A threat well-known and often ushered at our house. Back when the kiddos were teenagers and we were ALL living under my mother's roof (I think my grandmother was residing with us at the time as well - imagine the festive atmosphere - 2 cats; 4 kids; 3 dogs; a grandmother; and a mother...) we were having a lovely Southern afternoon as we were wont to do. For whatever reason, Belle and I got into it. This usually happened on days that ended in "Y" and on hours that ended in zero. She was sitting on the couch about to feast on a nice hot bowl of Chicken & Stars soup. Well WHATever it was we were going on about, I just wouldn't let it go. I know, shocking!!! I popped off one last time, and Belle had enough. The bitch threw her spoon at my head. Fortunately, Belle has about as much aim as she has sense, so she missed. Me, at least. Layne from coming through the door that lead out to the garage. The spoon zinged past my head. Bounced off the door. And beaned Layne right in the chest.
Now Layne is - how do I put this? - a little.... High Strung. Getting thwucked in the chest by a flying spoon is a recipe for diaster. And much hilarity. I was already in tears laughing and trying not to pee myself.
And then ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE.
Laynee proceeded to pick up the offending spoon at hurl it back at Belle with the force of a Taco Bell turd shot from an angry butthole. And hit her target. Bullseye! The spoon hit the bowl full of Belle's soup and the bowl exploded - right in half! Spoon goes FLYING over Belle's head and chickeny stars are EVERYWHERE! Mostly in Belle's lap and all over the couch and - Gawd Forbid! - on her shoes. She freaks the fart out wailing about "My Shoes! My Shoes!" and hopping about trying to get hot stars off her hoo-hoo. The dogs are going apeshit trying to munch up the mess. I am about to have a freakin' heart attack from laughing so hard. Did I mention James David had a little friend over? First time visiting our house (and I think his last) and he is now plastered back up against the fireplace in terror.
And then came Mimi. We only thought all hell had broken loose before. Mimi is none too amused with us or the new design that is now dripping off her couch. New couch. Belle is still hopping about and wailing "My Shoes! My Shoes!" And Mimi HAD it!
"I dont' give a [BLEEP] about your shoes!
Look at my [BLEEPING] couch!!!!"
Chaos ensued. I ran (and laughed). Mimi cussed. Belle screamed some more about her shoes. That neighbor kid never left the fireplace. Mimi threatened to kill us all with said spoon. It was pure and total pandemonium. It was hysterical. I think the dogs cleaned up most of the mess but we certainly got it tidied up with a quickness.
But that is why forever more, always, and to this day Belle is (affectionately) known as StarrPussay! And if ever you piss any of us off and are warranted the warning "Don't make me throw my spoon at you!"
Stop what you are doing.
Back away slowly.
And run for your freakin' life!!!