A lot of us Buffalonians have offspring who have wandered out of state to bite the bullet working for large billion dollar corporations. Their thrust finds them living in high growth fenced communities with gated entry. The majority of relaxation finds no relief from their Blackberries and constant text messaging. They find their moments as they can. Vacations are regularly interrupted. Such began a late afternoon poolside after I trekked to my daughter's in San Antonio.

The association had recently inflicted a ban on smoking and drinking poolside which infuriated most of the residents. After all, they frequented resorts where the bar was IN the pool. My daughter decided to pour from her Eddie Bauer travel thermos after the lifeguards left for the day. She was insistent I enjoy with her a well recommended wine called "Fat (illegitimate child)". It is a nice wine I admit although her lighting up a cigar nudged at my page. She kept trying to impress me with all the things you could not find or do in Buffalo. She did concede after a few, chicken wings were not to be found and pizza was a either a Mexican or Oriental disaster.

Wrapped in huge Egyptian towels we climbed in her Mercedes (one of two) and headed back to her new home. The phone calls were constant but she proclaimed a perfect life. Perhaps so I began to agree. After all she had 100 bottles of nail polish. Yes, I counted a bit disappointed her materialistic side had burgeoned. I set the wet towels on the top loading Maytag and would wash them later with other such luxury items. She had a few errands to run and was going to bring home dinner since she hates to cook.

I waited until she was gone and ran down the 50 foot hall with her dog and we both jumped up on the feather laden guest bed. I clearly heard the Australian Sheppard utter, "Ahhhh". To me a nap is the biggest luxury there is. I awoke an hour later and as I went by the laundry room it seemed a good idea to wash the wet swimming towels. My glasses were by the bed and as I lifted the lid to load the towels I saw what appeared to be a clump of brown grass in the bottom of the washer. It sort of made sense since she rides her (Two) horses. My hand got two inches from it and it started to dart about. My sight restored I was stunned but saw clear as day what was in the washer. I knew my constellations and have watched National Geo enough identify to identify the situation.

My luck was with me. Across the street a salesmen was showing a new house to a prospect. After the buyers left I struck up a conversation with the salesman and flattered him concerning his brave and adventuresome Texas attitude. On my invite he came sidewinding into the laundry room to access the situation. We then proceeded to dissect the intruder with long nosed pliers. First you cut the curved tail off and render it harmless. Then you pick up the scorpion body and you flush everything. Problem all fixed. They cannot climb up a slick surface and cannot survive water so he figured the critter hung on one of the towels we wore from the pool rocky area and hitched a fancy car ride home with us. Perfect. Huh?

Well perfect life or no, I had to warn her. Mothers are like that. She went ballistic searching everywhere to see if there were more. She imagined them under the washer and dryer. Her life was perfect before I showed up. I admit we both wore shoes that night and had nightmares until the exterminator arrived in the morning. He said with the building and ground disturbances in the area she might see them - from time to time. She was horrified. He explained to her they can walk right in under the door. He said they are only deadly IF you are allergic and you don't know that UNTIL you are stung. She started taking prescription medication.

My point - life is not perfect anywhere. Is it important to have the most the biggest and the best? To some living large is what it's all about. I've only seen one scorpion in Buffalo. It was bigger than the one I found in her Maytag. I saw it the other day for sale in PETCO. A pet? I had half a mind to buy it, crush it flat and mail it to her with a note, "Mine's bigger than yours". No, I'll just enjoy a glass of "Fat B.. Wine" here in Buffalo, thanks, limit my cell phone use to less than constant, and live middle of the road.