My father and I sat and had a long talk about the business yesterday. Interesting.
Me: Well.
Father: {shrugs his shoulders while trying to hide a grin.}
Me: {tapping my foot}
Me: {drumming my fingers on the table}
Father: {puts palms up in the air, shakes his head, then hides his mouth with one hand.}
I gave an exasperated sigh, shook my head and left the room before he could see the twinkle in my eyes.
That's the extent of the conversation we had about the 'guest post'. He followed me into the kitchen and told me I write good. Told my sister I'm a chip off the old block. As if that will excuse any more pranks he has up his sleeve. Somehow, I'd forgotten just where my sister gets her sense of humor. I failed to foresee this possibility.
I've been working on some guidelines for him. Today, he told me that he'd come up with something for me. Huuuuh, I don't know. I don't think I will announce when he is guest blogging anymore. I'll just post it after I see it. That way, if I get two or three solved crytograms as his post, I can leave it on my computer. Sometimes, it's hard to keep one step ahead of him, and come to think of it, my sister. I grew up with gullible written on my forehead.
I am the oldest, hence I shouldn't be falling for these little pranks of theirs. I may have posted on this very subject before, somewhere, somewhen. I keep telling myself, "I won't fall for their tricks again." A week, two weeks, sometimes a month goes by. Wham. There goes Millie's forehead again. Gullible must be painted in neon colors and it just gets to be too much for them to resist.
That's the only explanation I can think of. The younger ones also do this on a smaller scale. So far, I've managed to discourage them at least. Now, they all know how to read. It might get to be a tad difficult to keep their shenanigans in check.
I will see if my father is sufficiently recovered from his bout of laughter over the past day or so. Maybe I will get a decent blog post from him. I should strike while the guilt is thick. Yes, that is exactly what I'll do. {leaving to get a pack of the 'you know what' while the getting is good.}