Margie Comes to Visit

by Mickey Floyd
Sheridan West

December was a good month for visitors. Our daughter and son-in-law from Arizona came out for a visit that was like a NASCAR pit stop. By the time they got their jackets off, it was time to go. But it was great to see them, if only for a short time. Retha and her sister Margie flew into KCI at about the same time, so it was an easy pick-up for me. Having five people in the house at one time was just great. Lots of Christmas sounds. Too much food and the kids leaving too soon. I guess that is pretty much like every one else's Christmas.

The good thing was that Margie was going to stick around and absorb some much-needed Missouri rest and relaxation. She was able to get away from her responsibilities in California for two weeks, and it was her pleasure to have her come here. She has been here several times in the past, but in the summer. Why would I have a relative come here in winter, you ask? This woman is evil. Her mind is like a 12-gauge double barrel shotgun and she keeps both barrels loaded with number four meanshot and aimed at me. Once in California, about 45 years ago, I was introducing her to police as "my wife's sister" when she looked at me with her wide-eyed impish face and said, "Wife's sister? You never told me you were married!" It's a good thing for both of us that I was not carrying a gun at the time. My sergeant was one of those people who just didn't understand a joke. Especially jokes about officers and teenage girls.

That's pretty much the type of relationship Margie and I have had for as long as I've known Retha, and I married Retha despite her. Margie has more nervous energy than a flea at a dog judging contest and twenty years ago, I would have thought that cute. Today, it just annoys me. There are some people that when confronted with a brick wall, will try to climb it to see the other side. Some people who will run to either end to see around it. Some who will even dig a hole to get under it. Margie is the sum of all these people. Myself, on the other hand, I choose to sit in my "Lazy Boy" recliner, drinking tea, while staring at the same brick wall and waiting for my X-ray vision to kick in.

We lost track of Margie once for almost two days (Yea!). Seems she had found my collection of old copies of the Sheridan Express and had locked herself in her bedroom to read. I thought about looking up Jesse and buying every old copy in his office, but I didn't. Instead, Retha and I sent Margie her own subscription in California.

If you enjoyed the Christmas season, thank a veteran.

The opinions expressed here are my own and do not necessarily reflect those of the Sheridan Express or its advertisers.