For Spring Break we’re staying in a ski-in, ski-out condo in a line of similar condos with hot tubs. That was one of my stipulations. If I was to come, I demanded a hot tub, as well as tractor trailer that cut fresh flowers. I’m not sure why I asked for the later – I had heard about it on movies. The owners of the condo didn’t comply.
Next door to us there are maybe two or three families with children ages seven to eleven. They are like small monsters. Every time we ski home these kids hide in the woods and throw snowballs like barbarians. Did you know that the Greeks created the word barbarian because they assumed all non-Greeks could say was “Bar bar bar bar”? That’s all these kids say. Yesterday in the hot tub I got hit with a piece of ice, and I said, “Kids, that was ice and I’m now bleeding!” and in unison they said, “Bar bar bar bar!” It was like those sea gulls from Finding Nemo. Terrifying.
Coming home today we were pelted with snowballs; as I tried to get into the house, one kid came too close and almost got inside the house. In the resulting scuffle, his goggles fell off. I locked the door after I pushed him out, then went on the deck and said, “I have your goggles. You will obey me!”
Ten minutes later, I saw some small mop heads floating near the stairwell. I dropped from the coach, to my knees and began to crawl to a blind spot where the kids couldn’t see me. They began counting down, as if to run out in a surprise attack, but before they got to three, I began to scream – nothing specific, no words, but like a tiger – and I pulled one of the kids off the stairs above the bannister, so to the others it looked like he had been taken by the Smoke Monster. I drug him screaming into the bathroom and held him above the toilet while fumbling with the flush handle.
The whole scene devolved from there. None of my fraternity brothers helped – eventually there were five boys and me in the bathroom. They put my foot in the toilet and flushed it. I got one of their arms in the sink with the water running. I really lost my handle on things when David Lee told them I was ticklish.
After a few minutes, they retreated – only to come again. And again. Like barbarians, all they could say was “Bar bar bar bar” and “Let me go home!” I never listened.