Two posts ago I wrote about The Viking’s Stupid and it’s still affecting our lives. His life more than mine but, since I’m in the general vicinity, I’m aware. And then this happened.
It started around 11:00 in the morning with the usual shouts and curses. I let him alone for awhile but when it didn’t burn itself out, I told him to come in for a coffee. Not that I wanted a cranky Viking in the house but in the interests of preventing heart-attacks I thought he needed to walk away for a bit.
After a 20-minute break, he went back to the garage and I went back to paperwork. It wasn’t long before the shouting and cursing began again. I could clearly hear every single word he was yelling and that was with all the doors and windows closed. I went out to offer any assistance I might be capable of and was told, amidst all the cursing, that there ‘wasn’t a fucking thing I could help with’, punctuated by 3 thrown tools – not in my direction, just so you know. Okay. I avoided eye contact and slowly backed out of the garage.
I wasn’t back in the house 5 minutes before the swearing and cursing spilled out of the garage. Shortly after that something flew past the window. “What in the ever-loving fuck?! Was that an office chair?!”
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It was.
It was followed quickly by 2 ATV tires and a Rubber Maid tote. The office chair didn’t seem pathetic enough, so he gave it a kick, picked it up and bashed it several times on the ground until it was in two pieces. He’d lost the ability to form words by this point and had resorted to guttural howls and primal, yet man-ly, screams.
I watched from the window as he grabbed a large snow shovel and beat it against the cement until it exploded into tiny pieces. I added ‘Snow Shovel’ to my shopping list, right under ‘Office Chair’.
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He wasn’t done yet, though. An innocent bag of cans and bottles ready for the depot found itself soaring through the air to land in front of my car, followed quickly by a Weed Whacker*. He tried to kick it first but missed and nearly up-ended himself. Several other items, one of them quite large, was launched against the house. A deck chair was tossed and landed against the new fifth wheel trailer and that’s when I stepped in.
I threw open the back door, “THAT’S ENOUGH!! Get in here!”
He pulled his hair a couple of times while eloquently and loudly explaining his lack of space in the garage and vilifying the filthy ATV that covered the garage floor with mud.
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“For fucks-sake! Sit down. Here’s some water. Your throat must be raw.”
And it was.
“You keep this up and someone is going to call the cops!” I hissed.
Bing Bong!
“See?! That’s probably them now!”
And it was.
As soon as I opened the big door and saw them, my eyes rolled and my head tipped back. Of course! I couldn’t quite believe it and gave a little laugh. It was two female Officers who looked very concerned.
“Ma’am? Are you okay?” One said while she gently stepped into the house, forcing me to take a step back.
Sigh. “Yes. I am perfectly fine. He’s just having a hissy fit.”
“Are you in danger?”
“No. He’s only a danger to himself, snow shovels, weed whackers and office chairs.”
They went past me and into the kitchen where The Viking was busily ramming his feet into his shoes, trying to escape Consequences. I wanted to yell “Not so fast, motherfucker!! You deal with this!” but that might have been misconstrued as elevating the situation. Thankfully, I hadn’t completely lost my mind yet.
The second Officer said, “So what’s going on?” while the first Officer followed The Viking out to the garage. Divide and conquer I suppose. If she tazes him I hope I can watch.
“We run a business out of the garage and he’s out of room and the machine he’s working on is full of mud and he’s just really frustrated.”
“Does this happen often?”
“Once in a while but never at this level. He’s frustrated and has, apparently, the crazy ability to completely lose his shit. Who knew?”
I notice a movement behind the Officer. A massive fucking guy in a police uniform snuck in. “Holy FUCK!!” I actually said, “Another one?! Geezus!” And I started laughing. A little hysterically, if I’m honest. He arrived like a Ninja – I hadn’t heard him come through the front door. I wondered if the Police Service trains Ninja moves? Not out loud, course, because that would be weird.
“I’m going to have to bake cookies for the neighbours, aren’t I?”
The lady Cop smiled and nodded while the humungous guy glowered intimidation at me, not understanding that I’m not the one around here that needed his special gift. I’ve never seen such a big cop in my entire life. Honestly, he was the biggest guy of any type I’ve ever seen.
After several moments, during which I couldn’t take my eyes off the big guy, the other Officer came back in the house. “He’s just having a really bad day.” She said in a colossal understatement. “It’s fine now.”
I have no idea what was said in the garage, but it must have satisfied her because the three Officers left through the front door, single file, the giant last. It was then I saw the police cars parked down the block, not in front of the house. Christ! This is like an episode of COPS!
The Viking didn’t come in the house for two hours which was probably for the best because I was feeling a little murderous – a feeling that lasted for almost a week.
Junior stopped by a while later, stepping over the exploded snow shovel, around the broken office chair and side-stepping two ATV tires. He came in the house and said, “Sooooo, how was your day?”
*Added Weed Whacker to the shopping list under Office Chair and Snow Shovel.
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