Margie: Edna, I'm really proud of the work ethic our parents instilled in us. Both of them believed in hard work although they weren't work-a-holics.
In all my years working as a librarian I worked like a dog too. Edna, how hard does a dog work? Most dogs I know lay around all day.
Edna: I do not know how that figure of speech got started, because you're surely right about dogs and their work habits. Sometimes I think they have the right idea.
Mama and Daddy would have been proud if they could see how hard we still work today, even though we don't have jobs anymore. It takes a lot of work just to keep this old homestead going, even with Cousin T helping us out occasionally. I think I work harder now than I ever did when I was the receptionist at the Salt Mine, and I worked 12-hour days back then.
Margie: You're surely right, Edna. Being a librarian was more work than anybody could imagine. Do you know what hard work it was to find a private place so I could read all the new books before they got checked out?
Exactly what kind of work do you do around here now, Edna? I can't recall seeing that.
Edna: Don't start on me, old woman, you're not going to ruin yet another blog post with your snippy remarks. You know good and well that I do all the work that you neglect while you're holed up down there in the basement. You're working like a dog on something down there, but I think you're working at being up to no good.
Margie: Sister, what I'm up to in the basement is all good. My lips are sealed.