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The snake-haired lady
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There you have the stage set for what was about to happen. The worlds of the pious and the very-definitely-not were about to collide.

I was keeping an eye on things from my little window on the world and thought there might be some rock-throwing going on in the yard, so I went out into the garage to see what they were up to.

The garage has gotten a recent makeover, with a big bucket of old paint that contained something that smelled very much like kitty urine. Hubs is working on a re-coat with new paint. In the meantime, however, there are big pieces of cardboard lining the floor and tarps laid out to prevent spill damage.

The boys were in the garage, not throwing rocks, but fussing over who got to ride what scooter and whose bike. As I was making my way around my vehicle, I tripped, slamming into an old heavy piece of something that was just about as tall as me. I fell like an elephant on ice.

I don’t remember exactly what expletives spewed forth from my mouth, I just know that when I was finally able to draw air into my lungs again and rolled over, the three cousins were sitting like the proverbial monkeys — one with hands over his ears, one with hands over his mouth, and one with hands over his eyes. Sunnybuns and Haskell were staring at each other with mouths hangin’ open, not believing such words could come out of the woman who bakes really yummy chocolate chip cookies and lets them jump on furniture.

I managed to get on my hands and knees and got up, still muttering a few expletives, albeit minor ones.

I slowly bent over and picked up the various wheeled instruments, silently doling them out as the ashen-faced monkeys stared at the ground, unable to look me in the eye, no doubt for fear they’d turn to stone.

I turned to head back into the house when I tripped over a corner of the tarp and slammed my knuckles into the tail light of my ride. The unholiest of demons sprang forth from my body and exited through my mouth.

It must have reverberated through the whole neighborhood, because time literally stood still. I closed my eyes for a millisecond, chastising myself for my bad choice of words. “Owee Kazowee” just didn’t happen to spring to mind right then and there.

I went back into the house, silently mouthing more expletives, obviously wanting to not incur the wrath of God any further.

When the cousins’ mother arrived a short time later, she was bewildered to see them scrambling to get into her vehicle so quickly.

I explained what had happened, feeling very humble and apologetic. Fortunately she had the good grace to shake her head and laugh.

“Well,” I said, “if its any consolation, I think I may have literally scared the devil out of them!”

Now to just do the same for Sunnybuns and Haskell.

I’ve got my work cut out for me.