Tuesday, March 22, 2011

A Personal Ass. Istant.




So, around my neighborhood an enterprising soul has placed signs advertising her services as a Personal Assistant. I am considering what exactly a personal assistant does. To assist.

I think it might be nice to have someone mop my floors and scrub my grout and remove soap scum from my shower tiles. But wait. Isn't such an assistant called a Housekeeper?

I think it might be nice to have someone who comes to my house three days a week to supervise my exercise schedule and to recommend specific ways to make my arms look like Kelly Ripa's. But wait. Isn't such an assistant called a Trainer?

I think it might be nice to have someone who mows the lawn and trims the shrubs and blows away the debris with an outrageously loud leaf blower. But wait. Isn't such an assistant called a Husband?

Note: And I do have one, yes.

I find my answer at the craft store of all places.

My hands are getting full of my purchases. I am juggling styrofoam Easter egg decorating kits and adorable daisy hand towels and two boxes of glittery eggs and two bags of malted milk eggs and two large wreaths for the front door when I see the chilled soda cooler and I'm thinking Oooh, a Diet Coke sounds delicious. But the bottle happens to be on the bottom rack, of course, so I squat down while holding the kits and the towels and the eggs and the candy and the wreaths and I jimmie the cooler open with my elbow which is pointier than I anticipate, luckily, and secure a soda with two fingers of my right hand.

And then I see the usefulness of a Personal Assistant.

Note: Or to be more precise, perhaps it is the older gentleman behind me who sees the usefulness of a my Personal Assistant.

Picture this, or better yet don't: My hands are full of kits and towels and eggs and candy and wreaths and soda, yes. My hands are full, and I am squatting and then standing and I feel a nice, refreshing breeze. In back, yes.

Now I understand.

I need a Personal Assistant to follow me around and pull up my doggone pants.

Any takers?

Heck, yes!



- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad Paddy, or Paddington, if you prefer the more formal approach.

3 comments:

Brookel said...

um,... or you could use a cart?

or maybe a basket? :)

btw my word verification was xpothot, when they're good i've got to tell you.

Penny said...

Love your explanations and humor. Needed it tonight. Been a really long day! But most of them are. Thanks.

Matthew Gamblin said...

Ew.

Fredette about it. :)