Back-end of last week I became the proud recipient of a plastic bag. Pushed through the letter box I found a plastic bag with something inside.
Being the inquisitive little devil I am, I opened the plastic bag and found inside another plastic bag. The plastic bag inside, unlike the outside plastic bag, was empty although the outside plastic bag was also now empty. Basically, what I had now was an empty, small, outside plastic bag and an empty, big, inside plastic bag. I thinked to myself, ‘I wonder what this is all about then.’
Going back to the outside plastic bag I spotted writing wot wozz writ on it and from this I learnt the bags were from Help the Aged. Now as you get older any little bit of help is welcome but I couldn’t immediately see the benefit of an empty plastic bag. Can’t afford glue.
Upon further reading of the outside plastic bag I noted that the inside, empty plastic bag should be left outside my front door on Monday evening. So I did that. Oh yes, that I did.
Tuesday morning, bright and early and with mounting excitement, I scampered down stairs and opened the front door to see what’d been left for me inside my helping old people lucky bag.
Sadly, my inside empty plastic bag was still just that – empty.
No help this aged there then.
What to do with an empty plastic bag? I briefly considered pulling it over my head after watching the news. Then, more sensibly, considered pulling it over ‘my little nest of vipers’ head. And before someone in the Big Blue Nowhere dispatches black helicopters, that’s a joke. At least, the first part is.
I wonder what the bag thing was all about then. Or are I missing something here? Maybe I should’ve read ALL the instructions on the outside plastic bag the inside plastic bag came in. Maybe, but I get bored right quick with instructions and, well, never mind, there’s snow to play in.
Quote; Doug Larson.
“The aging process has you firmly in it’s grasp if you never get the urge to throw a snowball.”
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