Maj is doing the dishes.
RRRRRRRRRRRZZZRCGHCGCHGHHHRRRR
“Turn off the garbage disposal, Maj!”
RRRRRRRRRRRZZZRCGHCGCHGHHHRRRR
I lean to look into the kitchen to see Maj with her hands over her eyes, ducked down low and away from the kitchen sink.
RRRRRRRRRRRZZZRCGHCGCHGHHHRRRR
I yell, “Maj! Turn off the garbage disposal!”
She does not move.
RRRRRRRRRRRZZZRCGHCGCHGHHHRRRR
I stomp to the doorway, “Maj? MOVE. Turn it off.”
She backs up to the counter and reaches behind her with one hand, flailing blindly for the switch on the backsplash to the right of the sink.
RRRZZRCGH . . . silence.
Maj stands and stares at the sink, “You cannot expect me to do the dishes while under demon attack, Mother.”
“It’s probably a spoon, babe.”
Kallan comes bounding into the room, “Can I grind the dogs’ toenails?”
Maj leans into the sink, holding her hair back as she glares into the disposal, “Be gone, demon spoon!”
“Mom, I need that grindy-tool thing that is supposed to sandpaper off the dogs’ toenails. The dogs want manicures.”
“Mother, I am thinking we should just grind that spoon down the rest of the way, because bringing its evil back up from the sucking pipes of disposal is clearly bad news.”
“If I grind down the dogs’ toenails way hard, it smells like their feet are on fire. Where’s the grinder, Mom?”
“Seriously, Mother. No good can come of inviting that spoon back into our lives.”
“Mom, where is the grindy tool? I want to smell the foot-smoke!”
“So Mother, obviously this is a situation I should just walk away from and let someone else address. I am feeling as though I am going to be spooned some evil, and the best thing to do when you are threatened with spoonfuls of evil is to walk away.”
Kallan turns to her sister, “Demon spoon? Spoonfuls of evil? What are you talking about?”
Maj turns to her sister, “Foot smoke? Toe grinding? Dog manicures? What are you talking about?”
They stare at one another.
I point to the drawer where we keep the dogs’ leashes and brushes, “Kallan, I’m pretty sure the grinder tool is in that drawer, but Persie hates that tool. The buzzing scares her, so why don’t you stick with Jack? Jack likes buzzy manicures.”
Kallan leans to grab one of the Labrador’s feet, “But look! Persie needs her toenails trimmed!”
“Kallan, there is no way Persie is going to let you grind her toenails. Do Jack’s feet instead.”
Jack the terrier jumps in happy anticipation when he sees the grinder, and Kallan laughs, “Come on, weird mandog of girly-ness. Let’s go pretty you up.” She turns to Persie, “You come too, so you can see it’s not so scary.”
Kallan and the dogs leave the room. I turn to Maj, “So you need to get the spoon out of the garbage disposal.”
“I KNOW THAT YOU ARE KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW, MOTHER. I AM NOT REACHING INTO DEVIL GERM SLUDGE TO GET A DEMON SPOON. NO WAY.”
“Get a pair of rubber gloves and pull out the spoon.”
“AUGH!” She gets a pair of rubber gloves and pulls them on, “I can’t do it. I just know my hand is going to be ground off. I just know it. I am already short. I already get teased about being short. I DON’T WANT TO BE STUBBY MAJ!”
“Just reach your hand in and get the spoon.”
She lets out a small shriek, “AIIEEEE! I JUST KNOW THAT DEMON SPOON SHREDDINGS ARE GOING TO FLY UP AND SHARD ME IN THE EYEBALLS! I WILL BE EYEBALL SHARDED! I’D LIKE TO SEE YOU EXPLAIN EYEBALL SPOON SHARDING TO THE DOCTOR, MOTHER.”
“Sadly, that will be impossible.”
She looks at me, and I continue, “What with you being blind and eyeball-sharded . . . you won’t be able to see my genius as I explain about how you fell and were eyeball-impaled on an improperly placed set of heirloom steel chopsticks.”
Maj stares at me, “I will still be able to HEAR you, Mother. I will hear you and I will dispute these chopstick lies.”
“Your word against mine, Maj.”
“Mother, you are impossible.” She reaches into the garbage disposal and pulls out the spoon, which is mangled beyond usage, and holds it up in the air, “Look at that . . . this spoon is dead as a dead thing. It appears the real evil isn’t the spoon but the garbage disposal.”
She finishes up the last few dishes and comes to find me in the living room, “Mother, what if there are evil spirits trying to come up through the garbage disposal and kill us all, and every day they almost make it out, but then right at the moment when they are oozing up and planning their attack, someone keeps running the garbage disposal and chopping them into little flushable bits?”
“Feeling a little Halloweenish this evening, Maj?”
She giggles and runs off.
Kallan reappears, followed by a prancing fancy-toed Jack, “I finished Jack. I need Persie’s harness. And her leash. And a blanket.”
I point to where she might find those items, “Be careful trying to grind Persie’s toenails. She gets panicky and she will leap right over you to escape the noise.”
“Mom, I have everything under control.”
Kallan calls Persie into the kitchen, and I hear her sweet-talk the Labrador into the harness. I hear the click of the leash as she attaches it to the harness. I hear the loud buzzy noise of the grinder and then Kallan’s voice, “Go, Persie! GO!”
Go, Persie?
Hmmmm.
I sit and wait for what comes next.
I do not have to wait long. Across the slippery wooden floor comes a scrabbling wild-eyed Labrador, pulling a crazily giggling Kallan on a blanket behind her. Kallan has the dog’s leash in one hand and the buzzy toenail grinder in the other, “Go, Persie! GO!”
Persie runs to escape the terror, pulling the terror along with her wherever she goes.
Kallan laughs like a maniac as the dog whirls around and pulls her back the way they came, “This is way better than foot smoke! YAY!”
Sigh.
I sit back down on the couch, and Jack leaps up into my lap to snuggle, “OW OW OW OW OW! What is up with your feet, Jack?”
I flip him over and run my fingers along his toenails, several of which have been sharpened to stabbing points, “KALLAN! GET IN HERE!”
Kallan appears, grinder in hand, “What?”
“What did you do to Jack’s toes?”
She smiles, “He is a zombie terrier slasher! He needed paw weapons of anguish.”
“Obviously.”
“The whole bathroom upstairs smells like foot smoke, by the way. I’m sure Maj will mention it.”
Maj does mention it . . . “MOTHER! IT SMELLS LIKE KALLAN FORCED A DOG DOWN A GARBAGE DISPOSAL FEET FIRST UP HERE!”
Hee hee!
