Mom! Erin was impersonating Chuck Norris and she killed the cat!

Shortly after I left for my run yesterday, my parents left too. Where they went I do not know, but they were gone until a few hours after I came back. Shortly after they arrived home, my internet “mysteriously” disconnected. Taking this as a subtle hint that my dad was pissed off at me, I decided to put as much distance between him and me for the second time that day. I suddenly had the brilliant idea of checking out the new dance store on Dewdney A) because I wanted to, and B) because I’m tired of borrowing Erin’s spandex for rugby and a dance store seemed like a logical place to look. So, I went for a walk. Of course, I forgot that everything in Maple Ridge closes agonizingly early, even on Saturdays, and I’m pretty sure they do it just to spite me. Disappointed, I returned home, and while raking up grass clippings with my mother, I bitched that my whole life is one conspiracy after another, the latest being that somebody does not want me to own my own spandex.

The moral of the story: Maple Ridge should burn in Hell.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Today my mother, sister and I set out once again. We went to one of the local malls, the one with the London Drugs in it because mother needed to pick up a few things, then I dragged the other two around that mall and the other one in search of spandex. This time I forgot that Maple Ridge is a God-fearing place, so heaven forbid anything should be open on Sundays. We went to the sports store in Haney Place, but they did not have anything worth mentioning. Severely disappointed this time, I think I have lost all hope that I will ever own my own pair of spandex. We continued on our way to a nearby farm, where we bought ten bags of steer manure for our gardens for ten dollars. If you have ever carried wet bags of cow shit around, you will know that it is both very heavy and…well, it smells like shit. Nevertheless, it made my mother happy, so instead of complaining I made really bad jokes about the pile of shit in the back of the van.

I am now typing this onto Word; technically my internet has not been reconnected yet. Shhhh, what dad doesn’t know cannot hurt him.