Kids, I’m throwing away my useless diplomas (yes, that is plural because even though I was chronically “underemployed” with a BA in English, I just had to have more–I craved a steady diet of Ramen noodles and Derrida, I tell ya!) and embarking on a new career in cryptozoology.
A chance trip to the dollar store to help Son 2 get some back-to-school supplies yielded this happy result: a piece of genuine monster-attracting equipment!!! For less than a cup of coffee, I would be ready to commence work tracking down the mysterious and unknowable!
As soon as we got home, I yanked the package away from Son 2. Ignoring his tears and protests that “I thought that was for me”, I ripped that sucker open, already dreaming of my own Discovery Channel series pilot.
I expanded my asthma-weakened lungs and blew, expecting an awesome and terrifying roar to fill our home. Apparently, Bigfoot sounds like a giant duck. I never would have guessed.
I handed the call to Son 2 to see if his younger, more elastic lungs would be the key to producing a fearsome noise. He took a giant breath and blew into the mouthpiece. The resulting noise was a sad little half-quack.
Still not discouraged, we went out into the overgrown backyard and tried. And tried. And tried. So far, Bigfoot has resisted our calls, but this device has attracted at least one cat–and angered all of the neighbors.
* Of course, Derrida was rambling on about writing or something, not actual monsters. But, how cool would it be to have Bigfoot as a pet? (Well, if Harry and the Hendersons is any indication, it would certainly lead to costly home repairs.)