So, I'm having cohort bonding night at my house tonight. We're having a bonfire in my backyard. This requires the digging of a fire pit, which my mother decided had to happen last night, in the dark, after I got home.

Me: Can't I just do it when I get home tomorrow... it'll be light then.
Mom: I won't be around to help you... what if you don't get it done?
Me: But it'll be light then...
Mom: Oh, let's just do it tonight... it won't take very long.
Me: Fine...

Sure enough, it didn't take very long. After a half hour, we had the hole dug, the roots clipped from it, and I was back inside trying to make a quick post about the insanity of my mother before going to bed. Only, I couldn't get a dial tone. No big, as our lines have gone out before, thanks to backyard critters. I tell mom to check her line. It, too, is out. Suddenly, we recall that one of the "roots" in the fire pit was rather hard to clip. But phone lines are strung from poles, right? I walk back out to the pit, sure that we're being paranoid. There, on top of the mound of dirt, still looking like a damn root, is a six inch section of telephone cable.

Not only is our telephone cable not strung from a pole, it is buried less than a foot deep in our back yard. It also looks like a root, at least by flashlight. My mother called the uncle to see if he had any knowledge of how much this would cost to fix (I have a cell phone -- she didn't use ESP to call him). But we are laughing so hard that the first question out of his mouth, upon hearing her tale is, "have you two been drinking?" Sadly, the entire episode took place with nary a drop imbibed. Although afterward, we did each have half a glass of wine, so that we might be able to retroactively explain our idiocy: "we were drinking last night."

May I just remind everyone that I was the one who said, "can't I do this tomorrow, when it's light out?" Now I have to dig a new pit today, anyway.