We climb into the car after far too long at Harbor Freight Tools.
Mark is telling us a story.
“That store is so funny! I was looking for marine grease, but they never stock things where you expect them to be. So I found the section that had all the grease and the oil, and I found a spot for marine grease. It was labeled and everything, but there was no marine grease! So I am thinking in my head of what other store might have the marine grease I need, and I am wandering about because we also need some blue tape and some boat clamps, and I end up in the fishing section. And there, in the midst of the fishing supplies was . . . marine grease! So I bought some.”
I buckle my seat-belt and turn to look at Mark, “Babe, that is an awesome story. Let me just write that down. I am not going to want to forget that. What was it, now? Marine grease? So funny that it wasn’t where you first looked! Tell that part again!”
Kallan leans forward in the car and wipes away an invisible tear. She sniffs, “That part about how you were finally reunited with your one true love Marine Grease? That was so touching!”
Mark pulls out of the parking lot, “Fine. Let me hear your story of Harbor Freight Tools, if it’s so much better.”
Kallan crows, “Ooooh, Daddy! You’re going DOWN.”
And so I tell the story of our visit to Harbor Freight Tools.
Starting with our Contest of Brute Booty Strength, which consisted of Maj and Kallan and I all shoving our butts into one another in triangular fashion until someone fell over.
Mark snorts, “No, you did not.”
Maj speaks up, “Yes, we did. And let me tell, you . . . that woman of yours has a powerful set of buttocks.”
Kallan pipes up, “And we bought magnesium to start a giant explosive fire like they did in that movie Journey to the Center of the Earth! BOOM! Who would have thought such awesomeness would only cost $2.50?”
I hurry to reassure Mark and explain, “Or, we are going to make tiny sparks and perhaps light a few twigs on fire.”
I continue, “And then there was Kallan playing little old lady over in the wheelchair section.”
Mark is surprised, “Harbor Freight Tools sells wheelchairs?”
“I know, right? Walkers, too. So then Kallan is being all grumpy old lady demanding a walker, only she says . . .”
I turn to Kallan, “Tell him, Kallan.”
Kallan is delighted to oblige, and in a raspy gruff voice, she says, “Kris, get your Momma a pusher. I need me a pusher, you understand? I’m getting old and tired and feeble and I need me some pusher. Be a good girl and get your Momma a pusher.”
Mark giggles, “How do you people not get kicked out of stores?”
I continue, “And then there was the Watch Pug . . . did you see him?”
“I saw the man pushing the dog around in a cart. What about him?”
“Maj was thinking that the store only allows working dogs, so we were trying to figure out what that pug’s job might be. We decided he is a squealing, snorting Watch Pug . . . he is pushed around in a shopping cart by his servant, ever alert for potential danger or evil-doers.”
Mark looks at me, “That is ridiculous.”
“I know! That’s what made it so hilarious! This hugely fat pug was riding in a red plastic shopping cart in a tool store for no good reason! He could barely turn around in the cart, and he was all snorting and squealing with excitement. Obviously, the pug is an undercover security guard of some sort.”
Maj giggles, “It was so obvious, Daddy.”
Kallan taps me on the shoulder, “Tell him about the man on the phone with the fun!”
I laugh, “You tell him, Kallan.”
“OK, Daddy? When we were waiting outside of the store for you when you were checking out, this man stopped right next to us. He was talking on his phone and he said . . . OK, hold on, Daddy. I have to get my voice low and happy.”
Kallan clears her throat and works to imitate the man who spoke, “He said . . . ‘Well, if you can do that, you sound like you are a lot of fun!’”
Kallan leans forward again and speaks in her regular little-girl voice, “There’s just no way that wasn’t inappropriate, don’t you think, Daddy?”
Snort!
Mark pulls onto the freeway, and I speak triumphantly, “But I have saved the best for last! We’re in the store, and I have run out of ways to entertain the girls. They start whining at me about how long you are taking and about how they are going to starve to death and how it is time for lunch and how we need to go hurry you up because otherwise we will all die in Harbor Freight Tools. They are getting louder and whinier and more obnoxious . . .”
Mark interrupts me, “What’s so awesome about that? They whine and moan all the time.”
“No, wait! So they are just being hideous, and this man walks by . . .”
Maj interrupts me, “Not the man with the fun, Daddy. Another man.”
“So the girls are being icky and loud, and this man walks by, and he is holding his phone to his ear, and he says, loud and clear . . .”
Kallan interjects, “You are not going to believe this, Daddy.”
I put my hand on Mark’s shoulder, “He says, ‘This is what happens when you don’t beat them enough.’”
Mark chokes with laughter, “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
Kallan leans forward again, “Can you imagine, Daddy? Who do you suppose he was talking to?”
Now I start laughing hysterically, “Really, Kallan? Kallan, he was talking to us. He was talking to you.”
Maj is incredulous, “No he was not! He was on his phone! You are lying!”
I speak through my laughter, “Oh, babe. He was soooo pretending to talk on his phone. He was talking to us.”
There is silence except for the sound of Mark and I giggling as the girls think about this development.
Kallan finally speaks, “Well, that is just the funniest and rudest thing ever.”
We all giggle happily.
And then Maj’s voice, “Daddy, tell us about how you found the marine grease again. That was an awesome story.”
Kallan giggles, “Yes, Daddy! Don’t skip the part about how you found it. And then bought it.”
I sigh happily, “Ooooh . . . that was a good story! Yes, babe! Tell it again!”
Hee hee!
