About once a month my Dad spends a Saturday taking everything out of our garage, and then putting it back in in a different configuration. He calls this "cleaning the garage." I find the process highly entertaining.
Yesterday my brother and I said we would like to clean out the garage. My Dad was skeptical about our ability to do this and our ability to tell trash from something useful. So he started listing things we should not get rid of... About an hour into the conversation I left because I was hungry. I went into the kitchen. My brother wandered in a half hour later. Ten minutes later my Dad came in still unsure if we knew what not to throw away. It's weird that he doesn't trust us...
One of the reasons I wanted to clean out the garage was that the other day I went in there to get a hiking backpack down from the top shelf and with it I almost pulled a circular saw down on top of my head. "Hmm," I thought," what an interesting place to store a circular saw."
This feeds into a highly improbable theory I have that my parents are secretly trying to kill me. They might also be trying to poison me too. Which is why at dinner I always wait to see if they eat the food first before I start eating.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment