You Stink!

            The following Saturday, I walk in the front door of our A-Frame after working all day, wearing a tired but genuine smile.
            Mom says, “Ishta! What in the world is that horrible smell?”
           I reply, “It’s probably me. Those stinkin’ dead chickens infect me with their grossness but it’s worth it on payday.  I’m gonna ride my motorcycle.”
             “Not until you clean up and wash that smell off. Oofta Mae!”
            Nina walks down the stairs and into the kitchen where I am talking to Mom. She says, “Ooh. I smell…something!” She looks at Mom and asks, “Are you boiling cabbage?”
             I’m indignant. “Never mind, Neen, the teen string bean queen!”
             “Well, excuse me for living, Mr. Crabby Appleton!”
             I know the best way to annoy her is to repeat what she says so I say, “Well, excuse me for living, Mr. Crabby Appleton!”
             “Stop mocking me Dane!”
             “Stop mocking me Dane!”
              She becomes angrier. “Mom! Tell Dana to stop mocking me!”
             “Mom! Tell Dana to stop mocking me!”
            Mom is stern but still loving when she responds. “Dane, you know we don’t allow any mocking in this house. Never have, never will!”
            “She started it by telling me that I smell like cabbage!”
            “No excuses. And you really need to take a shower sweetie. You smell like dead chickens!”
            “Ok. Ok. Fine.”