In his defense, my bike had a flat tire. (That was his defense. It is in no way, shape or form, supported by me.) Obviously, if the tire is flat the bike shall then be rendered unusable, right? And he had been in the process of cleaning out the garage, which was why there were cans of garbage at the end of the driveway beckoning the homeless to sift through and the creepy guy did take that stupid stainless steel kitchen sink that isn't worth a dime so he kind of deserved something good, right?
Which leads us to the fun little child cart that the bike used to pull. The cart that Cletus the Used to be Fetus LOVES to ride in. The cart that Big V was smart enough to save....
And so Big V set out to do something about it... something about the fury in my eyes encouraged him to drive to 867 different stores hoping they sold just the one part he needed. Which they didn't.
He decided to fabricate something himself. Which worked fine down the three feet of driveway, but not so well when he placed Cletus inside the cart and set to pedaling on the street. Clunk! Down went the cart. Lucky for us no cars were on the street at the time and it didn't take long for Big V to swoop on back around and pull the child to safety.
With arms crossed and foot tapping I told V I wasn't exactly thrilled that he gave my bike away and I also didn't trust whatever sort of knotted rope contraption he was attempting to pull my son with and I strongly suggested he try to find something else to occupy his time.
A few minutes later I looked outside and saw he was hacking down the tree in our front yard with a hand saw.
|Note the branch he hoped to leave by the curb for the city to pick up.|