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Evil Weirdo

April 5, 2009

As many of you know I have a slight quirk about me. I sometimes attribute human emotions to inanimate objects.  I imagine that these items have feelings, and this makes it difficult sometimes to toss something in the trash, or move past an object that has fallen off the shelf in a store. You see, it doesn’t want to be on the floor. If it were me, I would want to be back on the shelf with my buddies. And so I have to pick it up, put it back, and then I can move on. It’s a form of OCD. I’m sure it must be. It doesn’t control me, but it’s a part of me, and often it can make me do things that would cause a casual observer to think I am completely nuts.

In order to understand what I’m about to show you,  you first have to READ THIS POST by my dear friend Violet. More importantly, read the first few comments, and the exchange between Violet and me.

My intent was to demonstrate my impairment in a comical way, and to possibly have Violet play along, or perhaps appease my anxiety in some way. But no, not the Evil Weirdo Violet. She chose to torture me. She saw a weakness and went in for the kill, exploiting the situation and attempting to give me nightmares about the plight the poor Mr. Rope.  What had started as a joke, she made into a tragedy for me.

It could have ended there. But no, this wasn’t enough for the Evil Weirdo. She concocted an even more devious plan, rubbing her hands together and laughing maniacally. (I’m not actually sure if her stubby arms allow for her hands touch each other)

On Friday night, I came home from work to find a small box had come in the mail. I was puzzled, as I had ordered anything. The return address meant nothing to me, just a street address and a postal code, no name and no city. Odd.

I opened the box slowly. Inside, on top, a three page letter with the note “read me first”  I began reading and started to think it was some sort of scam, one of those Nigerian prince type of things. But it wasn’t.

Here is the entire letter:


Reaching deeper into the box, I pulled out poor Mr. Rope. Weary, still damp, and stiff from his long dark journey crammed into the tiny box.  Before heading out to dinner with Kelly, I stretched him out on the floor and  I promised him I would do right by him.

The next day, a bright sunny Saturday afternoon, I took Mr. Rope into my backyard and asked him if he would like to live with us. He was thrilled. I tied his three dismembered pieces together and with a long extendable pole, looped him over a high branch in our Maple tree. The sun warmed his yellow strands, and the wind helped him dance around and turn in each and every direction, taking in his new surroundings. From there he will watch over us all summer. He can also see into most of the neighbours yards too, and even peek into some of their windows.  He is looking forward to his new life. Although he will miss the boys, Coffee, and even Violet, he has plenty of new things to see here. And most of all, he knows he is wanted.


Oh and Violet? Sleep with one eye open dear.

10 Comments leave one →
  1. April 5, 2009 7:16 pm

    I’m clapping my hands together over here, Sylvain, with utter glee. 🙂

  2. April 5, 2009 8:00 pm

    Two thumbs up!

  3. April 5, 2009 11:07 pm

    Well, besides thinking you are now totally weird I must suggest that you keep said letter and blog posts in written hard copy form and put them in a safe place for the day some other occupants take over ownership of said house and yard so they will know and understand the history (significant) and necessary care of said Mr. Rope, should he outlive you and other house occupants presently in place there. Perhaps Violet will agree to hold Power of Attorney for Mr. Rope.
    I do not think this is OCD.
    It is just plain weirdness;
    but in the case of picking things up off the floor in the grocery store and placing them on the shelf it’s just politeness on your part, perhaps from a history in the boy scouts? When I do this I am waiting for bells and whistles to go off and for someone to come and offer me a prize for my goodheartedness. I was in the girl scouts for a short time.

  4. Andrew permalink
    April 6, 2009 5:23 am

    The stubby arms comment almost made me spray oatmeal. Bravo!

    Will Mr. Rope be traveling with you at all? Do you have luggage racks on your van? 😉

  5. Carm permalink
    April 6, 2009 7:00 am

    Oh…. I love it! well done Violet..! I will smile every time I visit and promise to look up at Mr. Rope and say hello. In fact I will probably chuckle every time I see yellow rope from now on……. I think you might both be weird… but stay that way.. You bring smiles….

  6. April 6, 2009 9:45 am

    See, if we’re being completely honest, I really DO share this quirk with Sylvain. I give personalities (and names) to inanimate objects all the time. So while I was totally ready to toss Mr. Rope out (having worked hard to NOT personify him) SYLVAIN MADE ME DO THIS! 🙂

    Crazy people should not mess with other crazy people.

    But this whole thing gave me SO much joy all week long as I prepared the letter and packaged the rope and mailed him. 🙂

  7. April 7, 2009 9:55 pm

    Dang, Syl, I had never heard of a peeping Tom before who masqueraded as a rope!

  8. darklightwrites permalink
    April 9, 2009 7:42 pm

    Nicely done crazy people! Have you ever noticed how we all somehow want to attribute our quirks to something at least marginally acceptable? Far better to have OCD than to be … well, just weird. But what do I know, I think that toilet paper and packing tape are in leagues with each other.


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