Maybe it's just me, but I have been keeping a list of things I never thought I would yell. I have had a great laugh over the years at some of the responses I have had to what transpires around this house. I added another one yesterday.
I was out cleaning out the inside of the Suburban. It needed it. God did it need it. Two full carpet shampoo basins of awful colored water. Yech. Anyway, I was listening in on what goes on in the court so as to head off any mayhem, and to have a good description of what happened for any paramedics or other uniformed officials that might arrive on the scene. I have taken to just belting out commands without a second thought when the situation calls for it. So here it is:
"NO ONE rides to their doom in the Chariot of Death without a helmet!" *Why? Cause if you are on any wheeled device in MY court, you have to have a helmet on. Even if you are NEAR one, put your hat on. If you look like you are thinking about it, put it on. As a matter of fact, if you are outside, wear your helmet.* Joe was giving rides "to your doom" to the neighbor kids. He has a broken arm, you see, otherwise he would be doing it himself. Believe me, he tried. I stopped him. Anyway, the Chariot of Death ride is a quick pull down the steep driveway next door followed by an immediate release of the handle of the old rickety big wheeled plastic playschool wagon with the wheels that turn independently in the front. But wait, there's more. Obstacles. Low, wheel course changing obstacles. Otherwise, it just isn't a Chariot of Death. Oh- they had to do it with their hands in the air. Why on earth would you want to wear a helmet for that?!
Joe's response?- "Chariot of FIERY Death, dad! Get it right!"
Oh. I stand corrected. Carry ID so they can identify the body.
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