Monday, September 19, 2011

Tale of the Troll

Once upon a time we threw a big, hunkin' party. We had all sorts of fun at this party (and several other parties like it), including the always wild and crazy white elephant gift exchange game. One of our party-til-you-drop attendees received the sweetest little gift you would ever hope to see: a troll doll. Say it all together now, "Awwwwwwwww, soooooooo cute!" (with the "soooooooo" spoken with a bit of a lisp and the "cute" pronounced "keeeeeyuuuu-tah" {it's a Utah thing, trust me}). Maybe the troll isn't all that cute. Whatever. Anywho. Apparently Uncle Jim, the lucky recipient of the cute/ugly troll doll, decided he would ditch that little thing in our basement refrigerator and walk away without so much as a child support check or a proper, "See ya later alligator." Hmmppphh.

When we discovered that little fuzz top in the fridge, we decided to adopt him and make him our basement refrigerator mascot. You can only imagine the sideways looks we would get from guests of our kids who would help themselves to our basement fridge and all that was in it as they saw the troll starring back at them whenever they reached for a cold one. (Soda. It was soda. You guys!)

Our little troll dude has lived with us in his basement refrigerator home for nigh on four years now without so much as a whimper or a complaint. That probably says more about what a 40 degree environment will do for one's ability to move one's mouth than anything else. Ooh. That reminds me, would someone PLEASE speak to Bishop Flinders about the icebox he likes to refer to as our chapel??? I mean, seriously. Are they conducting cryogenics research tests in our church building these days? I'm telling you what, my toes don't thaw out until I've been home from Sunday services for approximately two hours. Never mind that I continue to wear open-toed shoes in the colder months; that shouldn't make one whit of difference, and you better not use that argument against me you, you, you wearer o' the sensible and thick wing-tip shoes! And, you wear socks too?! Sheesh.

Meanwhile, back at the fridge . . .

I decided it was high time to let our little basement refrigerator mascot see the world! Experience life on the outside! Explore bigger and better freezers! As a result, ol' fuzz head has become the fifth member of an awesome group I recently formed which we call F.R.I.D.A.Y.* Never heard of it? The formation of F.R.I.D.A.Y. is really just a lame excuse for me to drive on down to Cougartown {go BYU! rah! rah! rah! siss! boom! bah!}, snag my mom, Sean, and Christian, drag them hither and yon, and basically wreack havoc at a local restaurant every Friday afternoon. POW! It's a winner, right?! Yep, indeed. Now that our little troll dude has joined the band as its fifth member, I decided that he needs the dignity of a real name, so I christened him, appropriately enough, Pete Best. Whoa! Ha! (Sorry, but sometimes I crack myself up.) Unfortunately, poor Pete missed last week's hoohah (and he's now sorry he did), but he did make the jaunt this time. And, jeepers, he had fuh-uhn! (Two syllables there on fuh-uhn. It's a Utah thing, trust me.)

Now! Your mission, if you choose to accept it (and, in so doing you consent to getting sucked into another one of my hare-brained ideas, I hope you know), is to find Pete Best in the weekly picture I'll be posting on my sidebar. Over there ----------------------------------------> Somewhere. Over there. Just look. Keep looking. It's gotta be there somewhere. Find it? Scroll down, down, down . . . uhhhhhhh, keeeeeep looking. Ah. Great! Now, search the photograph high and low for that little troll. See him? He's hidden pretty well, and the photograph is kind of small, so you might get frustrated and become tempted to punch out your computer screen. Please don't. You'll regret it. I'll try to have Pete be a little bit more in-your-face next week, because there's nothing worse than not being able to find a troll. Believe you me. Now, did you find him? Yay for you! I'd love it if you'd let me know when and if you spy our drummer Pete.

Synchronize your watches to check back to see where the fab four (and don't forget about Pete!) hang out next week. And, for the record, NO, I do not appreciate the comparisons between my hair and the troll doll's; you KNOW that my hair and humidity have issues. So just stop.

It wasn't me-ing*

*Explanation soon to be coming down the pike. Keep a watch out for it; it's a lulu.


Beth said...

I'm guessing that Pete Best is as welcome as a tall drink of water on a hot day.

Lisa said...

Uncle Jim sounds like my kind of guy. Wish I could find that green vase ( or whatever it was) and white ceramic elf. Wait....maybe you have it adorning your favorite coffee table?

Deon said...

Beth! Very, very clever (and quite accurate)!

Kat, thanks for emailing me about Pete's whereabouts. You've got a good eye!

Lisa, I do wish I could find that hideous green vase/candy dish! But, if memory serves, it wasn't a white ceramic elf but a white ceramic basket accompanied by a white ceramic vase with a sprig of fake pine jammed in it, right? Yes? I believe so. Yup, I think so. Hmmmm . . .

Shane, Liz and all the Crew said...

you are so funny!