Michael D. Davis.

Somewhere in the living room, there is a small wooden box marked with a label that reads “Mike’s Balls.” Years ago, I gathered together all of the hacky sacks, bouncy, and stress balls that I owned and put them in this box. Why? So that I could make that label.

I said it before, and I’ll say it again, I love words. And one of the things that is simply great about words is double entendres. Whether it is said purposefully or naively, there is little better than a perfectly worded double entendre.

Although double entendres sneak up everywhere, it is my belief that the mechanic, plumber, and construction workers of the world have the richest crop. I realized this at a young age when my Father first attempted to teach me about vehicle maintenance. He took me over to the car, popped the hood, and said, “First thing, we should pull out our dipstick.”

Over the years, I have heard my Father naively say a wide number of construction and mechanic related double entendres. A few that I recall are: “All we have left is the screwin’.” “I dropped my nuts, can ya look for them?” And, “I gotta go out tomorrow and get some new nipples.”

A month or two back my sister decided to try and replace the bathroom faucet by herself, for the most part, that is a story for a different day. However, one Sunday afternoon, I walked into the kitchen to see my sister examining the new faucet. I said that I thought she was installing it that day, and she told me she still needed something.

I asked what, and she said silicone caulk. I’m sure you’ll be surprised at the fact I didn’t say anything. I kept it all inside, although my body trembled. But my sister spoke on, and she stated that our Father probably had some silicone caulk, but she didn’t want to borrow any from him because she didn’t want him to know about her attempt to replace the faucet herself.

I cracked. I couldn’t take it. I can’t remember word for word what I said because I think I blacked out in joy. I don’t exactly remember, but I may have said something along the lines of ‘You may as well buy some new caulk because Father’s is probably old and useless, and that’s even if he can find it.’ I mean, the old man leaves stuff everywhere, who knows where his caulk could be?

Skipping ahead, the new faucet is installed and working great. That is until the other day. Out of nowhere, the usual robust flow of water is reduced to a dwindling drip. After much thought and investigation, my sister fixed the problem.

Some pieces of dried-up hoary caulk clogged the spigot. She had to take off the tip and clear it out in order to restore the robust flow. Now, we will know for the future, if the water is at a dribble, the caulk is most likely to blame.

In conclusion, I am not overly mechanically inclined, but the double entendres alone kind of make me want to be. If I ever do learn these skills, you can rest assured I’ll be out there finding my nuts, checking my dipstick, applying the caulk, and greasing my nipples. You know what? I may do that anyway.