Things have been going really great. Today, my dad asked me to help him after church. He needed some help with his Polaris Ranger. He keeps small tires on it most of the year, but when hunting season comes, and it’s time to release the monster. Well, that’s when he calls me, and I come and help him put the larger, more intimidating “Super-Soaker-Monster-Mudders”, or something like that that on his UTV.
This sounds pretty boring to most people, and honestly it is. But my dad is a funny, great man. I love helping him, but it is constant battle for both of us. We battle so many things. The number one thing we battle is:
1. We have to keep the dogs from peeing on things. I know you may think this is something that shouldn’t be a big problem, but for me, for two hours this afternoon. Dogs peeing on things became the center of my universe.
My dad has saw-horses propped against every tire of every boat, every UTV, every ATV, and every other trailer under God’s green creation has something against it to keep these dogs from peeing on it. Each time I get ready to approach a different area, I’d stumble against some block or saw-horse who’s full purpose in life was to catch the dog pee. Every couple of minutes, as I twist a lug-nut or pump the grease-gun, I can hear my dad yell at one of my dogs to either not pee on this or not pee on that. It was exhausting, there were a few times I was pretty sure a dog was going to pee on me.
2. I was expecting the pee battle, it is something that comes up these days in daily life. Like I said, things are going great. The next battle, I was not expecting, mostly, because it was against a completely inanimate object. The grease-gun... Did you know that grease is prone to jump up and stain your clothes no matter where it is or where you are? I didn’t either, but now I do. It seemed every time I got within a foot or so my dad would tell me to watch out for the grease that was going to get on my clothes. Every time I would look around expecting the grease to be almost touching me. Every time it was so far away that the grease would literally have to go around a few things to get to me. In this case, not only would the fully-lifeless grease have to jump on me, but also other inanimate objects would have to be in cahoots, and have to be willing to move on its on for the first time in its life. I mean I get that I’m a target here. That it’s me vs the grease-gun. But even I am not a big enough target for dead things to all of a sudden start plotting against me, right?
I didn’t think it was physically possible, but by the 7th time he told me to “watch-out for the grease; it will ruin your clothes”, I was starting to wonder what there was about grease that I didn’t know. I knew that there were obviously some things about grease that my dad had learned in his 76 years that I could not possibly fathom in my mere 33 years of life.
Unfortunately, not all battles can be won. The last battle fought this afternoon was me against my clothes as I wielded my sword of Spray N Wash Stain-Stick against the grease that somehow, against all odds, had found its way onto the clothes I had worn during the job.
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