SOME OF MY OWN MR. BEAN MOMENTS

Today I bought some groceries, and on my way out of the store I decided to grab a couple of anti-bacterial wipes, and so I did, and then I started pushing (what I thought was my basket cart of groceries).

I was now outside, still pushing the basket cart, and I looked down and saw an empty basket.

I rushed back inside the store, pushing the empty basket, and there was the one that I had left.

DUH.

*

One day while teaching an English class, I needed to go to the office.

When I returned to the classroom I looked for my chalk.

I asked my students if they had seen my chalk.

They said, “You still have it in your hand!”

*

I returned home with some groceries.

I put away the groceries.

Instead of the freezer I had put a steak in the pantry (food closet).

*

NOTE: I don't even know if I should count this as a Mr. Bean moment. It's not funny.

When I was fourteen I went on my first and only hunting trip.

I had killed a deer.

I wrote a poem about this experience.

The poem expresses my sorrow about what I had done.

The Mr. Bean moment came after I had yelled down to my grandpa that I had shot a deer. He was down at our campsite.

He yelled back:

“Cut his throat!”

“What?” I said.

“Cut his throat! Cut his throat!”

So I began cutting the head off of the deer.

It took awhile.

Grandpa kept yelling to cut the throat.

I kept cutting.

And finally, the head came off.

I put it in my backpack, and carried it back to camp.

I proudly opened the backpack and pulled the head out.

Grandpa:

“What the hell did you do?”

Me:

“I did what you said. Cut its head off.”

Grandpa:

“I said to cut his throat!”

Me:

“Oh.”

IT'S ABOUT RENEWABLE RESOURCES