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Saturday . April 26 . 2003 . 10:21am the great slip 'n' slide scam of 1985 It's raining like hell now, so let's hope the clouds wring themselves out so that tomorrow, we'll have blue skies, shining on me (us), nothing but blue skies do I (we) see. The bachelor party got home at 5am last night. From the one story I heard before Joe passed into a stuporous coma, they had tiptoed in, trying to be quiet and not wake anyone up. "Shhh, shhh..." Joe was saying...before proceeding to knock over the doggy gate with a huge bang, scaring Cooper so much that she yelped and peed on the floor. So the party ended with Joe mopping up a puddle of dog urine. Don't all good parties end like that? Rehearsal dinner tonight. We're having it at Sambucca's in deference to Joe's big Italian family, so I'll have to wear my eatin' dress--you know, the one with expansion panels. All my relatives have been arriving into town, and my parents have been running around like crazies trying to take them all out to dinner, pick them up at the airport, help them check into their hotels, etcetera. Today, in honor of the out-of-towners, I'm going to tell a story of deviousness involving my cousins and I, where the hapless victims were my aunt and my mom, duped by elementary school students. My cousins lived in a suburban pleasure palace. Well, no, not really, but that's what it seemed like to this city kid. Four bedrooms, a basement (with a ping pong table!), Nintendo, a front and a back yard, a swing set. This was all in Allentown, PA. We would go visit them about once every few months, and I would just love it, because they always had such better toys than I did. So one day, we wanted to play with the Slip 'n' Slide. (That's the big yellow landing strip that you hook up to your hose and flop on, preferably down a gradual incline, to get the worst grass burn of your life.) We were intent on this. We were determined to Slip 'n' Slide. Except that our plans were foiled by my aunt, who decided that it was too cold to Slip or Slide. Dejection ensued. I think I was the one who came up with the idea for the permission note. I figured that maybe my aunt would change her mind if my mom gave us permission to Slip 'n' Slide, and then we'd be in business. But I also knew that my mom would never give us permission if my aunt had already nixed the idea. So we had to come up with a plot. We had to get her signature on a permission note without her knowing what she was signing. So we pretended that we were starting an autograph club. We were collecting autographs for our scrapbook (so the story went), so could you please sign your name on this page? No, not there, near the bottom of the page. Yes! Great! Thanks, Ma! After we got the "autograph," we'd fill in the top of the page. I give Michelle and Beatrice permission to play on the Slip 'n' Slide. Signature below. It looked all above board. And it worked. I'm sure there was some puzzlement on my aunt's part about why my mom wrote a note as opposed to just, you know, telling her, but it didn't matter. The hose was unfurled, the yellow tarp was laid down, and we were soon wet and covered in grass bits. So that's the story of the great slip 'n' slide scam of 1985. And thus began the descent into my life of crime. OK, I have to go now. Tons of stuff to do today. We're getting married tomorrow! Wait, hold on, let me say that again: we're getting married tomorrow. Gah! xo Michelle Countdown to the wedding: 1 day Projected wedding weather: Mostly sunny, high 70°/ low 56° |
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