We have two huge trees in our backyard that have a terminal case of some dreaded tree fungus. We've given a valiant effort to ignoring the problem, but the time has come for them to pass on to that great big forest in the sky.
Shawn called a tree guy. I knew this. The tree guys came today. I knew this. I screeched into the driveway after dropping the kids at school and picking up groceries to throw in the crockpot for dinner (yes, this is the only way I cook anymore, thank you for asking) with a ten minute turnaround before I had to head back to school to help drive the First Grade class on a field trip. I saw the tree guy's truck in front of my house. I knew the tree guys were there.
I made pot roast in record time. I flew out of the house. I threw up the garage door. I was single-mindedly focused on getting Lulu's car seat out of my car (to make way for more First Grade booster seats) and making it to school on time.
I heard, "Mrs. Johnson?"
I jumped, turned and... screamed... in the tree guy's face.
He said, "I'm sorry. I'm blah blah blah* with blah blah blah* Tree Service. We're going to be working on your trees for the next couple of days."
I was so embarrassed that I just kept laughing and SMILING "the smile of the deranged" the whole time.
I tried to make some pleasantries about our pathetic, dying trees but it was too little, too late.
He just wanted to introduce himself. And, I screamed in his face.
He quickly stepped away from me. (I can't imagine.) And, I could not. stop. laughing. So, I proceeded to unload the car seat while laughing to myself the entire time with a permanent humiliated smile on my face. And, I think I shook my head at myself a couple of times for emphasis, too.
Truly. I looked like a lunatic in my own driveway.
As soon as I could drive away, (while throwing an embarrassed wave to the poor, bewildered tree guys), I called Shawn. I confessed that I had just brought shame to our family and relayed the story. He said...
"Well. This does not surprise me."
If I have not made it clear before that I do not know how to interact with people I don't know in an appropriate manner, let this be proof for you. I do not do it well. Not well at all. I have now added "shriek in their faces and can't stop laughing about it" to my repertoire.
It's probably best that I be kept away from the general population.
*No seriously. I'm not trying to protect the names of the innocent. I endured all that and I have NO. IDEA. what the tree guy's name is.
9 comments:
and they still let you drive the first graders on their field trip? didn't you have to have some sort of background check to voulnteer at school?
you make me smile. thank you!
right, mandi?! they should really have higher standards for field trip drivers...
Hahah! This sounds like one of those things that made you laugh throughout the day, even when you were by yourself...which made you look like more of an idiot- I mean more of a lady having a really happy day, right?!
Hysterical!!! Mothering is such a juggling act. Sometimes I feel like shrieking without any interaction with others, much less in moment where I am trying to quickly escape the others and am caught. Sounds like a morning which simply required a bit of shrieking! I think we should shriek every morning and just get it out of our systems early!
amy! i think you're brilliant! should we pick a specific time each morning so we can all shriek in unity?
Normally I would reserve the shrieking "in yo face" approach for people that annoy the shat out of me like soliciters...you know like the Girl Guides...but they bring me cookie goodness so they're safe...sometimes.
clearly, i reserve face shrieking for everyone.
i totally though you were going to go blazing out of the garage, right into one of their trucks. i'm not sure if that would have been more embarrassing than the shrieking.
i have taken to being so preoccupied with things, that k-ster need only appear in the room and i suddenly look up to see him and a shriek pops out. also like one from the deranged. but my favorite time to shriek is when the cat is on the back of the couch and i don't know it and i put my hand up near my head and touch fur. i have gone so far over the edge with this, screaming, wringing my hands and carrying on, only to realize the cat has been there for like an hour. i'm always certain it's a rat. i've never seen a rat around here, i don't know how it could sneak up onto the couch and neither k-ster, the cat of myself would see it and i'm pretty sure it wouldn't be this soft so i cannot explain my actions. i'm pretty sure the next time, the straightjacket will be put on. the cat cannot handle much more of this. especially when i realize what i've done and i can't stop laughing. like i'm doing right now, as i type this.
oh. hitting one of the trucks WOULD have been bad. see? it COULD always be worse! thanks, sparkling!
i shriek at shawn all the time when he rounds corners. he's taken to saying, "you know i live here, right?"
luckily, i don't have any cats to traumatize, or i'm sure i would be doing that right along-side you...
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