Sunday, July 12, 2009

Comment: Yes, it's a Plinky Prompt.

I'm tired and old and out of ideas, so I went and looked up a Plinky Prompt, those chatty, party-hilarity-inducing questions that someone has to think of every day and puts out for those of us too burnt out to think up our own. (Question: Who do the Plinky Prompt people go to for their ideas? Enquiring minds want to know.)

I didn't like today's question, so I went back a few days, and here it is:
"Which could you spend a whole week in: a treehouse, a tent, or an underground bunker?"

Alert readers can refer back as recently as yesterday's post to know that I'd pretty much rather have my eyes poked out than hang out in anything underground. So bunker it is NOT.

Tents? I have tent issues. I went camping once with my husband and his camping (but sadly, not campy) buddies. We went to the Sequoia National Forest or somesuch large-treed area where it proceeded to rain. And rain. And rain. And rain.

It didn't stop raining the whole weekend. For all I know it's STILL raining there, and this was 8 years ago. What did we do? We sat in our tents, under tarps, and talked optimistically of hikes and dry socks. It was not fun. So a tent is O-U-T.

That leaves a treehouse. I don't have a particular problem with spending time in a treehouse, as long as it's not all cobwebby and shit. Speaking of which, where do you go potty in a tree house? There's no plumbing in a tree house. Do you just hang your ass out the window and let it all out? Men would so have the home court advantage in a treehouse. I mean, I wouldn't want to pee on a squirrel or something. That would probably make Smokey the Bear cry. And Ranger Rick would kick my ass.

I guess there'd be some sort of chamber pot, but then someone (not me, not me) would have to clean it out. Oh who am I kidding, I'm the go-to-gal for clean ups on aisle 5 in the urine department. I've cleaned up more feces and urine than I care to disclose. (and I don't even have a DOG!)

So a treehouse, avec chamber pot, and hopefully some music, candles, and a cooler for the sandwiches I'd make ahead of time (I'm assuming there's no electricity up there. Because if there is, I'm bringing up lights, my computer, maybe an electric blanket.)(Because you know that a treehouse is drafty.)

My treehouse will have one of those cool pulley rope dealies that you can send up and down by pulling on it. That way, when my Entertainment Weekly is thoroughly read, I can send down for another one, or possibly some more snacks. I think I'll get very hungry in my treehouse. I'll need lots of refreshments. Possibly pots of honey.

And I might get lonely in my treehouse, so better have my cellphone. And a few changes of clothes. I can only imagine how bad I'm going to smell after a week in a treehouse. Do you think I should even bother changing my clothes? I reckon the owls would not enjoy my musky scent, but you never know: they're kind of freaky.

The only other thing I'd need would be a really snuggly blanket and a futon mattress. I'm not doing sleeping bags; I hate the feeling of being mummified in a zipped up bag. (I told you, I'm not a camper.)

I'd bring some pillows, maybe a throw, just to dress the place up a little.

Okay, so we're set here. Good. I'm ready for my week in the treehouse.

Does anyone want to come with me?

1 comment:

  1. MAN: Doctor, last night I dreamt I was teepee!
    PSYCHIATRIST: Mm-Hmm.
    M: The night before I dreamt I was a wigwam!
    P: (Heavy German accent) Ach! I zee your problem: You're two tents!

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