Elephants can tell if you’re friendly, or not so friendly. This late breaking news comes from research done in Africa with, duh, African elephants. Seems they know if tribesmen bopping through the outback are just bopping along or if the guys with loincloths and spears are really out on a pachyderm hunt. As in plotting to kill elephants. Elephants can actually tell if the voices they hear (and with ears like that, they should hear!) are male, female, or simply bloodthirsty and out to whack them.
Miss Crankypants wishes her own judgment was as fine-tuned. But no. Why is it that she always caves and lets the same pack of hoodlums mow her lawn, only to watch them abscond with the lawn ornaments (she is still bitter about the statue of a Chinese soldier who went missing)? Those hoodlums looked so innocent!
And it’s not much better when little girls go door to door.
Why, just last week a young girl with black eyeliner and very tight jeans rang the doorbell and then asked if Miss CP would like to buy a candy bar. How is a little girl selling candy a threat? Miss CP decides the kid is probably OK, a warning sign if ever there was one.
After Miss Cranky carefully explains that she’s on a diet and has sworn off candy, Goth-girl squints and her innocent features harden into pre-teen rage. “Lady. I gotta sell fifteen more bars, or I can’t go to Disney World with the rest of the Goths. If you don’t buy some, I’ll be forced to come back tonight and pull up all your Hostas.” A satisfied smirk settles on her pale lips.
“Not the Hostas!”
Goth-girl points to her array of candy bars. “Milk, Dark Chocolate or Hostas?”
Miss Cranky gulps. She’s spent years and thousands of dollars trying to get those stupid Hostas to bloom. First, legions of slugs and snails ate their way through the Hosta garden. Now this!
Goth-girl leans in, pointing her candy bar like a Smith & Wesson. “So what’ll it be, Lady?”
Miss CP trembles in her fuzzy slippers. If only she could tell the difference between a nice little girl going to Disney World and an evil candy bar-wielding thugette. Which by the way rhymes with SLUGETTE, and Miss CP has tons of those already, leaving their slimy trails all over the bite marks in the Hostas.
“OK, I give!” Miss CP reaches into her wallet and shells out enough cash to buy off this little thief. Goth-girl starts to cry, which creates a mess of her eyeliner. Now Miss Crankypants is totally mixed up. Is the girl friend or foe?
Miss Crankypants is going to have to ask an elephant. “Milk, Dark or Hostas?”
