So today I went trekking through Garagelandia… a remote and generally overlooked part of Balconia. I encountered numerous ruins. The remains of previous lives such as golf clubs and mountain bikes… And as I was sifting through the detritus, I felt the metal shelves begin to buckle. I found myself bracing my entire body weight against shelves piled high with ceramic flower pots, fertilizers, paint cans, boxes of extremely heavy (and expensive) tile, and at the tippety top of the mountain, a menacing electric hedge trimmer.
I couldn’t yell for help. There was no one to hear me, except maybe our eighty-year-old neighbor, Martha. Sweat dripped in my eyes. I felt my leather gardening gloves begin to slip. Stay calm. Evaluate my options:
1) Push with all my might and then run toward the open garage door, praying that a giant toothed blade doesn’t hit me in the back of the head as I flee.
2) Stand here, paralyzed, hoping James comes home early.
3) Use my super powers.
With all my strength I somehow channel the powers of Super Jake and bend the shelf back toward the wall, hoping it will hold long enough for me to sprint away from the forthcoming avalanche.
Fortunately, I was able to evacuate the area unharmed. It reminded me of watching Mulan with Jacob the last two weekends in a row. We’re both still impressed with the half naked Huns that emerge after an entire night spent buried under an avalanche of snow. They pop up like daisies.
I did not pop-up like a daisy. My heart was beating in my ears. I couldn’t catch my breath. I decided I better get some water and calm down.
That’s when I figured out one of the natives had locked me out of the house.
There was a benign looking bag of gardening “vine food” in the exact shape of this rusted hole. Little garage of horrors…