Pwned By A Two Year Old.
My neighbors are total Californians, meaning their family's been here probably for the past two hundred and some years. They're from one of the old reasonably well known familias, down to having an adobe remaining that's a historic landmark.
This is where they crack me up. They bought and renovated the house next to us, returning the old dust bowl relic to something pretty and sound. New wood floors, new windows, new roof, central air and heating, paint, new septic tank, the works.
Yet they spend a good seventy five percent of their time between the garage, back veranda, and in the drive between our properties. I snickered at them and said they were so California. What? In those old adobes, once they started heating up, you spent the day and evening in the much cooler courtyard. The cooking was done out there, the wash (there was usually a small well in the middle of the courtyard), and everyone chilled out while waiting for the heat to pass.
Which got a lot of laughing, because sure enough, both parents spent most of their summers growing up at the grandparents adobes. Anyhow, it does save a lot on electricity and keeps the house clean when their grandkids show up.
Well, sure enough, they had a batch of the littles over last weekend, including this curly haired dolly of a two year old that defined OMGCUTE. She was loose on the drive, usually playing with my dog.
Well, Lucky conked out, and here came Ben and the rest of the flock to see what was going on over there. Little Miss was staring at the BIG BIRDS. She went right up to the fence to gawk. My toulies cooed and nattered at her, and little girl was all happy squeals.
Then?
Ben.
He marched up, stuck his head through the fence and HAUNKED at her importantly.
She screeched and SMACKED his beak.
He flailed, outraged and his head briefly stuck as he flapped and tried to get the hell out of there. Finally, he figured it out (physics is not his strong suit), and tried to charge her.
WHAM. Right into the fence. The little girl had run to her mother by then, who wasn't sure of the protocol for dealing with the neighbors obnoxious gander. Anyhow, I was laughing my ass off. My neighbor cackled and grabbed her broom, which sent Ben running for the front part of the yard, howling. (Brooms and mops are DA DEVIL, you don't even have to whack him with them.)
Anyhow, we found a little kiddy-broom for the little one, but she still hasn't quite connected it as being a goose-devil. She shoves the bristles into the fence and the dog gnaws on them for her. Eh, she'll figure it out.
This is where they crack me up. They bought and renovated the house next to us, returning the old dust bowl relic to something pretty and sound. New wood floors, new windows, new roof, central air and heating, paint, new septic tank, the works.
Yet they spend a good seventy five percent of their time between the garage, back veranda, and in the drive between our properties. I snickered at them and said they were so California. What? In those old adobes, once they started heating up, you spent the day and evening in the much cooler courtyard. The cooking was done out there, the wash (there was usually a small well in the middle of the courtyard), and everyone chilled out while waiting for the heat to pass.
Which got a lot of laughing, because sure enough, both parents spent most of their summers growing up at the grandparents adobes. Anyhow, it does save a lot on electricity and keeps the house clean when their grandkids show up.
Well, sure enough, they had a batch of the littles over last weekend, including this curly haired dolly of a two year old that defined OMGCUTE. She was loose on the drive, usually playing with my dog.
Well, Lucky conked out, and here came Ben and the rest of the flock to see what was going on over there. Little Miss was staring at the BIG BIRDS. She went right up to the fence to gawk. My toulies cooed and nattered at her, and little girl was all happy squeals.
Then?
Ben.
He marched up, stuck his head through the fence and HAUNKED at her importantly.
She screeched and SMACKED his beak.
He flailed, outraged and his head briefly stuck as he flapped and tried to get the hell out of there. Finally, he figured it out (physics is not his strong suit), and tried to charge her.
WHAM. Right into the fence. The little girl had run to her mother by then, who wasn't sure of the protocol for dealing with the neighbors obnoxious gander. Anyhow, I was laughing my ass off. My neighbor cackled and grabbed her broom, which sent Ben running for the front part of the yard, howling. (Brooms and mops are DA DEVIL, you don't even have to whack him with them.)
Anyhow, we found a little kiddy-broom for the little one, but she still hasn't quite connected it as being a goose-devil. She shoves the bristles into the fence and the dog gnaws on them for her. Eh, she'll figure it out.