How to enable Spell Check for use here!

[Erin Kay]

Thanks for letting us know, Hardt. I haven't been able to use spellcheck and my spelling aint that hot either.

[hardt]

how comes ya neber sayd nuttin woman...ya gots ta hep us pour e-litter-it folks!

[mmmgood]

Thanky to both my good friends!  Ya know, it's kinda fun having two of the funnest, most helpful people out here nearly 24/7.    

[write_away]

Kate, thingee is too a word. Just like doo hickey, and thing-a-ma-bob. 

I use those words all the time. Just can't figger out why people don't understand me sometimes.

[jfields]

I am absolutely certain that "doohickey" is one word. Like "whatzit."

You know "thingee" reminds me of my dad. Dad used to have trouble...um...communicating sometimes. So if he was going off to work on the car, all us kids would hide like roaches in the sunlight. I often scuttled too slowly and would be dragged outside to "help." This normally involved me standing beside an open toolbox full of mysterious items I knew diddley-poop about. Then dad would crawl under the car and I would wait anxiously. Finally, his hand would extend out from under the car and he would say, "Hand me that mechiner-shazamazooa-wrench."

And I would stare into the box, hoping the object mentioned would be helpfully stamped with what it is. "Um, which thing is that?" I would stammer.

"The mechiner-shazamazooa-wrench," he would say, speaking louder because shouting is key to good communication...so is flopping the extended hand.

"What does it look like?" I would say.

"It looks like a mechiner-shazamazooa-wrench," he would bellow back, hand now waving wildly.

I would then reach into the mystery box and grab some kind of wrench. I generally knew the difference between...say...a wrench and a hammer or screwdriver. I would thrust the wrench into the rapidly moving hand and it would vanish under the car, only to be thrust back out with the same wrench. If a hand can look disgusted, this one would.

"This is a mechiner-smamazooa-wrench," the voice would shriek. "It doesn't look anything like a mechiner-shazamazooa-wrench! Give me the mechiner-shazamazooa-wrench."

I would then continue handing the wrong wrench until I accidentally got the right one. Usually by that time, it took a good 60 seconds to catch the flailing hand to thrust the wrench into it and my ears were ringing. I would then sigh with relief as the hand did not reappear with the wrench in it.

But...usually before my shredded nerves could really mend...the hand would reappear. "Hand me the soccer-wretch!"

[write_away]

Jan, OMG, I had tears I was laughing so much. That is EXACTLY what my mom would say to me when she was trying to be "independant" and fix stuff herself.