Current mood:

giggly

The sky is falling!
Let me preface this post by saying that I have one of those wonderful, kooky grandfathers - we call him Joe. He is the type who is always coming up with new inventions (like getting squirrels drunk so he can catch them) and is always salvaging whatever my poor, beleaguered parents try to throw out from our childhood (like half-broken doll carriages).

Picture this: bright orange warning cones block half my driveway, a white plastic lawn chair teeters precariously on a large boulder on the other side of the driveway. The cones prevent my mom from parking in the garage and create a three-car pileup at the very end of my driveway.

Enter my mom:

Mom: Joe? What's with the cones?
Joe: What cones?
Mom: The cones that are stopping me from parking in my own driveway.
Joe: Oh, those cones. They're for the branch.
Mom: What branch?
Joe: The branch that's about to fall.
Mom: Why is the branch about to fall?
Joe: Because I've been trying to pull it down all day!
Mom: Why have you been trying to pull it down?
Joe: Because it's about to fall!
Mom: O-kaaaaaay. Let's try this: what's with the chair?
Joe: I was standing on it, of course, trying to pull the branch down.
Mom: Of course you were.
Joe: I threw the baseball attached to the fishing wire, trying to get it down - but I hit a car that was driving by.
Mom: You hit a car that was driving by??
Joe: Don't worry, they thought it was a nut.
Mom: I need to go hyperventilate now.
Joe: Don't walk near the cones, by the way. The fishing wire's still there.
Mom: No wonder we have no friends.

** Half Hour Later **

Dad storms into the house...

Dad: He's nuts. He's ****ing nuts.
Mom: Don't walk by the cones.
Dad: ** Holding a tangle of wire **
Me: **Dies laughing.**