This excerpt was originally written prior to leaving on a ski trip in Feb. 2008 with Marco and William.
Act 1: It's about 930 and I realize that not all my stuff is going to fit into my medium-sized piece of luggage. So I call Diva to assess my skiing needs and determine where cuts can be made. I'm screwed - meaning: I'm driving out to "brokeback" right then to pick up a larger suitcase from the 2/3 portion of Wil-mar-isa. When I arrive at "Falcon Crest" manor, I find them holed up in "my" bedroom to conceal their packing activities from the dogs. If the pugs (princess, duchess, and winston) see the suitcases, they become traumatized because they know they are leaving. I'm pretty sure that when I dropped off my cat at my parent's house, she gave the the peace sign and the head nod. That's how we roll; I guess pugs are different.
Act 2: William next goes on a covert mission to get the 3rd suitcase and take it to the garage without the royal family of animals noticing. When he gets it out there, we realize that the front pouch is still locked with one of those tiny handy padlocks. The search for the magical key begins ... so while the two fairies run around, I stand at the counter and eat some chips and salsa. I get bored with standing there when Marco thinks he has found the key, so I saunter out the door to the garage to watch the drama unfold. Nope ....wrong tiny key. So what is the next logical step?
Well, I am instructed to hold the suitcase while Mary (William), cigarette dangling from mouth, tries to open it with some big tool and I dare to ask .........
Camisa: "What kind of tool is that?"
Mary: "(grunt) Pruning Shears. Summabitch. (grunt) Summabitch. (grunt)"
(Camisa has a contorted, confused, somewhat fearful face......and begins to wonders how cool it would be if her swiss Army knife had some sort of wire cutting device) So we continue to see to what limits we can push these pruning shears, then decide to scan the garage for another device. And for some reason I am just waiting on William's next idea AFTER he just tried to open a padlock, albeit small, with pruning shears. I don't think either one of us is a Mensa candidate right now.
Anticlimatic ending: We cut the material holding the metal ring that the padlock is attached to.....and I return home with my larger suitcase, feeling very smug.
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