My father was so mad...
...like always, about something that I don't even remember, because he was always mad about something. This time it was the typical mad, so the first option is to yell at you to go clean your room. The house was pretty open, hardwood floors and well over 150 years old at that point. Sent to my room, i began something kind of like cleaning, definately not the best job a 10 year old could have done. My brothers and Joanne joined me, we sat talking and piddlin' around with the things on the floor. As i was cleaning underneath a small table at the foot of the bed i never slept in, i saw something mysterious. What was this thing? After everyone looked at it, we determined it was a hornets nest, stuck about an inch from the floor on the baseboard, long and slender. We got some hornet spray from under the kitchen sink. The kitchen was only a doorless doorway away, directly above my room on the tilty foundation of the house on 14th street. We coated that sucker in so much foamy-hornet-killing goodness that it looked like santas beard was stuck to my wall. We were waiting for it to take action when the hornets nest falls off the wall and rolls out from under the table. Cameron looks at it and and yells "That's not a hornets nest! That's a roasted weenie!" We all laughed and my father heard. He comes in, fuming mad, sees us all sitting around and yells "Y'all make me as mad as a wet hornet!"

BWAHHHHHHH.