How males of any age, shape, form, or nature have survived this long is a complete and utter mystery to me. Take my brothers and their friend, for example. Let's call my oldest brother Larry, and my younger brother Moe, and Moe's friend, let's call him Curly. Just for the purpouses of this descussion.
Here it is, a beautiful spring day. Larry and I are going outside to spend a productful day washing the van--Let's call the van Moby Dick--when suddenly, out of nowhere, Moe and Curly come with water guns and the hose, and commence to KILL Larry. Well, Curly started by KILLING Moe, and then Moe and Curly started KILLING Larry, but whatever. So there we all are, the Three Sooges KILLING each other and ol' Moby and me washing up.
Once the washing of Moby (who hasn't seen the ocean in a while, poor fellow) is complete, Larry attempts to roll up the hose while I get the bucket and sponges. As you might have guessed, he encounters some dificulties. Curly, it seems, does not wish to relinquish the hose. He seems quite *ahem* attatched to the hose. In fact, he seems not to be able to let go, leaving Larry to drag him and the hose across the yard, leaving a trail of upturned scruff that my dad likes to call 'grass'.
But this is not the end. Oh, no. For after Larry gets the hose back in place (after shouting a great deal about the 'hooligans' and 'aqua terrorists' that are--well, terrorizing him), he runs into the house, while Moe and Curly position themselves conveniently outside the front door armed with fully loaded water cannons, a damp football, and the hose. "Come out and play!" they shout, waiving their destructive impliments around (I tell you, how they ever survived).
Dad goes to the open window, and very seriously says, "I don't suppose you two know that Larry is in in here crying, do you?" Larry comes around behind him. "We'll see about that!" he yells, and then goes into a tirade about fearing the ultimate wetness weapon, the all-powerful water baloon. Weirdo.
And there he stands inside the door. "I am armed," he yells triumphantly, "with FOUR water baloons, while you have only--a GARDEN HOSE!! I shall prevail!!" and instead of saying, "oh yes, that seems very reasonable, we'll just go bug someone else, then," like someone with half a brain and some sense would do, they hit him with a good, long spray from the hose. Not that he wasn't asking for it, but you know how parents are picky about how the house looks and feels, they don't want the stairway damp--and combine that with mad-as-a-wet-dog Larry, well, let's just say it wasn't the brightest thing to do. Larry dissapears to get more water baloons, while Moe and Curly yell out, "Come out, you scruffy self-made water baloon boy!"
While Larry is getting more water baloons, Moe and Curly spray the upstairs window screen, knocking it off the window and down onto the bushes below. Larry retreived it and put it back up in a huff, and now that the water fight is over, I have nothing to write about.
Well, except for the fact that NOSILAISGOINGTOCOLLEGEYAY but you know...
But there it is, how do males survive in the wild? the dangers of Wild Suburbia seem strange enough, I don't know what they would do without us.
"Without women, men would be mighty scarce,"