And/or throw her back out…
When I was a kid, my friend Scooby (yes, the one who was just here this weekend. Miss our shenanigans? Do yourself a favor and click here,) had a knack of hiding in my front bushes at any time of the day or night. He’d wait for the opportune moment to pop up, pound on the windows and give my mother a heart attack (her chair sat right next to the window), therefore making her piss her pants or throw her back out (thankfully, she has a strong heart but a weak bladder after two 10 lb babies).
The master of suspense would also creep around the back of my house on a Saturday night, while I was watching movies downstairs and just stand in the light outside the double french doors and stare. My sister and I would scream bloody murder, therefore making my mother sprint like an Olympian to the basement from her slumber.
So what better way to spend a drunken Saturday afternoon when Scooby was visiting Nashville than to perform a surprise attack on my mom? It was a no-brainer in our book.
Full disclosure: The pictures below are staged reenactments. No mother was hurt during this photo shoot.
I’m proud to state that no bladders were emptied and all back muscles remained in tact during this scare.
Does that mean Scooby is losing his edge?
My mom sure hopes this is true.