Do ya wanna duck or a chicken?
It's nearing 9:00am, and, as usual, I'm dreading the world's arrival. You see, in academia, arriving before 10:00am is a bit heretical. I, however, truly enjoy the morning hours of unadulterated work--those hours when no one comes in to chat or, worse, to demand my time for their purposes. Even though it means people get angry when you leave at 5:00pm when they have to stay until 6:00pm (you do the math and figure out what's wrong with that logic), I still like to be here by 7am regardless of my exhaustion from not sleeping.
Today is different though; I'm not enjoying it in the least. I don't want to rant and rave and frighten you away so I won't go into details, but please trust me when I tell you that today is not going to be a good one. Moreover, it appears that this entire week is going to be over-the-top. This will be a good week for you to buy stock in Kleenex, because I shall be using a lot of it (for both crying and my recently-developed-rat allergies).
So, you are probably asking yourself, "how does she stay sane and not throw herself from the 4th-floor balcony, as she threatens to do daily?" Well, the answer is complicated, but one could say it is because of my father. I'll give you an example:
Message left on my husband's cell phone by my father:
Hey, this is your father-in-law...you know, your wife's father (because my husband has several father-in-laws?)...Listen, I was calling to ask you...do you want chickens or ducks? I'll talk to you later....mmm, bye.
What I said to my husband when he told me:
Oh my God, no....no, not again!
(background: my childhood pets included: 2-ducks, more than 30 chickens, a goat, at least 10 dogs, more than 50 cats, 3-turkeys, guineas, numerous frogs, countless goldfish, gerbils, hamsters...the list goes on and on)
My husband returns my father's call:
Hey, what did you mean about wanting ducks or chickens?
I was at the flea-market (my father's favorite past time) and they had ducks and chickens. You can have your choice, but I'd go with the ducks. You can make a pond for them in your yard, and they'll be easier to keep.
Have I mentioned that we live IN a major city? Have I mentioned the multiple-zoning laws that my father has already tried to break for us (ex. 8-foot-tall, inflatable PINK rabbit)
I don't think we want...are you serious? You're joking right?
My mother in the background:
So help me God, if you bought more animals, I'm going to pack my things and leave. I'm not kidding this time.
Oh hon, you stay out of this.
I told you the last time, no more animals!
Please tell me you didn't buy us ducks.
Don't worry, I bought lots of food so it won't cost you a thing.
Husband to me:
Is he kidding?
I don't know--it's so hard to tell.
Husband (trying to call my father's bluff):
Well, I guess you can drop them off next time you're visiting.
Ahhh, so you really do want the ducks.
My God, don't try to call his bluff. He'll take that to mean you want ducks! He always takes the joke too far!
O.K. then, we'll bring them next time we're down...mmm, bye.
Me: Shit, did he hang up? Why did you let him hang up?!
My father used to take his rifle outside the night before Easter to "hunt rabbits".
My father told me one morning that I wasn't allowed to go outside because he had found "crop circles" in our field.
My father told me that there were "alligators" in our creek.
My father put explosives in a "ground hog hole" and set them off (he had dug the hole himself--chill out PETA).
Needless to say, two weeks have gone by, and we still have no ducks. I think we are safe.
This is what keeps me sane...you figure it out.