Up From The Roots

I had been living on butter pickles and cough drops for close to a week. Don’t get me wrong, I like the taste of both but after a week even a plain ritz would have been a nice change of pace. I have no idea how I got stuck in our cellar; worse, why were there only cough drops and butter pickles in our root cellar? Who still has a root cellar? At least I never got cramps because of all the pickle juice. When life gives you lemons…ha ha. The hardest part wasn’t the pickles and cough drops it was the cold at night and the odor of my feces. I only had two bowel movements as not a lot “builds up” if you will, from butter pickles. I urinated in the empty pickle jars and recapped them so that stench was “jarred” if you will. I know I will…ha ha. IMHO that was pretty nifty on my part, pretty good problem solving. But the feces, I had nowhere to “put that” if you will. I know I won’t…ha ha. So smelling that and sleeping in the cold was not my favorite. There was an old flag I was able to drape around myself but it was still pretty cold. I tried to keep busy but there weren’t many “project” opportunities in a 8x5 root cellar filled with cough drops and butter pickles, and some rusted tools. I didn’t want to clean the tools with the flag because I slept with the flag. I read the labels for the pickles and the cough drops but what was the point of doing this more than once? 

As it turns out I wasn’t really stuck in the root cellar; due to my infrequent trips to the root cellar, I didn’t realize that that the door only opens in; it took my wife and kids getting home from their trip to hear me screaming to come down and open the door for me. It sure was good see them and get out of that stinky cellar. My wife was pretty upset about all the pickles being gone. I told her I didn’t get any cramps but she didn’t get it. Women, can’t live with em…ha ha.