Imagine having a goose for a pet. A Canadian goose. But not just any old Canadian goose. A hyperactive, disturbingly loud, never-tired-of-honking Canadian goose.
Now strap a siren to the goose. A siren that never stops wailing, day or night. And make sure it’s loud. So loud that it rattles your eardrums no matter how far away in your house you are from the goose.
Next, tie an alarm clock around the goose’s neck. One of those cheap alarm clock radios you find in a hotel room. A broken alarm clock that you can’t shut off and beeps incessantly. And make sure the volume is all the way up.
Then put some tap shoes on the goose’s webbed feet. And while you’re at it, stick a few tacks inside each shoe so that the goose will honk loudly with each and every step. And tie a string of empty cans around its body, which the goose will then drag behind it as it follows you around the house.
On second thought, forget the goose.
Too much poop.
Go out and hire a professional yodeler. Preferably a pubescent yodeler whose voice is constantly cracking and sending him way off key. Then give him a megaphone and have him follow you around all day yodeling, at the top of his lungs, the song from the Cliffhangers game on “The Price is Right.”
You know what? Forget the yodeler.
Download “The Chicken Dance” song to your smartphone. Now plug in your earbuds, set the song to repeat, and put the volume on high. Start playing it as soon as you wake up and continue playing it all day long until you go to bed.
Now maybe, just maybe, you’ll understand what it’s like to live with my son, aka The Animal.
And people wonder why I’m always grumpy. (Not to mention hard of hearing.) ~
Copyright © 2017 Valentine J. Brkich