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Mom and dad are going to have a family cookout in a couple of weekends and wanted to do some yardwork.  Dad just had shoulder surgery and can't do anything.  So I, lucky duck, get to work with my mom supervising.

If you know my mom, you know why this is such a kick in the balls bundle of fun for me.  Between directing me to do the blatantly obvious to instructions that make no fucking sense (like, for a corner of the porch that needs to be swept, carrying the table down the steps and into the yard instead of just moving it to another corner of the porch), I dread working with her.

Washing down the siding on the porch is part of the agenda.  Anticipating this, I go under the house to the main shutoff value and switch on the water.  I come out, anxious to get the caked on dirt off my hands and knees.

Mom comes up.  "Peter, turn on the water to the hose."

"The water is on."

"No, it's not."

I pick up the hose with one of those dial hose heads that gardeners use and peg her right in the face with a jet of water.

She glares at me.

I say, "lulz."

A couple of minutes later, dad comes around to see how we are doing.  Mom sees the hose just lying there, and decides to get revenge.  Seeing this, I move a little to the side and behind my dad in anticipation of the, you should pardon the expression, "splash damage."  Mom activates the hose.  I get some water, and my dad gets the full force.  He's just glaring at her and you can hear him thinking, "She can't not know what she is doing."  After a few seconds, he yells, "SHUT THAT FUCKING THING OFF!"  Mom reacts likes she snapped out of a trace, and sees me minimally wet while dad's shirt, including part where his bandages are, are drenched.

She glares at me.

I say, "lulz."

She drops the hose in frustration and walks away.  I dash up to the hose and grab it.  She turns to say something and I peg her right in the face.

She glares at me.

I say, "lulz."

She stalks away, telling me I'm digging my own grave.  I look at the hose, and set the dial to "mist" before dropping it and walking away.  A couple of minutes later, my hands are full with a garbage bin.  Mom, seeing an opportunity, grabs the hose, takes aim at me, and the wind carries the mist right back into her face.

She glares at me.

I say, "lulz."

She throws the hose down.  Dad, meanwhile, is going back in the house because he doesn't want mom to see him laughing.  I tell him later that I actually enjoyed working with mom today, because "she's like a treasure chest of FAIL."


( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
Jul. 29th, 2009 02:08 am (UTC)
It seems that her actions are about a minute and a half ahead of her thought processes.
Jul. 30th, 2009 01:41 am (UTC)
*blink blink* How old are you again? ;>
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )

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