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Labor Day thoughts

Published September 04. 2010 09:00AM

It's Labor Day weekend, the final holiday of the summer season. And wasn't it just last weekend that we were observing Memorial Day? Time's moving much too fast.

In honor of Labor Day, today's column is geared toward the working man - the do-it-yourselfer who boldly tackles chores around the house.

It's aimed at readers in their 20s to their 90s and how they would handle the following scenario.

It's funny, and thank you to the loyal reader who wanted it shared with other loyal readers.

Men's ages as determined by trips to the local hardware store, Home Depot or Lowe's.

Here's how it plays out.

You are in the middle of some kind of project around the house - mowing the lawn, putting up a new fence, painting the living room, or whatever. You are hot, sweaty, and covered in dirt or paint. You have your old work clothes on: Shorts with a hole in the crotch, old T-shirt with a stain from who knows what, and an old pair of tennis shoes.

Right in the middle of this great home-improvement project you realize you need to run to the hardware store to get something to complete the job. Depending on your age you might do the following:

In your 20s:

Stop what you are doing. Shave, take a shower, blow dry your hair, brush your teeth, floss, and put on clean clothes. Check yourself in the mirror and flex. Add a dab of your favorite cologne because you never know, you just might meet some hot chick while standing in the checkout lane. And you went to school with the pretty girl running the register.

In your 30s:

Stop what you are doing, put on clean shorts and shirt. Change shoes. You married the hot chick so no need for much else. Wash your hands and comb your hair. Check yourself in the mirror. Still got it. Add a shot of your favorite cologne to cover the smell. The cute girl running the register is the kid sister to someone you went to school with.

In your 40s:

Stop what you are doing. Put on a sweat shirt that is long enough to cover the hole in the crotch of your shorts. Put on different shoes and a hat. Wash your hands. Your bottle of Brut Cologne is almost empty so you don't want to waste any of it on a trip to Home Depot. Check yourself in the mirror and do more sucking in than flexing. The spicy young thing running the register is your daughter's age and you feel weird thinking she is pretty.

In your 50s:

Stop what you are doing. Put a hat on; wipe the dirt off your hands onto your shirt. Change shoes because you don't want to get dog doo-doo in your new sports car. Check yourself in the mirror and you swear not to wear that shirt anymore because it makes you look fat. The cutie running the register smiles when she sees you coming and you think you still have it. Then you remember the hat you have on is from Buddy's Bait & Beer Bar and it says, "I Got Worms."

In your 60s:

Stop what you are doing. No need for a hat anymore. Hose the dog doo-doo off your shoes. The mirror was shattered when you were in your 50s. The girl running the register may be cute, but you don't have your glasses on so you aren't sure.

In your 70s:

Stop what you are doing. Wait to go to the hardware store until the drugstore has your prescriptions ready, too. Don't even notice the dog doo-doo on your shoes. Don't care anyway. The young thing at the register smiles at you because you remind her of her grandfather.

In your 80s:

Stop what you are doing. Start again. Then stop again. Now you remember you needed to go to the hardware store. Go to Wal-Mart instead and wander around trying to think what it is you are looking for. You went to school with the lady who greeted you at the front door.

In your 90s and beyond:

What's a home deep hoe? Something for my garden? Where am I? Who am I? Why am I reading this?

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