The art of pulling pork, losing kidenys and getting blamed
Well, Mem Day weekend has come and gone. All in all, it was a pretty good weekend, despite such crappy weather that's not going to allow us to play softball tonight. Dammit. Granted we were stuck in the same weather patter of severe/tornadic stuff for 5 days, but only once did we go under a tornado warning. Nothing happened though and I missed an opportunity to go storm chasing. Ok, I say missed, but I'm not allowed to go.On the actual Mem Day, I spent most of it with brisket and my first attempt at pulling pork on the grill. The pulled pork turned out wonderful, it's just that my stupid brisket had issues for once and I was not a happy person about that. Believe you me, I'm still not happy. The pork was amazing and everyone loved it. The brisket had good flavor,it just wasn't as done as it should have been. I think it had something to do with the escaping steam from the pan. Oh well, I'll get it back to where it should be next time, dang it.
We went over to friends' house to have a Mem Day get together. After supper, I was laying on the floor when a friend's 4 year old son came over and jumped on my back. Now, he calls me Bob and I call him Bob, despite his real name being Isaac. So this 4 year old with an incredibly bony butt is jumping up and down on my back, right about kidney level. Needless to say, eventually, it started hurting. Isaac finally stopped and I was barely able to breathe a sigh of relief. A little while later Isaac came back with a plastic plate because he was going to "take my green power."
I have no idea I had green power.
He's giggling and I grab him and pull him down on the floor with me. Now I've got him so he can only get away if he crawls forward and he's laughing and trying to get away. He's struggling to get away and laughing still. However, at the right time, he kind of squealed just as his mom came in the house from the porch. She climbed all over him with a very snappy "What was that? Stop that! Don't be a wussy."
I am not hurting the kid in any way. I'm not crushing him, I'm not doing anything to him. I just wasn't playin by his green power rules, or something. After his mom jumps on him for squealing, he starts to cry. I'm patting his back gently, while my mother has been watching this, supressing chuckles because he's trying for drama.
His crying draws the attention of his grandma or my dad's Only Friend's Wife. Grandma comes scurrying over to see what happened to poor Isaac and why he is crying. Isaac gives a very tear-filled account of how "Bob was holding me and I couldn't get away."
WHAT? The kid blamed me??? Are you kidding me? I just got the blame put on me by a 4 year old. As we left the house after the shindig, mom asked me to recount what happened because she was watching the whole thing take place. After recalling the blame game, mom said "That's exactly what his mother would have done. EXACTLY!"
And it's true.
He deserved it for ruining my kidneys....or something. No, I'm really nice to Bob.
posted by Rusty @ 8:02 AM
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