"Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing. " -Helen Keller

Friday, January 27, 2012


There are stories in our past that we each try to forget. Stories we try to pretend never happened. But, for you my friends, cause I love you and want to make you laugh, I'm going to tell you one of those I can't believe it's happening to me stories.

A number of years ago, about a year after Vic and I moved into the first house we bought together (ya know, the house featured in HouseBuyingFucknuttery), we had finally bought the riding lawn mower I'd been lusting after. Don't judge...when you have over and acre to mow, it does strange things to your desires. It was such a sweet looking lawn mower...red and shiny and it had a cup holder.

Friday finally came and I was up on my lawn mower taking care of the yard. It was just amazing how much faster I could finish mowing the lawn. I hadn't been out there long enough to even get a sun burn and I'd already finished the flat area around the house and I was headed up the hill so I could mow the upper part of the yard. I had completed two laps around the upper part of the yard and I heard the engine of a large truck in the distance. As I started the third lap around the yard, I had to make a detour around the swing set.

That detour did me in.

See, this was the first time I had mowed the yard with my beautiful new riding mower. I didn't quite have a handle on the turn radius of that beautiful red machine. As I rounded the slide, I turned a bit too sharply and clipped the bottom corner of the slide.

No, I didn't tear the slide off the swing set. It was nothing that simple. The wheel of the lawn mower hooked on the bottom edge of the slide and lifted it up out of the ground. That wouldn't have been too bad except the local yellow jacket gang had used that slide to disguise the entrance to their gang headquarters. Yup, I tore open the entrance to an underground beehive. The gang swarmed and went up my pants leg and under my shirt. I threw that bitch into park, jumped off my shiny red machine, and went tearing across the yard shaking my pants leg and flapping my shirt wildly. As I got near the house, I pulled the shirt up over my head. I figured I was safe. We lived way out in the country. Our neighbors were at work. And, dammit, the desperate need to get the bees out of my clothes overrode any sense of modesty.

I was wrong. I wasn't safe. Remember that large truck motor I heard. It was the motor of the UPS truck. And, you'll never guess whose house he was coming to...mine. That day will go down in Cruz family history ads the day I stripped for the UPS man. I bet the UPS guy didn't know he was going to get his very own peep show when he came to work that day.