"...Hey, Sissy! Don't you think you better slow down." Cleo turned to me and said, "Sissy, has a real problem. That TV channel called and wanted to put her on the air. What's it called, Boarders, or Hoarders, something liked that. We told them 'bout all the stuff she has, but they said we'd be better off calling Goodwill or the Salvation Army. They have a lot of extra manpower this time of year due to the holidays and all. She's got a bad problem about keeping and holding onto stuff. Like that man of hers, beating up on her like that. You gonna come to the singin?"
"I'm kind of tired. This yard sale stuff has worn me out," I replied. I was beginning to get concerned about how I was going to wiggle out of going to this singin'. These folks were a few cards shy of playing with a full deck and their elevators didn't quite make it to the top floor if you know what I mean. Bless their hearts, I know they was just being friendly, but all I wanted to do was go sit in my recliner.
A few moments passed and they were all gathered around Sissy when they called me over. "What's the total?" Cleo asked.
I had no idea what I had told Sissy so I just said ten bucks. She had a mountain of junk and it was stuff that I didn't have to look at any more. It took all three of them four trips to carry it to the car.
"Now, the singin' starts at 7 PM, but I want you to come a little early; there's a man I want you to meet," said Cleo. "I hear he's loose and likes to swing from the bedposts."
"CLEO! Shut up and get in the car. Leave that lady alone," shouted Mister. With that, Cleo and Sissy nodded at me and got in the car. Mister was lingering behind and started fishing for something in his overalls. "You ain't got a pencil, do you? I wanted to write that fella's number down for ya, in case you want to do some swinging from the bed posts, he he. I'll be seeing ya. When you gonna have another yard sale?"