Here's Your Sign

Last night Travis and I attended our first Manheim Sportsmen Association meeting. Basically we were there to be officially inducted in and to get a small tour of and safety course in using the facilities both necessary before we can start going in our free time. For those who aren't up on these things basically it is a pre-approved area in the city where you can shoot both guns and bows into targets for fun or practice.

As we entered it was a whole realm of people mostly covered in camoflauge and cotton in the sweat suit variety. Earlier I had worried about not getting "gussied" up for the meeting only to get there and realize there was no dress code or grooming code for that matter. Travis and I amused ourselves through the minutes and business portion of the meeting by playing "Name Their Gender" which was considerably long lasting taking into account we could only see the back sides of people and there were a surprising amount of androgynous people.

But the highlight of the night came when we toured the facility and heard safety lectures. The membership chair led the group issuing axioms as clever as "A fool is borned every minute" and "An empty gun is as deadly as a loaded gun". But hey at the end of the night our family can go shooting on a moment's notice anytime we want and I laughed for a good hour.

Then today, Travis called me. He is a sucker for helping anyone out anytime. It is one of the main reasons I married him. He will stop anytime someone is on the side of the road, he will help anyone move, babysit any one's kids, and volunteer at most any opportunity including his current stint in PTO, our only consistent male attendee.

So it was no surprise to me when he called me today and said that a loose acquaintance of ours was back in college and struggling with some math homework. He could use some tutoring and Travis had volunteered me. The man appeared at our door and I was nervous about my rusty math skills being enough to get me through this. Travis assured me it was a basic level algebra. I assumed 100 or 101.

As the man got here he came in carrying a computer book and flipped it open to questions on learning to understand computer programing systems including the decimal, binary, octal, and hexadecimal systems. This was not algebra, but I fancy I can get through most things. So as the man streamed a continuous line of chatter about how smart he was I read the chapter, studied the examples, and taught myself how to do his homework so that I could teach him. And when I did he decided that he didn't like numbers, doing homework, and he didn't see the application in all this. Alas our tutoring session was pointless once he comprehended the amount of work involved.

But the highlight was when the man asked to use our restroom, went in, and continued to talk the whole time he relieved himself both of urine and flatulence. I about combusted as I consider this to be the most intimate of intimate acts. I don't even share potty time or talk with my husband, so I thought I would die. But once out of the bathroom, I ushered him out the door failing to offer continued support if needed. Because that would just not be productive.

Now I ask you, between my crazy visitor early this week, the Sportsmen Association Man, and my tutoree do I have a sign on me that is drawing the crazy people to me? If so I would like to remove it, seriously! ...but it makes for amusing fodder in telling others.