Re: Yardwork with the son, part I
- From: "NapalmHeart" <olsonfamNOSPAM@xxxxxxxxx>
- Date: Sun, 4 Jan 2009 18:28:47 -0500
"James Schrumpf"
<jaspammenotschrumpf@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx> wrote in
message
news:Xns9B899B011B23Fjaschrumpfusenetstic@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
We did the live Christmas tree thing this year,
meaning that I had to dig a
hole in the front yard in late December. I put
the wheelbarrow over it
upside-down, with a cinderblock on it, to cover
it up.
Today my 21-year-old Penn Stater was helping me
plant the tree. We had
loaded it onto the hand truck and I was backing
it down the yard with my
son holding the tree on the truck so that it
wouldn't roll off.
I am walking backwards pulling the truck.
He is walking forwards, looking over my
shoulder.
Keep this in mind.
I ask him "Are we headed towards the hole?", and
he says we are.
We're talking as we walk the tree down the yard,
and I'm just about to ask
if we're close yet as I step backwards into the
hole, my foot going between
the side of the hold and the edge of the
wheelbarrow. I feel the flesh
peeling off my anklebone as it grinds past.
The subsequent conversation goes something like:
"Why didn't you tell me I was about to step into
the hole?!"
"I couldn't see it!"
"How could you not see it? You were looking
right at it!"
"I couldn't see it through the tree and you!
Why didn't you see it?"
"How could I see behind me?"
And so on for a couple of minutes.
Finally we both start laughing, and I wonder if
the neighbors across the
street shooting hoops saw our Two Stooges
routine.
I'm glad you both ended up laughing. These times
will likely become fewer and fewer as he gets
older.
Ken
.
- References:
- Yardwork with the son, part I
- From: James Schrumpf
- Yardwork with the son, part I
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