Saturday Chores and More

My parents have been having trouble with some pests in the garage recently. There was abundant evidence of uninvited guests and some wires in the car even got eaten straight through. The problem became amplified when we discovered a tunnel in the dirt going from the garden into the garage. The tunnel was so sophisticated that it had a railcar, lighting, and airholes; it was about 1.5 feet long. My parents tried to remedy the situation peacefully, hiring a lawyer to write up an eviction notice which was then stapled to the garage door and the tunnel entrance, but still the problems persisted. We knew an extermination order was due so we chose Saturday as the day to send a strong message to these pests. We weren't sure what the pests were, but the sand shovels, hockey sticks, and tennis balls suggested only one creature: neighborhood kids. Our predictions were confirmed when we say Billy, the 9 year old two doors down, walking past our house chewing on what unmistakably was car tubing. We did some research online about how to exterminate neighborhood kids from garages but none of the methods suggested looked ethical or legal. We decided to go rogue and solve the problem ourselves. If you want creatures never to come back you destroy their houses. As such, we burned the garage down. Just kidding. Instead we pulled everything out of the garage, filled up 4 garbage cans and 15 contractor bags (with junk like old wood, not with children), and swept up many nests and even a tree house the kids had built in the garage rafters. We plugged the tunnel with every kid's nightmare- broccoli- and then began putting things back into the garage. We were careful not to put things in the corner this time, and vowed to take care of the problem in the future before it got out of hand.
The next project was fixing the bathroom sink. My father declared war on the sink, and they appear to be in a stalemate. One photo of the carnage has surfaced, though I don't feel it does justice to the tragedy that has unfolded in my washroom. The only suggestion I could offer to Captain Bennett was so stop sawing off the

handles of my sink. It makes washing your hands, well, very hot. If I ever try to wash my face while visiting home I'm going to return to DC looking like Scarface. I'm not quire sure what Captain Bennett's next move is going to be, but the faucet is holding its position pretty steadily.

When the Saturday morning projects were done it was time for some R&R.  R and R, of course, standing for Riding and Revving. My Father, the Captain Bennett, in a show of intimidation to the neighborhood kids invading our garage and to the sink refusing to cool down, recently acquired his motorcycle's license. With this information we knew we had to go out riding and revving together. Luckily for us we have some amazing friends with amazing toys, like four Harleys. We borrowed them and went our for a stunning afternoon ride through gorgeous countrysides. We had no destination but absolute Zen in mind, and I think we both achieved it. We cruised, we went slow, we went fast, we saw equestrians practicing, we ate some bugs unintentionally, we bonded, and we picked up my Mom and took her for a ride. It was just a spectacular afternoon. Now do you see why I love visiting my family in Boston so much?