Yesterday was Labor day. A day to set aside to rest from all the hard work we do all year round. Not the labor that sent tiny humans flying out of my loins. There is no holiday for that. No medal, no trophy, no cookie, no sticker, but maybe a pat on the back for that kind of "labor".
We were all hanging around, doing the stereotypical BBQ, except for the whole "108 degrees outside" messing it up. We just sent a sucker out to the grill to cook the food, while the rest of us basked in the cool air conditioning. Nobody is doing much, just staying cool, and some flies get let in. We have the fly zapper, not to be confused with fly swatter, since ours looks like a flimsy tennis racket with an electric chair conductor box attached. You press the red button, it becomes electrified and smokes the flies. The best 6 dollars can buy at a local tool shop. My dad decides to test out the voltage, AFTER it got dropped. He yelled and shot back in his chair. Wild eyed. Quite funny actually, with my mom laughing her head off, saying, "Is this the big one, Martha?" Lots of laughs. Middle brother decided he needs to test it. He says it's just a little zap. This is the same boy who growing up, got stitches and laughed. Insanely high pain tolerance. So if he says something doesn't hurt, never take his word for it.
Hubby tries to get the zapper to shock himself, but it's not working. He makes a big spectacle, hitting his hand on the metal frame, exclaiming "look, it doesn't work, it doesn't work." The family crowd has gathered, and we are all intensely watching. (Nothing was on TV.) All of a sudden, a crackle, flash of light and hubby jumps back. I guess it does work. Everyone is rolling with laughter at hubby and his insistence of how it didn't work. As if this wasn't enough fun, middle brother comes up with a great idea that one of them should touch it, and they all should hold hands to see if an electrical current will run through one person to the other. Yeah, he's the smart kid who used to jump off the roof onto mattresses to see if he could fly. Try to blow up a plastic cup in the backyard with lysol and a match. Ride his skateboard on his belly to go faster. Ambitious, that one. So Dumb and Dumber and Dumber and Dumbest are standing in line, holding hands, giggling nervously, waiting for the big zap. Hubby is the leader that is going to touch the zapper. Remember the whole part about the sucker standing in 108 degree heat grilling? Yeah, now he's the fly zapper toucher. There is a sacrificial lamb in every group, I just so happened to marry one. There is nothing funnier than a group of grown men, holding hands, in a line, waiting to get zapped. In the end, it only zapped hubby. Dummies.
Intellectual conversation? Board games? Reading books? Musical performances? Fly Zapper Experiments? Yeah, we rank right up their with Jed Clampett and the rest of the Beverly Hill Billies.