Don't You DARE!!

About two hours before we had to leave for our flight to Portland, OR, my parents come over to pick up the new menu I had designed for them. I wanted to make sure that everything was 100% perfect before I made up a batch. My dad looks everything over and gives it the okay and so we go into Peter's office to print them out. Meanwhile, my mother settles herself in my kitchen so she can cook up sesame and Yakisoba noodles for us to bring on our flight. Isn't she great?

As soon as we get into Peter's garage/office/man cave, my dad complains about HOW MUSTY it is in here and WHAT IS THAT SMELL? (my room freshener from Crabtree and Evelyn) He was all, WE HAVE TO OPEN A WINDOW! WHY IS THERE ONLY ONE WINDOW? He was about to try to open the garage door when I flung myself in his path.

"DADDY! The garage door is BOLTED to the floor! I am going to the airport in TWO HOURS. I think we can handle non-fresh air for the next FIVE MINUTES!"

And here is where I make my mistake. I turn my head around and get busy printing up the menus. A minute later, I hear a loud THUNK.

I look up and see the electrical cord for the air conditioner pulled taut and an empty space where the air conditioner used to be. I turn around and I see my mother rushing to the door to see what had happened and we exchange THE LOOK.

THE LOOK is what all the women in my family exchange with each other when my dad does something so ridiculously annoying.

I ignore the situation and continue printing up the menus while my father brings the air conditioner inside, all the while complaining about Peter not bolting the air conditioner into the window and how DANGEROUS this is.

"Daddy?" I say. "How am I going to explain to Peter why the air conditioner isn't in the window anymore?"

My father looks at me and says. "Well...just tell him that I saw it in the window...and decided to do him a favor by bringing it inside...you know...because it's getting cold."

"So he's going to believe that, out of the goodness of your heart, that you decided to bring in the air conditioner?"

"Sure, why not?"

"And how am I going to explain why it doesn't work anymore?"

"Oh, I don't think it's broken. It landed in the dirt. The dirt's not that hard."

"Okay, so I won't tell him what happens until next summer when he turns on the air conditioner and it doesn't work."

"DON'T YOU DARE tell him about this!"

I give my father a, "yah right" look.

"FINE! Tell him if you want! But if he yells at me for this, I'm yelling AT HIM for not securing that air conditioner! HE'S the one whose fault this is!"

Right. It's his fault. You see what I had to grow up with?