Preface:
In my back yard, there is a small wooded area. There is a treehouse back there (though not officially attached to any tree). The treehouse has a few stairs to climb, then a door and on the other side, a slide for my brood to use to entertain themselves for a solid 15 seconds per week. Close to the treehouse, is a hammock that I strung between two trees in order to entertain myself for the entire 15 seconds that my spawn are using the slide.
The cell phone I use never had reception in the house (because apparently it was once a lead-lined bunker).
I needed to make an important phone call late at night.
Story:
I was lying in the hammock around midnight one night staring at the two stars I can see in the city. I was on the phone. A few minutes into the call, I looked up and sharing the hammock with me was a raccoon as big as a Buick. I didn’t want to appear like a girly man on the phone call, so I didn’t say a word as I calmly stood to leave a warm spot and a giant ‘assdentation’ for the racoon to rest. I then noticed that my path leading back to my house, was blocked by the mamma ‘coon and her two babies. So, remaining very calm, I climbed into my son’s treehouse and shut the door behind me. At no point did I even pause in my conversation.
Now I am in my son’s treehouse when I heard the pappa ‘coon climb the steps to the door, so I put my entire body weight against the door while pappa scratched away at it for a few minutes. I could hear the kids playing at the bottom of the slide; screeching in utter delight as pappa cornered his prey. Did I mention that I am on the phone? I am trying to act all cool but my voice was beginning to expose that I am a raccoonophobe. Did I mention it was dark?
Approximately 10 minutes of pappa scratching on the door with little success, he decided to try an alternate route…the slide. Pappa kicked the children off the slide who were beginning to get bored that their dinner was not going to succumb without a fight. Pappa, not having studied physics, did not take into account the coefficient of friction between the plastic slide and fur. He kept coming up and then sliding back down, each time a tad more frustrated.
My pending demise fortified me and I began an ancient Native American animal-spirit-exorcism song, which, only coincidentally, sounded like a twelve year old girl screaming. Did I mention that raccoons are deaf?
Another 10 minutes of the raccoon walking up the slide about 2 feet and then sliding off at terminal velocity (funny in retrospect) coupled with my yelping, made for an interesting phone conversation. Did I mention it was an important call?
The babies were losing faith in their father as mamma scolded them for laughing at him. At some point it was obvious that the family was huddled together under the treehouse discussing their next moves. I think I heard pappa say “OK, you dress up as a lion and he will pass out from fear. Then we will eat like kings.”
While they were under me, I decided to make my great escape. I had it all planned out. I inched my way over to the slide, cellphone still in hand and at just the right moment, I launched myself down the slide. Approximately six inches into my escape, my rump became wedged in the slide and I was barred from forward progress. I stood up, ran down the slide and ran to the house. From the comforts of my porch, I could see the four pairs of glow-in-the-dark eyes looking at me saying “what a loser.”
Did I mention I live in the city?