Moss, is humor writer from Tennessee. She writes a
weekly human interest column about daily life and the funny
things that happen to everyone.
She has written for the Daily News of Kingsport, Griffin Journal,
Oakridge Now, Atlanta Woman Magazine, Aberdeen Examiner, Angleton
Advocate, and Smyrna AM, a supplement of the Murfreesboro Daily News
Journal. She has been
published by Voyageur Press, McGraw Hill, and the good folks
at Guidepost Books. Her articles have appeared in
numerous anthologies and other publications, both in print and online.
She is a
former board member and past Editor of the Columnists.com, website of the National Society of Newspaper
oldest and largest professional organization
for columnists. She is the Web Editor of
Humorists.com and a founder of the Southern Humorists writers'
organization. She is writer, editor, and webmaster of HumorColumnist.com.
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Online Since 1999
||Fantasy Football vs. the Hot
Fantasy Football vs. the Hot
a terrible thing when you cannot enjoy the luxury of a weekend at a park resort,
but this is the position in which I recently found myself. Normally, a weekend
away from home is an adventure to look forward to, but on this particular
weekend my honey's fantasy football league was celebrating the end of the season
with a party at the resort.
To say that I don't like football is to understate the matter. To state that I
HATE football is closer to the truth, but still not quite passionate enough to
express the true depth of my feelings. Of course, there was this hot tub at the
resort where I could soak away my displeasure and sooth my arthritic bones in
liquid warmth. So, yes, I would make the ultimate sacrifice and go to this
football party, I thought, as the hot tub called my name.
We arrived and I dutifully went to the testosterone saturated party room. There
was food -- so I ate. They passed out trophies -- so I took pictures. So far, so
good. Then it was time for the customary playing of poker and watching of
football on TV. The hot tub called my name even louder than before.
"Is it okay if I leave now?" I asked my honey.
I slipped away to change into my bathing suit. Unfortunately, the only bathing
suit I had was at least ten years old. I didn't bother to try it on before I
came as I had to wear it; I didn't have another one. I managed to squeeze into
the bathing suit, but my tummy wouldn't suck in enough to keep my flab from
showing. Oh, well, it's dark outside. Maybe no one will see. I must remember to
go shopping for a swimsuit with one of those little skirts, the kind that old
As I arrived at the pool, I realized that my hopes for privacy were lost.
Sitting on the side of the hot tub were three plump ladies in shorts with their
feet soaking in the tub. I nearly turned around and went back, but the hot tub
was screaming my name and my arthritis was throbbing.
I opened the glass door. "How's the water, ladies?" They didn't seem
any more thrilled at my interruption than I was at their presence. I wondered if
they were looking at my flab. However, they were all so overweight that none of
them could possibly wear a bathing suit, even if they sucked in and held their
breath forever. The hot water felt wonderful as I submerged in it up to my neck.
"This is great for my arthritis!"
I didn't know that I was in the hot tub with three witches until they lit up
their cigarettes. They had to be witches! Who in their right mind would smoke in
a hot tub except a witch? "Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble."
The water bubbled and the steam rose into the cool night air. The witches
cackled and continued their conversation, ignoring my presence. I tried to
relax, but the water seemed to become hotter and hotter and the smoke thicker.
"Fire burn, and caldron bubble."
Finally, I knew I had to get out or pass out. I decided to call it a night.
"You ladies have a nice evening," I said as I made my exit, stage
"How was the hot tub?" my honey asked me later.
"Oh, it was a bit crowed, so I didn't stay long." I didn't mention my
narrow escape from the witches' brew. My honey is a realist and he would have
said it was my imagination working overtime.
But, witches are every bit as real as fantasy football teams, and nobody
questions their reality.
Copyright 2007 Sheila Moss
Nashville, TN 37219
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