I'm in the car and my brother, sitting behind me, keeps creeping on me with his tortoise.
"Hi tortoise," I say to it.
"Rawr," he replies. " Meow. Woof. Woof. Hiss."
"Dallin," I tell him, " I think your tortoise has identity crisis."
"No, he's just good at impressions," Dallin replies, then continuing where he left off, "Cow. Cow."
In the midst of all this, Dallin accidentally drops his tortoise.
"Baa. Help me."
Car trips with Dallin are never boring.
"Hi tortoise," I say to it.
"Rawr," he replies. " Meow. Woof. Woof. Hiss."
"Dallin," I tell him, " I think your tortoise has identity crisis."
"No, he's just good at impressions," Dallin replies, then continuing where he left off, "Cow. Cow."
In the midst of all this, Dallin accidentally drops his tortoise.
"Baa. Help me."
Car trips with Dallin are never boring.
Then later this same day I'm asked if I would like to join my mom and grandma in a run to Costco to pick up a watermelon. Shopping with those two is like spending an afternoon with two comedians on laughing gas. And I'm not about to miss out on that.
Though, knowing our luck, perhaps we shouldn't have been so surprised, we were still disappointed to find that Costco was clean out of watermelons.
Grandma decides to ask if they have any more in the back somewhere, and for once, we're in luck. A shipment just arrived and they hadn't yet unloaded them from the truck. They'd be happy to bring one out for us.
"But what if it's not ripe enough? We've got to thunk them to check," says Mom after the kind Costco employee has gone to fetch our watermelon.
When our watermelon arrives, Mom gives it a good knock while Grandma and I wait for its interpretation.
"It's not quite ripe enough," says Mom.
She's told me how the thunk method works, but she's the expert.
We debate whether or not to put it back. "We could ask them if we could go back and thunk the watermelons."
Dallin gives her a look and suggests we not.
In mock reply, Mom lowers her glasses to the tip of her nose and looking rather like professor McGonigal, proceeds to enact her request, "Excuse me, I'm getting my PHD in the resonate tonal qualities of watermelon and was wondering if I could thunk your watermelons."
Though, knowing our luck, perhaps we shouldn't have been so surprised, we were still disappointed to find that Costco was clean out of watermelons.
Grandma decides to ask if they have any more in the back somewhere, and for once, we're in luck. A shipment just arrived and they hadn't yet unloaded them from the truck. They'd be happy to bring one out for us.
"But what if it's not ripe enough? We've got to thunk them to check," says Mom after the kind Costco employee has gone to fetch our watermelon.
When our watermelon arrives, Mom gives it a good knock while Grandma and I wait for its interpretation.
"It's not quite ripe enough," says Mom.
She's told me how the thunk method works, but she's the expert.
We debate whether or not to put it back. "We could ask them if we could go back and thunk the watermelons."
Dallin gives her a look and suggests we not.
In mock reply, Mom lowers her glasses to the tip of her nose and looking rather like professor McGonigal, proceeds to enact her request, "Excuse me, I'm getting my PHD in the resonate tonal qualities of watermelon and was wondering if I could thunk your watermelons."
Dallin requests to hide in the car.
We were cracking up for a solid five minutes.
In the end, we did ask if we could go back to thunk the watermelons in order to compare their ripeness, but were told that we could not go back to the unloading area, and not just because of our seemingly absurd request.
After all that, we just had to keep the watermelon.
By tomorrow when we cut it up we'll know whether it is in fact not quite ripe. I'll let you know. But I'll say this, the thunk method: it works. And Mom's usually right.
Either way, it was worth the laughs.
We were cracking up for a solid five minutes.
In the end, we did ask if we could go back to thunk the watermelons in order to compare their ripeness, but were told that we could not go back to the unloading area, and not just because of our seemingly absurd request.
After all that, we just had to keep the watermelon.
By tomorrow when we cut it up we'll know whether it is in fact not quite ripe. I'll let you know. But I'll say this, the thunk method: it works. And Mom's usually right.
Either way, it was worth the laughs.
Candidly,
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