There’s a hole in my bucket

Many years ago, I watched Sesame Street daily.  I loved Sesame Street.  I remember Sesame Street skits still today.

One that forever stuck in my mind was a skit of two old “people”, Dear Henry and Dear Liza.

Dear Henry was a dipstick.  He had a bucket, his bucket had a hole in it.  Dear Henry consulted with Dear Liza as to what to do about said hole in said bucket.

By way of song.

There’s a hole in my bucket, Dear Liza, Dear Liza.  There’s a hole in my bucket, Dear Liza, a hole.

To which Dear Liza responded-

Well fix it Dear Henry, Dear Henry.  Fix it Dear Henry, fix it.

Which prompted Dear Henry to ask-

With what shall I fix it, Dear Liza, Dear Liza?  With what shall I fix it, Dear Liza, with what?

The entire blessed thing went on this way, through Henry having to be told with what to fix it (a plug), what to make the plug out of (a stick), how to cut the stick (with an axe), what to do with the dull axe (sharpen it), how to sharpen the axe (with the stone), what to do about the dry stone (wet it), how to get the water to the stone (the bucket), and it finally ending with “There’s a hole in my bucket, Dear Liza, Dear Liza.  There’s a hole in my bucket, Dear Liza, a hole.“.  Again.

If a Muppet could look like she was fixing to have an aneurysm, Dear Liza was that Muppet.

You’re probably wondering just where in the Hell Ol’ Snigs is going with this.

Relax.  I’m getting there.

Went to bed last night somewhere around midnight.  Pooped would be an understatement as to my physical (and mental) condition.

Around 3:00 a.m. I was awakened by the sound of the phone “chirping”.  It “chirps” when there is lightning in the area close enough to run in on it.  James was still up, as he was planning to sleep all day today in preparation of work tonight.   So I reached over, flicked the phone line out of the jack on the computer, dropped it in a glass jar and went back to sleep.  Sorta figured he’d take care of things.

This is a good time to mention that Scout gets “staked” out at night, to keep him from going off, getting in trouble.  Problem is- a) he’s on a metal chain, b) which is connected to a metal post driven in the ground, c) which is in very close proximity to a very tall television antenna.

Lightning likes tall metal things and tends to jump to shorter metal things close to the taller metal thing.

You get the point.

Fried dog should lightning hit the antenna and he be chained up.

So…at the first sound of thunder, we go get the spoiled brat and bring him in the house.  I don’t think he’s too fond of the noise anyway.

So anyway, where was I?  Oh yes, James was awake and heard the thunder.  He comes and WAKES ME UP at 3:00 a.m. to see if I think the dog should come inside.

Is it thundering? (Note, I did not call him Einstein!)


Well, bring the fracking dog in.

So he does.

Around 4:00, the thunder stopped.

HE FRACKING WOKE ME UP AGAIN to see if I thought he should take the dog back outside.

Is the cloud gone?

Yeah, far as I can tell.

Take him back out.

(He’s whining to go out at this point)

But it might start back.

So?  We’ll get him in if it does.

Longgggg whine.


Needless to say, at 5:00 a.m. when he was lying on his back, snoring his ass off, I was NOT gentle in my delivery of the Roll-Over-Now-The-Black-Hawk-Is-In-Reach nudge.  I’m surprised he didn’t crack his head on the night stand.

Fast forward (and I do mean fast considering how good I was sleeping) to 6:30.  He set the clock at that time where he could do the usual oil checking, tire checking, etc… crap- that could have been done Sunday night.  Alarm is blaring.  He’s snoring.


The damned clock is going off.  What time is it?


Okay, see you in 15 minutes.

I drift off to sleep again.

Damn all that is and isn’t Holy.  At 6:35 he’s back to tell me it will be time to get up in 10 minutes.

I figure I looked a lot like Dear Liza about to have a Muppet-head-o-stuffing aneurysm.

He works the next 2 nights.  I have school all day tomorrow, so I won’t be here to harrass him.

I think I’m going to replace some roofing Wednesday though.  Probably would be a good time to clean out from under the bed and vacuum there too.  Maybe be sure to wake him every 30 minutes and tell him how much longer he can sleep.

Or maybe just sing, There’s a hole in your head, Dear Henry, Dear Henry.  There’s a hole in your head, Dear Henry, a hole.


5 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Old NFO
    Jul 27, 2009 @ 23:08:02

    Oh THANK you… now that damn song is running around in MY head… sigh… 🙂

  2. snigsspot
    Jul 27, 2009 @ 23:14:48

    Bless your heart! Now you know I did not mean for that to happen. Although now that it has, I cannot quit giggling.

    Whistles in NFO’s general directions- there’s a hole in your bucket…

  3. Rick
    Jul 27, 2009 @ 23:18:02

    I got the dopey song in my head also. Thanks a million.

  4. snigsspot
    Jul 27, 2009 @ 23:37:18

    Just wait til you guys read what song I have picked out for tomorrow night…

  5. Linda
    Jul 28, 2009 @ 07:13:55

    Thanks for starting my day with a laugh. I don’t remember that song, or the episode from Sesame Street, and I can’t figure out why? I know we used to watch every day, but maybe I’m getting so old, I don’t remember what I was going to………?

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