If dealing with my Father at this distance was not frustrating in itself, he really tries to "sweeten the pot".
Well click on this link, and you will go right to the newspaper of my Fathers town.
My Father measured 21 inches of snow on his back deck, oh and not only did he measure it. What else would a Cardiac patient with chest pain do, especially one that just spent a day at the ER, and a day at the cardiologist.
Well that certain cardiac patient would proceed to "SCOOP HIMSELF OUT". Yeah, you read right. He fucking thought he needed to scoop, even with nowhere to go.....
That crazy stubborn Midwestern gene kicked in, you know the one, the "We sure wouldn't anyone thinking I can't sccop" gene. Oh, and the snow is not powder. My Father reported to me, it was full of moisture, a good wet snow for the farmers, the kind of snow that is hard to get off your shovel.
So, I had my Dear Husband call my Dad and give him the "BUSTED" discussion. Dad fed him a line of bullshit, that if I were smart, I would start scooping. Because it is getting deep in here people. Between the bullshit scooping, and plucking out my gray hairs, heck I might do my nails.
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Let me pull out my gray hairs while you scoop snow......or...My Fathers Deathwish 2006
Posted by Rachelle Jones at 10:27 PM
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