My Idiot Son, The Only Thing Created In A Garage That Hasn’t Become A Wild Success

Published by Rhonda Taylor at January 25, 2016

Guest blog by Rhonda Taylor—not Calle Hack

My idiot son was created here.

There are some things in life I don’t understand. There are things you’re supposed to do that just add up. One plus one is two, right? If you follow the rules and the patterns then life is supposed to reward you with happiness and success. Just like my daddy told me: go to school, get a job, marry Ronnie, buy a house with a two-car garage, start a family. In the garage. And I did, but Ronnie Jr. turned out to be an idiot and now everything I thought to be true is a lie.

“Make sure you create those kids in that garage you buy with your house,” my father repeatedly told me as teenager. Birds and the bees talks are so awkward–especially with your father! I was like, “Mom! Tell Dad to stop telling me about sex stuff!” I was so young then. My mother would shoo my father out of the room and then sit me down and let me know he was coming from a good place. He only wanted me to have the life that he didn’t. See, my parents weren’t able to make me in a garage and that’s why I turned out to be a dud. I always felt bad that I couldn’t be the scientifically created X chromosome they wanted me to be. They told me that all good things start in garages. Baby Jesus. Apple. Microsoft. Disney. Home brewed beer. All of these creations were made first in the mind and then in garages.

“It only makes sense,” my father told me, “Do for your family what I couldn’t for mine. Start a family in the garage, make a success happen.”  The American Dream takes hard work and there are clear steps to follow and they are all done in a garage. It made sense.

So when Ronnie and I decided we wanted to start a family, I knew the only way our little one would have a chance in the world was to be created in the garage. So that’s what we did. But our creation turned out to be a dumdum and I have no one but myself to blame. And I don’t know what the world even means anymore. Nothing makes sense. He’s just so dumb.

I’m not sure where I went wrong. I did everything Mom and Daddy said I should do in life. But this little idiot has now ruined everything. He won’t listen to me or Ronnie Sr. ever. He almost burned down the garage he was created in one night when he was messing around with some fireworks he bought from God-knows-who. I had to quit my job so I could keep a more watchful eye on the son of a dummy. Without my income coming to the family we may just lose the house we worked so hard to buy. Ronnie Sr. and I haven’t shared a bed in years. We’re nervous if we touch each other we might create another dipshit. No one ever tells you that stupid things get created in garages, too. No one ever said, “Sure, Rhonda, you may have done everything on that list of things in life that people told you to, but sometimes things just still don’t work out how you want them and you end up with real idiot of a son.” Sometimes, one plus one makes Ronnie Jr.–a big fat zero.

Jesus, that boy is just such a dumdum.

Rhonda Taylor has always known deep down that garages are for motor vehicles and garbage only and for the sake of future generations will burn hers to the ground.