I Don't Do D.I.Y.

Earlier in the week, Ma made an appearance in the kitchen and sat at the table, making that "I'm going to make an announcement whether you like it or not" face. T.A. was asleep on the couch, snoring, her mouth hanging open, drool forming a thin line across her cheek. The child is still plague infested. That half her audience is in a Nyquil induced coma doesn't matter to Ma however, not when she has something to say. She'll have an entire conversation with you while you're sound asleep.

I glanced in her general direction, which was a mistake because once I made eye contact, she began, her hands folded neatly in her lap, an expression of determination on her face. "We've got to get this plumbing fixed," she said.

I fought the urge to say something profound like, "No shit Sherlock. When's your next case?"

"It's probably got something to do with us all being sick," she said.

I took a deep breath, let it out slowly.

"Can we borrow your truck to go to Lowe's this evening?" she asked.


"To buy SEWAGE PIPE to fix THE PLUMBING. It's only $8 a section and I've been thinking, it can't be THAT hard. All we have to do is dig up the old pipe and replace it with the new. It doesn't have to be glued or anything, it just fits together. I called the people that came time before last and got the man's supervisor and he said I just misunderstood what was on the paper he gave us last time. We don't have to go under the house.. just there at the corner of the porch."

I glanced over at Ma. "Just who is WE? You can't walk past the bedroom without falling, T.A. has the Black Plague and I can barely twist the top off a mayonnaise jar. If you think I'M going out there and replacing the sewage pipe, you've got another thing coming."

Well, I reckon that was the wrong thing to say because she got up, grabbed herself a Coke and stomped back to her bedroom. I thought that was the end of it. I was wrong.

Last night I got a wild hair up my butt and decided to rearrange the bedroom. Again. My toaster oven (for baking clay) was blocking the air conditioner. Between my hot flashes and sharing my room with a ginormous arctic puppy, I knew I was going to need it soon. My bedroom isn't very big, so halfway into swapping the dresser and the computer desk, I was temporarily trapped. Of course, that's when all hell broke loose.

Sammy was barking and running from room to room. Yoda was yapping, I heard someone stomping through the house, doors opening and slamming.

What the hell?

I climbed over my cedar chest, stepping on a piece of paper which slid across the carpet, almost forcing my unwilling body into the splits and ruining any chances of future child bearing (okay so, those days are probably over anyway, but you get the idea.) I fell into the door jam on the other side, stumbled over the laundry basket and into the living room, just in time to see Ma standing there, with no pants and the front door wide open.

I peeked over her shoulder to see what was going on while T.A. tried to corral dogs, cats and anything else that may have moved in when I wasn't paying attention. There in my front yard was Aunt Moses with her truck.

"What's she doing?" I asked.

"Unloading that stuff."

"What stuff?"

"Just go on," she said as she motioned for me to back away. I pushed my way past her to witness Aunt Moses dumping five huge sections of sewer pipe in my front yard.

"Hm," I said as I turned and went back to what I was doing.

I haven't seen Ma since. She's probably in there trying to figure out how she's going to make me play plumber. The thing is.. I don't care that she bought the pipe. It's her money, she can do what she wants with it. The problem is, replacing the pipe has nothing to do with why it's backing up and what good does it do to run out and buy stuff when you don't really know what you need or have anyone to fix it anyway?

Oh and the standing in the front door without pants thing? I don't even care anymore. She only does it to push my buttons.

At least it's Friday. Of course, that also means I can look forward to two fun filled days with Ma.


I hope ya'll have a good one. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!

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tiff said...


You're a saint, Mahala.

Mahala said...

Oh no.. a saint would not have the murderous thoughts that I have. Thank God for medication.

Alex said...

My husband is a DIY-er but also a DIYNY = Do It Yourself Next Year. So we'd have all those pipes out in our front yard for the next three seasons until they rusted. And then he'd buy new ones and actually do the work.

I have to admire the no-pants at the front door though. My husband doesn't do that... we leave it to the kids. Actually my son likes to pee on the bushes in the front yard and often invites me to pee with him. I'm waiting to see if my neighbors annoy me enough.

Mahala said...

People here are shocked when I admit that I've never peed outside. It's a huge topic of discussion here on a regular basis. I admire your kids' cajones lol.

kenju said...

OMG....your mama is a trip. I bet you wish she'd take one!

BetteJo said...

...so-o-o did she think if she bought the pipe you'd turn into a ditch digger/plumber?