“Patience, grasshopper.”

By Tiber

As the sun is guaranteed to rise in the east, our maid, Taffy, has had another “unfortunate event,” as Mrs. Brunty, the housekeeper, calls them.

We all know, of course, that Taffy is just one of those people out of sync with the Universe.

Remember when she got her foot stuck in her mouth?

Remember when that fish fell out of the sky and shattered her windshield? It’s true that a bird could have dropped the fish on Taffy but I still maintain that God may have just thrown it at her.

She’s seems really nice to me but who knows how these things work. The reality is that all bad things happen to Taffy.

This time, she was attacked by a fighting grasshopper.


Of course, Taffy did most of the work for him. He just kept throwing himself at her face and her hair and she then threw herself into a tree trunk, a lawn chair and the ground, trying to swat him away.

The question remains, however, why would any normally peaceful little grasshopper come at her at all? Why do any of these weird-ass things happen to Taffy?

If I’d known about this particular “unfortunate event” in advance, I would have spoken to the grasshopper beforehand and told him to forget it, that he didn’t have to fight so far out of his weight class.

He’s probably glad now that I didn’t. He’ll be out there forever, wherever grasshoppers congregate, bragging over and over again, about the day when he took down a one hundred and ten pounder.


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