I love my friend Idiot
The more I get to know him, the more I think we were separated at birth. For example; I am a Canadian, he embraces his distant Canadian heritage. We both have the sense of humor that very few people get. We both speak English and Canadian fluently. We are both scared of snakes. We love the same movies and have been known to exchange emails that simply have one line from the Blues Brothers Movie in it. That is the whole email. We are both Twitter virgins and have no desire to start.We both play the clarinet. We both battle Depression. Well you get the idea.
Lately, I have begun to think we are more alike than I previously thought. I have done a few things in the last week. They were not the smartest things in the world. These activities were usually followed by the thought "I bet The Idiot" would have either done that too or else will totally understand why it happened. Let me explain.
On Tuesday I had to take my life in my hands and go downtown. I hate going downtown. I hate the traffic and there is never any parking. It is a pain. I managed to avoid the panhandlers, drunks and traffic. I did this the easiest way I know how. I asked my Dad to drive me. Ha ha not so dumb after all. I had to get my Criminal Record and Child Abuse Registry checks updated. I needed to have an updated version for my interview this Tuesday. I had one from January but they want them done every six month. Which is kinda silly when you stop to think about it. The Child Abuse check takes 6 weeks. If it is only good for 24 weeks I am going to become a very regular and broke customer. Anyway. Of course it is in a government building. So what you ask? That means that every parking spot in a 5 mile radius is for the employees. So basically I could park two streets over from where I live and limp my way downtown or we could drive around forever to see if we could find a spot. Did I mention we brought my Mom along for the ride. She is a little bit of a nervous person. You know the type. You are travelling along happily through a green light when she grabs the door handle and gasps.
"That car almost went through the red light."
"What car Mom? "
You mean the one PARKED there missing two wheels? That car?
Yes. Didnt' you see it?
We finally found a parking spot on the street. Only four blocks from where I needed to go. Hooray. We won't talk about the Homeless man's cart that was parked there first.
Out we get and head over to the building. On the way back, my Mom begins to run. For an small older lady, she can sure move. As I am limping after her like Quasi Moto, I yelled why are we running. She announces she doesn't think we are allowed to park there and must move this instant. OK. By the time I get to car they are peeling rubber. The smoke from the spinning tires is making it a little hard to find the door handle. I finally grasp the handle and attempt to throw myself into the back seat. In the process I manage to whack my head on the car door. Not the door frame. Nope. That would be for smart people. Nope I actually attempted to close the door on my head. I have managed to give myself a slight concussion. Talent or what?
For my next act I will tell you about my experience in the kitchen. Now I am not a Master Chef by any stretch of the imagination. We live on the 4 food groups. Canned, frozen, take out, and microwavable. When my son was little, the only way I could get him to eat was to tell him it was OK his Grandma made it. Then he would gobble it up. Didn't matter if Grandma made it or not. If he thought she did then it was delicious. I was going to cook a roast in the slow cooker. I got it all ready to go. I then turned it on. I came back a little while later and took a look at it. It was at this point I freaked out. That was when I noticed that I had left the cord tucked in the slow cooker under the pot. I was so worried that I was going to ruin the slow cooker and melt the cord. I immediately turned it off, prepared the fire extinguisher, put on protective goggles, and cleared all children and pets from the kitchen. I then put on the oven mitts and carefully lifted the pot out so I could retrieve the cord. Has anyone else picked out what stupid thing I did? Yup. You guessed it. Hello? How can the pot be hot and the cord melted? Dumb ass here. The slow cooker was not plugged in because the cord was under the pot. Dumb dumb dumb.
These are just a few of the reasons I am starting to think that Idiot and I were separated at birth.