Saturday, December 8, 2007

Deal Or No Deal

I took some time off yesterday, a rare vacation day without the kids. It was great. A friend of mine came over, we drank some coffee, shampooed the carpets. I even cleaned the downstairs refrigerator, which had suffered the explosion of a can of diet Coke long enough ago I'm ashamed to admit it.

After we finished cleaning, we set about to bothering other people. The high point of that part of the day was the email to another friend who happens to be a city official, warning him about the rat infestation taking place in local recycling bins. It generated several panicked emails in response, along with a promise to look into it. At some point we may tell him we made it up. Or we may not.

About 4 p.m., my youngest got home from school. My friend's kid had walked home with my son and they both immediately started yammering at us. Quiet time was over.

We shooed them upstairs to do their homework, which bought us ten or twenty minutes. Then my friend's kid came back downstairs.

"Want to see me do a back flip?" he asked.

"No. You'll kill yourself," I said.

"How much insurance do you have?" his father asked me.

"We've got a $2 million umbrella policy," I answered.

"That'll work. We'll split it seventy/thirty."

His son looked up, puzzled. "What are you talking about?" he asked.

"How we're going to divide the money when you die," his father said.

"What?!" the boy yowled.

"Fifty/fifty," I said. "I'm the one who'll have to shampoo the carpet again."

"Sixty/forty, and I'll shampoo it for you," said my friend.

"They're going to kill me!" yelled his kid.

"No, you're going to kill yourself when you do the back flip. Fifty-five/forty-five and I'll pay for the funeral," I said.

"NO!!" shrieked the boy.

"Deal," said his dad.

"Done," I said.

We shook hands as his son ran upstairs to hide.

It was a good day all around.


Chuckles said...


Righteous Bubba said...

Once they're in the casket you can finally make 'em wear that cute little sailor outfit.

Brando said...

I have nothing to add other than that was hilarious.

Kathleen said...

you could make a killing during the writers' strike, fulfilling America's need for treacly family sitcoms.

fish said...

Make sure he hits the TV when he does it. That way you can get an even bigger one with the insurance.

Jennifer said...

Stop making deals, Snag, and get baking!

If there is no entry from Snag, I fear the world will stop spinning.

zombie rotten mcdonald said...

Snag could never live up to the expectations, unless his box contains Katie's dog food, his new tv's remote and a severed head.

Snag said...

What makes you think I won't live up to expectations? I'm just trying to decide how to divvy things up between the judges.