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I Hate Experts

So, in two short days, the Expert is heading back Down Under (I mean, literally. Australia….okay, gutter brains.)

Tonight, he was on his computer.  The kids were screaming, running circles around the kitchen and painting the walls with macaroni & cheese.  I had just walked in the door, and I had enough.

“Why don’t you get of that computer and get engaged?  You’re going to be gone for two weeks. Get a grip!” I scream, flailing some dishtowel or something.

He looks at me.  And then he starts laughing.  He says, in a gruff screaming voice: “Alright, Macho Man Meredith Savage!  You better get engaged, suckers!  You are a crappy father, get en-gaged!!”



Well, as you can imagine.  For the rest of the night, everything I said, he’d repeat back to me in the Macho Man Randy Savage Voice.

“Time to get out of the tub, kids!” I’d say.

You better get out of the tub, fools!  It’s time to work!  Get engaged!”

I hate Experts.

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