15 April 2019
947
R. Linda:
I haven't seen it all, have never said I have, and don't believe I will. I never know what to expect from my family, and in some ways, that's a good thing; in others, not so good. This weekend, Sean and my youngest, share a bond of being Mr. Fixits. They take things apart and put them back together. Sometimes the putting back together doesn't work out, but on occasion, it does. When it be something like my lawnmower that is taken apart and NOT put back together I have a big problem with both of them, Sean in particular. My lawnmower is like me chainsaw, off-limits as they both should be.
The wee one saw a cartoon movie (I believe it was Cars), and that has left a lasting impression on him where the taking things apart and making other things out of those parts, I think came from. Lightning McQueen (the starring cartoon car) was always being tweaked to go a little faster and look a little jazzier, and that was the motivation.
A few days ago, I got the mower out and mowed the lawn. It was a warm day, and I was all about not wanting to rake last fall's leaves out of the grass. Mowing them down would be less labour-intensive, and that's what I did. I left the mower by the garage; it needed gas, and I was going to get some only got sidetracked by Tonya showing me what areas of her garden she wanted to expand this summer.
Because the mower hasn't been out, I forgot about it and didn't notice it was missing from the garage where I left it. It had been moved inside the garage. where the engine was taken out and put into a non-motorised kiddie ATV. The two "mechanics" somehow rigged the motor into the back of the kiddie ATV. As I was making my way to the garage to get a spade (it being Saturday now, and I wanted to put stakes in Tonya's garden), the kiddie ATV came zooming out of the garage, knocking down and running over Tonya's dirt bike, and if that's wasn't enough damage, straight (and driverless I might add) into me automobile.
The crunch was audible all over the neighbourhood I am sure, and the huge dent in the passenger side door had me mind seeing dollar signs of large numbers. They took out both the bicycle and the car.
"What were you thinking?!" Those words, I shouted as I ran to get the still-running kiddie ATV back from further damage to my car. Tonya was right behind me as we both struggled with the ATV.
"Come turn this thing off!" She shouted behind her as Sean reluctantly came out of the garage. His young partner in crime had run inside as soon as he saw the ATV take off because he KNEW he was in big trouble.
I had to shout at Sean to hurry it up as Tonya, and I tried to hold the thing back. He finally half ran over and, with a flick of his wrist, turned the damn thing off.
The bike is totalled, and the car has about $1200 worth of damage. The lawnmower will have to be replaced entirely, and you know that's big bucks right there because the engine was dented, and fuel was leaking all over the pavement. There is no way to get the dent out, fix the leak, or get the engine back in the lawnmower, so that's that.
Sean can't be leaving soon enough. He was presented with a bill for all of this, and so far, I have got $5.00. I don't expect to get any more because we are talking Sean here. Luckily my insurance covers everything but the dirt bike. That bike Tonya had since our days in Boston, so it had a lot of sentimental value as well.
As to the wee culprit, he is grounded from Mr. Fixit. I told him he couldn't even look at him, and if he did speak, look, or touch that man, he would be grounded until the age of 60! My goodness, what possessed them both, I do not know.
Meanwhile, my grey-haired, apple-cheeked little Mam was having a bit of confusion of her own going. She told me Bob (our faux bobcat) was getting on her nerves, meowing for food. She thought he might have a tapeworm because he suddenly got very skinny, but just the morning before last, he was fatter than a Cheshire cat, and then yesterday he was Mr. Skinny, and just this morning, he was fat again. This she told me over coffee as I was getting ready to leave for work.
I looked out the mudroom door to the landing, where there was Bob's cat bed and his food. Bob was in bed, catnapping and looking huge. I told her he looked fine to me, and she just clucked her tongue and said, "Well, you wait until supper time, and he be all skinny guy again."
I got my coat and was headed out the backdoor when coming up the stairs yowling for food was Bob and he was thin as a rail. I was so stunned I stopped and watched him as he rubbed up against me, pleading for food. I was thrown I was.
"See dat, he's skinny like I tole ya," Mam said, looking out the screen door.
"I don't understand this, I just saw him in his cat bed, and he was so big and hanging over the sides that I thought you were losing it," I said, picking Bob up and bringing him in. I was taking him to the mudroom landing, where I knew he still had a large bowl of food (Mam had been giving him double portions to fatten him up), and as I opened the door, I saw the cat in the cat bed stretch and yawn. I looked from the cat in my arms to the cat in the bed and realised we had two tiger cats that looked the same, except ours did not have a tail, and this one did!
Yup, seems Mam had been feeding the neighbourhood stray that decided bed and food were a good thing and chased our Bob away. The hissing from both as one saw the other had me drop Bob and close the mudroom door before we had a full-scale catfight on our hands.
So, the mystery was solved, but now we have another cat. Me Mam has Bob in the kitchen now, feeding him inside and the intruder has laid claim to the landing. On my way home, I was instructed to pick up another cat bed. Never a dull moment, I tell ya!
Lastly, a week ago, when we were planning a going-home party for Sean (can't be soon enough), I took the wee one with me to the card store. I needed a sarcastic card for my cousin's "deportation" as I so fondly like to refer to it, and since no one was home to watch the wee one, I took him with me. We have no Hallmark store here, so the drugstore is the only place to buy a decent card.
Unfortunately, in this case, me wee one be an exuberant, excited type who loves life and every day is an adventure. This I didn't take into mind as I entered the store, as usually he's pretty well-behaved. But once in the card department, he became that exuberant, excited child and proceeded to examine every card in the store. It did not matter; I was looking for Bon Voyage cards, he took out baby shower, anniversary, hope you feel better, and any cards that caught his fancy. The drugstore had only opened recently, and we had been met by a very pleasant lady (store manager) who welcomed us at the door and asked if she could help us find anything in particular. I had said cards and she took us to that section and busied herself at the other end sorting Russell Stover's candy boxes.
All I can say is I will not be visiting the card section of any store with me wee one until he's reached the age of 29. Any card that played music or had some kind of audio feature was played over and over and over until I snatched it away, or worse, he got tired of it and put it back in the wrong place. I was bombarded with "Git dis one, Daddy," no matter it wasn't a going away card. I was surprised the store manager didn't say something about the amounts of cards being opened and examined by someone who can't read. Fond memory though.
Gabe
Copyright © 2019 All rights reserved
947
R. Linda:
I haven't seen it all, have never said I have, and don't believe I will. I never know what to expect from my family, and in some ways, that's a good thing; in others, not so good. This weekend, Sean and my youngest, share a bond of being Mr. Fixits. They take things apart and put them back together. Sometimes the putting back together doesn't work out, but on occasion, it does. When it be something like my lawnmower that is taken apart and NOT put back together I have a big problem with both of them, Sean in particular. My lawnmower is like me chainsaw, off-limits as they both should be.
The wee one saw a cartoon movie (I believe it was Cars), and that has left a lasting impression on him where the taking things apart and making other things out of those parts, I think came from. Lightning McQueen (the starring cartoon car) was always being tweaked to go a little faster and look a little jazzier, and that was the motivation.
A few days ago, I got the mower out and mowed the lawn. It was a warm day, and I was all about not wanting to rake last fall's leaves out of the grass. Mowing them down would be less labour-intensive, and that's what I did. I left the mower by the garage; it needed gas, and I was going to get some only got sidetracked by Tonya showing me what areas of her garden she wanted to expand this summer.
Because the mower hasn't been out, I forgot about it and didn't notice it was missing from the garage where I left it. It had been moved inside the garage. where the engine was taken out and put into a non-motorised kiddie ATV. The two "mechanics" somehow rigged the motor into the back of the kiddie ATV. As I was making my way to the garage to get a spade (it being Saturday now, and I wanted to put stakes in Tonya's garden), the kiddie ATV came zooming out of the garage, knocking down and running over Tonya's dirt bike, and if that's wasn't enough damage, straight (and driverless I might add) into me automobile.
The crunch was audible all over the neighbourhood I am sure, and the huge dent in the passenger side door had me mind seeing dollar signs of large numbers. They took out both the bicycle and the car.
"What were you thinking?!" Those words, I shouted as I ran to get the still-running kiddie ATV back from further damage to my car. Tonya was right behind me as we both struggled with the ATV.
"Come turn this thing off!" She shouted behind her as Sean reluctantly came out of the garage. His young partner in crime had run inside as soon as he saw the ATV take off because he KNEW he was in big trouble.
I had to shout at Sean to hurry it up as Tonya, and I tried to hold the thing back. He finally half ran over and, with a flick of his wrist, turned the damn thing off.
The bike is totalled, and the car has about $1200 worth of damage. The lawnmower will have to be replaced entirely, and you know that's big bucks right there because the engine was dented, and fuel was leaking all over the pavement. There is no way to get the dent out, fix the leak, or get the engine back in the lawnmower, so that's that.
Sean can't be leaving soon enough. He was presented with a bill for all of this, and so far, I have got $5.00. I don't expect to get any more because we are talking Sean here. Luckily my insurance covers everything but the dirt bike. That bike Tonya had since our days in Boston, so it had a lot of sentimental value as well.
As to the wee culprit, he is grounded from Mr. Fixit. I told him he couldn't even look at him, and if he did speak, look, or touch that man, he would be grounded until the age of 60! My goodness, what possessed them both, I do not know.
Meanwhile, my grey-haired, apple-cheeked little Mam was having a bit of confusion of her own going. She told me Bob (our faux bobcat) was getting on her nerves, meowing for food. She thought he might have a tapeworm because he suddenly got very skinny, but just the morning before last, he was fatter than a Cheshire cat, and then yesterday he was Mr. Skinny, and just this morning, he was fat again. This she told me over coffee as I was getting ready to leave for work.
I looked out the mudroom door to the landing, where there was Bob's cat bed and his food. Bob was in bed, catnapping and looking huge. I told her he looked fine to me, and she just clucked her tongue and said, "Well, you wait until supper time, and he be all skinny guy again."
I got my coat and was headed out the backdoor when coming up the stairs yowling for food was Bob and he was thin as a rail. I was so stunned I stopped and watched him as he rubbed up against me, pleading for food. I was thrown I was.
"See dat, he's skinny like I tole ya," Mam said, looking out the screen door.
"I don't understand this, I just saw him in his cat bed, and he was so big and hanging over the sides that I thought you were losing it," I said, picking Bob up and bringing him in. I was taking him to the mudroom landing, where I knew he still had a large bowl of food (Mam had been giving him double portions to fatten him up), and as I opened the door, I saw the cat in the cat bed stretch and yawn. I looked from the cat in my arms to the cat in the bed and realised we had two tiger cats that looked the same, except ours did not have a tail, and this one did!
Yup, seems Mam had been feeding the neighbourhood stray that decided bed and food were a good thing and chased our Bob away. The hissing from both as one saw the other had me drop Bob and close the mudroom door before we had a full-scale catfight on our hands.
So, the mystery was solved, but now we have another cat. Me Mam has Bob in the kitchen now, feeding him inside and the intruder has laid claim to the landing. On my way home, I was instructed to pick up another cat bed. Never a dull moment, I tell ya!
Lastly, a week ago, when we were planning a going-home party for Sean (can't be soon enough), I took the wee one with me to the card store. I needed a sarcastic card for my cousin's "deportation" as I so fondly like to refer to it, and since no one was home to watch the wee one, I took him with me. We have no Hallmark store here, so the drugstore is the only place to buy a decent card.
Unfortunately, in this case, me wee one be an exuberant, excited type who loves life and every day is an adventure. This I didn't take into mind as I entered the store, as usually he's pretty well-behaved. But once in the card department, he became that exuberant, excited child and proceeded to examine every card in the store. It did not matter; I was looking for Bon Voyage cards, he took out baby shower, anniversary, hope you feel better, and any cards that caught his fancy. The drugstore had only opened recently, and we had been met by a very pleasant lady (store manager) who welcomed us at the door and asked if she could help us find anything in particular. I had said cards and she took us to that section and busied herself at the other end sorting Russell Stover's candy boxes.
All I can say is I will not be visiting the card section of any store with me wee one until he's reached the age of 29. Any card that played music or had some kind of audio feature was played over and over and over until I snatched it away, or worse, he got tired of it and put it back in the wrong place. I was bombarded with "Git dis one, Daddy," no matter it wasn't a going away card. I was surprised the store manager didn't say something about the amounts of cards being opened and examined by someone who can't read. Fond memory though.
Gabe
Copyright © 2019 All rights reserved
