the imminent arrival of the loonies

Crazy Lady arrives tonight, at 3 AM. This time my stepfather is coming too. The time of arrival is but one reason for their complete insanity. Below is an almost word-for-word transcript of the phone conversation I had with Crazy Lady when she called me at work yesterday.

CL: Is there a place in your grass where I can set up my ex pen so Birdie [Ed. note: one of Crazy Lady's 85 beagles] can dig in your lawn?
Totally Sane Me: Umm, Mom, I just paid a lot of money to my landscaper to finally have a front lawn for the first time. Plus, my lawn is brand new, it's on top of moss, and it's mostly on Georgia red clay, which if Birdie digs in with her white paws will never come out in a bath, ever.
CL: Well, fuck your landscaper. Birdie wants to dig.

Ok, never mind the complete lack of thought or consideration for my lawn or landscape. It's the landscaper we say "fuck" to. And if Birdie does get a speck of Georgia red clay on her, which trust me, will never come out, I will never hear the end of it, and it will all be my fault.

I called my stepfather, Rambo, who said his plan was to set the ex pen up in the driveway and walk Birdie around the neighborhood. And then he said, "Your mother is crazy."

After which time he asked me to find the best location to put the gut pile after he killed the deer that hang out in my front lawn....

I think he was joking. Sorta.