Friday, July 12, 2013

Won't you be my neighbor? Part 3

This part of the story requires some background information. This background information will probably kill the punchline to the joke, but what are you going to do?

Background Info Subpart A: Hannah has this friend we will call Mountain Dave. Many moons ago, Hannah and Mountain Dave began an inside joke where they would randomly text each other as if they were Native Americans. (By way of defending the inevitable criticism ... Isn't white people mocking white people who misappropriate the cultures of others in it's own way not racist? Wrap your head around that one.)

For example, Hannah will randomly receive a text that says:

Anyway, just wanted to make sure you're going to be at the next pow wow. The theme is "Heritage of our fathers, Hope of our children." Oh, and bring your own buffalo but if you don't have one there will be plenty to go around after the heritage hunt...aka shooting arrows into a chained up buffalo.

Background Info Subpart B: I complained to a co-worker, Violet, about the letter the city had sent me about my lawn and the giant pain it had been to weed the front and sides of my house. I was dreading doing the backyard with our environmentally friendly (but wildly inefficient) hand-push lawn mower.

"My husband can come over and do it!" Violet offered immediately.

Now, my first impulse was to say no. That's a big favor to ask, first of all. But my second impulse was, "Yes! That would be so awesome! I will barbecue for you and everything!"

(To be fair, the second impulse was only expressed after I protested, and Violet assured me that her husband loves projects. He would load up his lawn mower in his truck, mow the lawn real fast, and then their kid could play with Spencer.)

Background Info Subpart C: Hannah's boyfriend S.Will (standing for "Straight Will," as opposed to Diego's boyfriend, G.Will, or "Gay Will") has, shall we say, a certain ... suspicion of cops. So when Violet offered her police officer husband's services, I immediately texted Diego and Hannah the good news, with an extra warning to prompt S.Will (just in case) that no cop talk would be tolerated at our Post-Lawn Care Celebratory Barbeque.

Background Info Subpart D: Hannah, who is in all respects an excellent roommate (thoughtful friend, good cook, sharer of books, and always quick with a solid joke), does have a teeny, tiny habit of leaving the last step of a task ... undone.

She puts all the leftovers away! (But forgets the lids...)

She feeds the dogs peanut butter! (But leaves the peanut buttery spit spoon on the counter ...)

She spills coffee and wipes off the counters! (But doesn't notice it dripped down the cupboards...)

This habit has lead to another joke: THERE'S NO TIME!

Whenever Diego or I want to tease Hannah about something, we yell, "There's no time!" like characters on ER or 24. (Regardless of whether running late actually was the cause of not noticing the coffee spilling onto the floor, it seems like as good an excuse as any.) Now even Hannah yells, "There's no time!" to explain why, for example, wet, smelly towels get left on the bathroom floor after a Charlie bath.

And because there is frequently NO TIME in the mornings before work, Hannah will take Charlie out to the backyard to poop and leave the poop there to bake in the sun, instead of taking him for a walk down the street and bagging the poop to be deposited in the trash.

The poops are usually all collected and removed on the weekends, but as I said ... it's been a crazy month for all of us.

Got all that?


So the day before Violet, her husband, and their kid came over to help us with our yardwork, Hannah remembered all the Charlie poops and went out to the yard to clean them up and throw them away. And then she texted me about it.

Hannah: If our backyard had an Indian reservation name, it would be Land of Many Poops and Weeds. Great Sadness.

Me: There will be a mighty powwow tomorrow. We shall cleanse the earth and celebrate with roasted meats and maize, and then dance under the blue corn moon.

Hannah: Only the white law man can restore honor to our forgotten lands.

Me: As the son of the white law man plays with the dogs and blesses the nightlands with his child's laughter. (There was some Game of Thrones mixed in with that one.)

Hannah: I noticed. Please blog about this later.

Done and done.



No comments:

Post a Comment