PLEEEZ, I’D RATHER DO IT MYSELF! The story is told of a scout master who waited impatiently while the boy scout helped an old woman cross the street.
Scout Master: “Why were you gone so long?”
Scout: “Because she didn’t want to go.”
I know how the old woman felt!

I have pretty near lost some very good male friends because of my determined independence in getting into and out of the van or bus. I readily recall when I decided I could do it myself—if the door is secure and, especially if I have a support to pull up on. I wondered about the wisdom of that decision on the day I fell out of the van door and knocked my kind friend down on the ground and landed on top of him! One time my determined independence resulted in my faltering steps across the lot and a fall that landed me in the bushes. But I still say, Pleeez, I’d rather do it myself!


Now I am perfectly capable of pushing the UP button for the elevator, watching for the UP light, pushing the button that is marked #4 for the floor which is above me. I am NOT prepared to hear a Female Voice say, “Going up,” Well, indeed! I came to that conclusion all by myself. I don’t need some digital intruder to tell me that. And when we get to floor four and the light goes off, the bell dings, the door opens, I see a numeral 4 on the wall, my mind just jumps to the conclusion that I am on the fourth floor without the Voice telling me. I’m still capable of mental gymnastics, Pleeez, you can trust me on that!


Now for the ultimate putdown! In the “ladies’ room” all by myself, I have had plenty of practice, perhaps a quarter million times or so, (even deducting years going to the outhouse) to turn around and flush that toilet.    With a mighty gush and noise, the “robot” flushes it.   Pleeez, quit making me feel like I have mistakenly stooped down at the edge of Old Faithful! Pleeez!

About oneta hayes

ABOUT ME Hello. To various folks I am Neat’nee, Mom, Grandma Neta, Gramma, Aunt Neta, Aunt Noni, Aunt Neno, and Aunt Neto (lots of varieties from little nieces and nephews). To some I’m more like “Didn’t you used to be my teacher?” or “Don’t I know you from someplace?” To you, perhaps, I am a Fellow Blogger. Not “fellow” like a male or a guy, but “fellow” like a companion or an adventurer. I would choose to be Grandma Blogger, and have you pull up a chair, my website before you, while I tell you of some days of yore. I have experienced life much differently than most of you. It was and is a good life. I hope to share nuggets of appreciation for those who have gone before me and those who come after me. By necessity you are among those who come after me and I will tell you of those who came before. Once upon a time in a little house on a prairie - oops, change that lest I commit plagiarism - and change that “house on the prairie” to “dugout on the prairie.” So my story begins...
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18 Responses to I’D RATHER DO IT MYSELF

  1. Salvageable says:

    I appreciate the humor in your post. Please remember, though, that some people cannot see floor number when the elevator door opens. The voice is for them. J.

  2. calmkate says:

    lol I also struggle with the AI dictatorship taking over our lives!

  3. Faye says:

    I love your humour. The truth speaks I think to us all. I have always tried to graciously accept help and be thankful for it but the new warning on my fridge door annoys me. If you are standing putting away carefully the things you have bought, a loud piercing screech to let you know the door is still open could be timed more generously to give you at least the chance to straighten up and gently close it.(instead of being so startled that you slam it shut and rattle all the shelves.

    • oneta hayes says:

      That would be annoying for sure! Haven’t seen one of those yet. I wonder if the screech could beat Sammy. He’s my nagger for closing doors. That comes with age, doesn’t it? Don’t tell him I said that!

  4. Oh my goodness! Miss Independant! But I have to agree on the toilet bowl flusher. While I know it’s cleaner, if you shift a slight bit, it’ll flush on you. My daughter found out when she did just that. lol

  5. so the other night we went to a new restraunt. At the end of our meal and with an hour drive back home, I excused myself from the table and made my way to the ladies room.
    Or so I thought.
    I got to where the bathrooms were located.
    The first door I came to had the images of both a boy and a girl.
    “Ok,” I thought, this must be a unisex bathroom but there were two other doors.
    I looked at those doors…both of those doors also had the unisex symbols.
    Just as I was reaching for the handle to one of the doors, out comes a male waiter. “Is this the right bathroom?” I asked, feeling somewhat foolish, “yes” he smiled while holding open the door.
    Inside, there was one toilet and one sink with a note stating that all employees must wash their hands.
    I’ve traveled enough throughout Europe, so I’m used to unisex bathrooms…but here at home, in a restaurant, I usually prefer two bathrooms—one for guys that has a urinal and toilet and one for girls with just a toilet…???
    Will guys remember to lift and lower seats…??
    Will I ever feel comfortable when younger children exert their independence by heading off to the loo alone…?
    Too many questions when simply wanting to use the bathroom….

    • oneta hayes says:

      That would be irritating, for sure. In the past I would have just chosen to wait, but as more age comes on, I find how near impossible that is sometimes. Sometimes it is nice to have something suitable for the majority!

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