It Seemed Like A Good Idea

One of the lessons my Mother taught me, besides to never stick my arm out of the window of a car, is that, if I ever want to kill anyone, an icicle is the perfect weapon. I don't know why my Mom thought this was an important thing to teach me, but I remember her mentioning it more than once, and even listing her reasons for her opinion. She said that icicles gave you options, since you could stab or bludgeon your victim, and that it would be impossible for the cops to catch you, since the evidence would melt. I mean, unless you told your kids about how you could kill someone with an icicle -- then they might have probable cause.

Icicles have been plentiful in Utah in the past few days, due to the large amount of snow, and fluctuating temperatures. By yesterday afternoon every house in the valley looked as if it had a cold and no tissue. My Mom's house had the lion's share. When I arrived I was amazed at the size and number hanging from her roof. I took a moment to worry about her storm gutters, and another to wonder if my Mom was planning a Christmas Day massacre, before I decided to grab a broom handle and knock the suckers down. Luckily, Luke was there to help.

We started out slowly, knocking down the smallest ones, taking turns and hitting lightly. After all, it is almost Christmas and I didn't want either of us to lose an eye. However, the excitement of the cracking ice got to both of us, and we got a little crazy...

Don't worry, he's fine. It isn't like he really needs to be able to do calculus anyway. We probably should have stopped after he got hit on the head. Yeah, we probably should have done that. I mean, if we had we might not have broken the cover to the porch lamp, and probably wouldn't have had to make an emergency trip to Home Depot to fix it before my Mom got home. But that's a story for another time. After all, if my Mom finds out about it she might kill me, and I know exactly the weapon she'll use.