Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Don't make me get my flying monkeys

You smack your cars driver side mirror backing out of the garage one time and you're labeled for life? A Car Drivers Side Mirror breaker? Labeled by those that you carried in your womb for nine, give or take, months?
The dog and I went out for our usual morning walk. We both took notice at the remnants of a cars side mirror. The dog sniffed the mailbox and I inspected it, we deemed it fit. Somebody had hit our mailbox with their cars side mirror. Being somewhat of an expert on the plastic pieces and parts that make up those mirrors I deduced that we had all the outside parts and there is somebody driving around the neighborhood with only the guts of their passenger side mirror and 7 years of bad luck.
With my one time incident, I only popped off the big plastic piece on the back and broke a few pieces around the mirror. The mirror remains intact and so are my next 7 years, hopefully. I gathered the fragments of the late night assault on our mailbox and left them on the grass, thinking the out of control driver might want them back. I even thought that if it was a little warmer outside I might set up a lawn-chair to see if anyone drove by looking suspicious and without a mirror on the right side of their car. I wanted to say 'hey what the hell'...... in a non-confrontational way. But like I said it was a little chilly out.
The day then carried on as usual with me striving to meet with writing success and the dog napping. I then began to prepare dinner for my beloved family. First to come home from work was Boy #3. He walked in the door with a smirk on his face and asked,
"Hey mom, what'd you do to your car?"
I looked his way as he tried to suppress a smile, I pointed my finger at him and said,
"That isn't from my car. Some moron hit our mailbox. Why would you think it was my mirror?"
"Uhh... because I'm the one that put your mirror back together the last time you crashed into the garage."
As I was explaining my almost perfect driving record while slaving over the stove Boy #2 walked in the door, grinning and asked,
"What uhh.... what'd you do to your car mom?"
"It isn't from my car! Some idiot hit our mailbox!"
They both continued to grin. This was going to go on all evening, I know my boys.
"Go back your car out of the garage so we can see for sure."
"Wait! Maybe you better let one of us do it."
I continued to cook my gourmet meal for them and shook my wooden spoon in there faces. My eyebrows came together, my eyes narrowed into two menacing slits on my face and I started to ramble while swinging the wooden spoon,
"You two are alive because of me, carried you in my body for nine months. Labor, don't get me started on labor. 12 hours for each of you and no epidural. Tell me I'm a bad driver will ya? I taught you two how to drive."
They slowly started to plan there escape, well it's the same plan they always use, they separate. Every man for himself kind of plan. But before they were out of earshot I shouted out to them,
"Don't make me get my flying monkeys!"
I retold
the story to my mother about finding the broken car part by my mailbox and she said,
"Oh I thought you were going to tell me you hit it."


Venom said...

"I wanted to say 'hey what the hell'...... in a non-confrontational way."

Hey, me TOO! All the damn time.

But somehow, when the words hit my lips they always sound confrontational....

Eh, can't win 'em all.

Symdaddy said...

Admit it!

It was you, wasn't it?

Sue said...

Venom - I just don't see you saying hey what the hell in a non confrontational way ever! ;-)

Symdaddy - It was the same color and size as my cars but I swear I have both my mirrors.

ReformingGeek said...


Either that was the wooden spool hitting home or your mirror hitting the mailbox. Your guess.