For today’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt from Linda G. Hill, we are given the word “lid.” Linda then instructs us to “use it in the literal sense, use it in the metaphorical sense, use it any way you’d like.”
Hank was sitting in his living room intently watching the first playoff game between the San Francisco Giants and the Los Angeles Dodgers on TV. It was the top of the sixth inning and the Giants were holding on to a slim two run lead. Margaret, who didn’t particularly like baseball and was totally bored watching the game, started jabbering away about something that her sister had told her about in an email. Margaret’s voice was very distracting to Hank and he was having trouble hearing the play-by-play announcer. “Shh,” he said, trying to hush her up, but she kept talking.
The Dodgers had two on with only one out and Hank couldn’t concentrate on the game, so he snapped at her. “For crissake, woman, put a lid on it, will you please?”
Margaret looked confused. She got up and walked into the kitchen, looked the stove, and saw that the lid was, indeed, on the large pot in which she was preparing a beef stew for tomorrow night’s extended family dinner. She then walked back into the living room and said to Hank, “No need to worry, dear, I just checked and the lid is already on the pot.”
As she said that, the Giants’ left fielder made an outstanding catch up against the wall, robbing the batter of what was almost a three run homer that would have put the Dodgers in the lead. “Jesus, Margaret, how fucking stupid are you,” he yelled. “You always take things so literally. I wasn’t talking about the stupid lid on the pot in the kitchen, I was speaking metaphorically, trying to get you to shut the fuck up while I’m watching the goddam ballgame. You just made me miss that unbelievable play in left field.”
Margaret was visibly shaken by her husband’s angry words and his vile language. Tears streaming down her cheeks, she ran back into the kitchen to try and gather herself. After a few moments calm had returned. She put on an oven mit and lifted the lid from the pot and walked into the living, positioned herself behind Hank’s Lazy Boy, and clocked him upside the head with the pot’s heavy lid.
Hank fell to the floor, his eyes rolling in their sockets. Then he lost consciousness. Margaret looked down at the now lifeless body of her husband and said aloud. “Yes, Hank, I am a very literal person. You told me to put a lid on it and you got exactly what you asked for.”