For those of you within my age range, some of you may recall Gak; that marvelously gooey, gummy substance available in a variety of colors throughout our childhood. The elite Gak altered colors in the sun. My younger sister’s ambition subsisted in acquiring color-changing Gak. Our dad asserted his opposition to the goo procurement. His argument pivoted on the certainty that should she purchase Gak, it would inevitably terminate in the carpet or a pocket or a shoe or someone’s hair. In fairness, that was a reasonable theory. However, as our dad was daily occupied with work on the opposite side of town, it was a small feat to obtain the sought-after sun-transformed Gak. One night, the solitary income provider’s homecoming was devastated when he glimpsed the colorful container. Our dad repeated his frustration with the purchase to no avail. The Gak had already been initiated into the family.
Two days passed and the male champion of the family returned home, exhausted, to his three wild young children. Our dad snatched a beer and retired to the back porch in a feeble effort at relaxation. He colonized one of the plush deck chairs and leaned back, feet propped on surrounding wooden seating. He fastened his eyes shut and then released them to contentedly scan his yard. Within moments he soared to his feet, emitting fury, beer set down and forgotten. Fuming, he stalked onto the grass and stooped, scooping white substance into his hand. He furiously marched into the house, spewing anger and white matter. He screamed at my sister for misplaced Gak, quavering his goop-enveloped hand as he yelled. She wailed, tears crushing eyes, exclaiming her Gak was in the container. This was irrefutable when she produced said container, complete with glob. Dad, still bellowing, demanded to know what he was holding, if it wasn’t Gak.
Mom quietly explained that our dog had been taken to the vet earlier that day. She had an issue and had to be put on dog medication. The vet warned one of the side effects would be discolored excrement. Dad clutched dog poop in his hand.
1 comment:
ohh no jeff. that's awful.
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