So, I had a very important updatey conversation with my dad last night about everyone’s favorite blog topic.
NO, not the missing balloon. He won’t talk about that anymore. He thinks the government took it. We’re not allowed to talk about that.
So, as you’ll all remember, a little over a month ago, my dad’s friend was waiting for the delivery of his helper mule. If you don’t remember, I’ve totally included the link above. You can click! There are animal photos, it’s really the best.
Since then, Helper Mule really has gotten quite a following. People want to know what’s going ON with Helper Mule! People want to know if he’s arrived! What he LOOKS like! If he’s…well…HELPFUL!
Luckily, we have my dad to answer all our burning questions.
I’ve been asking all month, on and off. Helper Mule was delayed for reasons unknown to anyone. Something about shipping? And difficulty getting a horse trailer? I assume because there’s no such thing as a Helper Mule trailer, that’s just way too specific of an item. sj was sure that the whole thing was a scam, perpetrated by the Russians. (She would, however, like you all to know she has nothing against Russians. It’s just that, in her head, the people who are scamming my dad’s friend HAPPEN to be Russian, not that ALL Russians are scammy.) I was kind of in agreement. I floated this theory past my dad, who ALSO thought maybe the Helper Mule thing was a scam. However, he thinks everyone’s in cahoots with everyone, so this really wasn’t much of a coup for me. I could tell him I saw an article that said the Mounties were working with the CIA on a spaceship to kill all the rhinoceroses and he’d be all, “Yep, sounds like them, the bastards.”
Also, Dad’s friend hired some guy to come over and build a Helper Mule barn and paddock but the guy never showed. I feel kind of bad for Dad’s friend. He’s getting screwed six ways to Sunday, here.
SO, a couple of days ago, Dad told me: HELPER MULE IS HERE!
Me: Any news on Helper Mule?
Dad: It’s here.
Me: WHAT? You didn’t START the conversation with that? I can’t believe you. It’s like I don’t even know you. Or YOU don’t even know ME.
Dad: Yeah, I’ll drive by sometime this week and check it out for you.
Me: Will you take PICTURES?
Dad: I’m not taking pictures of a mule.
Me: A HELPER mule. He’d probably help you focus it and everything. Pose for you. Helpfully. In his best light.
Dad: I’ll tell you what it looks like. That’s it.
Me: What if you ask your FRIEND to send you photos of the mule? Tell him the mule is famous on the internet. Tell him it has a twitter hashtag sometimes, and a whole blog post was written about it. I can’t imagine he wouldn’t send the photos THEN.
Dad: Um. I’m not telling him that. What the hell is a hashtag.
Me: It’s…this is not easy to explain. On Twitter, when you are talking about something, sometimes you put a pound sign in front of the topic? And then if people want, they can click that, and see who else is talking about it. And if ENOUGH people are talking about it, it’s one of the Trending Topics. So then you’re totally the most famous.
Me: I told you it’s really hard to explain.
Dad: I’m not telling him that.
So the next day…
Me: DID YOU SEE IT DID YOU SEE IT?
Dad: You know I’m watching basketball, right?
Me: HELPER MUUUUULE!
Dad: (sigh) Yes. It’s red. It’s supposedly red and white, but I didn’t see any white.
Me: Is its name Sal?
Dad: What the hell is wrong with you. Why would its name be Sal?
Me: Because of the Erie Canal Song, of course. If you have a mule and its name ISN’T Sal, you’re really missing an opportunity to sing it an awesome song.
Dad: I didn’t talk to him. I just drove by. There’s a red mule standing in a corral.
Me: See, also Sal rhymes with corral. Maybe it had white feet. Did you see its feet?
Dad: NO. I just DROVE BY. Its feet were in the mud.
Me: There’s already mud? That mule’s only been there one day. Sheesh. Is it the size of a horse or a donkey?
Dad: Between those two sizes.
Me: Did it look helpful?
Dad: It looked like a red mule, standing in a muddy corral.
Me: This isn’t a lot to go on. Go see it tomorrow. Take photos. THE INTERNET NEEDS TO KNOW.
Dad: I’m sending your uncle over to take photos. I told him about the hash browns.
Me: I…what? What hashbrowns? Are you going to buy him hashbrowns if he takes photos? That’s nice of you, everyone likes hashbrowns.
Dad: The internet hashbrowns so you can be famous about Helper Mules.
Me: ZOMG HASHTAGS.
Dad: That’s what I said.
Me: If the internet has hashbrowns, they’ve been holding back. I totally want some internet hashbrowns right now.
Me: So, what’s the scoop, old man?
Dad: I told you if you call me that, I’m hanging up. That’s very disrespectful of your loving father.
Me: FINE. What’s the mule news, youngish fella?
Dad: Not much better and it sounded forced. I saw the mule today.
Me: WHAT? You DID? Tell me ALL ABOUT IT.
Dad: Its name is Chief.
Me: What? “Got me a mule and its name is Chief?” THAT SUCKS. It doesn’t rhyme with ANYTHING in the song.
Dad: Well, don’t tell the mule that. It would hurt the mule’s feelings.
Me: Fine, I’ll keep that on the down low from the mule. I understand, I hate my name, too. Was it SO SO HELPFUL?
Dad: Wait, you hate your NAME? We GAVE you that name.
Me: That’s not the point. WAS THE MULE HELPFUL?
Me: What, um.
Dad: It won’t let anyone near it.
Dad: It’s like it’s not a tame mule. It’s like a wild mule. It’s scared of people.
Me: So, what, he goes out there to have the mule kneel down to let him ride it and…
Dad: It runs away.
Me: LIKE DUMBCAT!
Dad: Yeah. It’s about as helpful as Dumbcat, I think.
Me: Wait. Do you think it’s just being stubborn? Because aren’t mules supposed to be stubborn?
Dad: No. It’s scared. And not tamed. Or trained to be at all helpful.
Me: OH THIS IS THE WORST. He totally got scammed! I know we’ve been saying that but I was so hoping it wasn’t true. Then the mule showed up and I thought for sure it was all going to be alright!
Dad: Nope. It’s not even a LITTLE helpful. Also, its ears don’t point in the same direction, so it looks foolish. I mean, from what I could see. Mostly all I saw was it running away, and peeking out from behind the barn.
Me: ZOMG it is TOTALLY the Dumbcat of mules. So what now?
Dad: I don’t know. Maybe it’ll calm down. If not, he’s got to get rid of it. But he can’t.
Me: What? Why? He could call the Russians and demand a refund or something.
Dad: In a strange turn of events, his wife has fallen in love with the mule.
Dad: She said she wanted nothing to do with the mule, but now that it’s here, she gets up every morning early and tries to make friends with it and talks to it over the fence.
Me: OF COURSE SHE DOES. Anyone would! That’s what you DO with a scared animal. Much respect for his classy wife. OOH LISTEN.
Dad: Not much good ever came from you using that tone of voice.
Me: I am VERY GOOD with animals. They LOVE me. At the shelter, I was the BEST with the scared animals.
Me: So this SUMMER, I can totally Helper Mule Whisper that mule.
Dad: I don’t think that’s a thing.
Me: It will be once I do it. They might make a movie about me.
Dad: The Helper Mule Whisperer?
Me: YES. It will be a runaway smash hit and I will become SO SO FAMOUS. Also, smaller-picture-wise, I’ll get to see that mule.
Dad: You might be a little obsessed with this mule right now.
Me: IT IS RED AND I LIKE THINGS THAT ARE POTENTIALLY HELPFUL AND ALSO ANIMALS. You know that.
Dad: Yes, yes, I do. Oh, when I was there, I told him how famous his mule was.
Me: You DID? What did you say?
Dad: I told him you had a blog where you tell the internet all your personal business and someday it will get you murdered by a crazy, and also you’re on that Tweeter all the time, and that there are hashbrown tags.
Me: Getting better on the hashtags. I appreciate the effort. What did he say?
Dad: Not much. I think he was confused.
Me: It’s a little confusing. I’ll agree with that.
Dad: I also told him you said its name should be Sally, but he said that’s stupid since it’s a boy.
Me: SAL. Not Sally. “I got me a mule and its name is Sally, fifteen miles on the Erie Canally?” That doesn’t even make SENSE.
Dad: I also think he thought I was making most of how famous Helper Mule is on the internet up.
Me: Yeah. I sometimes think I am, too. It’s pretty far-fetched and too awesome to be real, most days. So, wait, did you take photos?
Dad: No. He said he was going to send me some. So I guess he’s ok that Helper Mule is famous on the internet. But I think his wife would be really mad if some crazy stalker killed Helper Mule because of your blog, so don’t tell anyone where Helper Mule lives.
Me: He wouldn’t get in a kidnapper’s van, anyway. TOO SCARED.
Dad: Good point. Smart move, Helper Mule.
Me: See? He’s already helpful. He’s helping internet stalkers not get their hands on an awesome thing. I KNEW HELPER MULE HAD A PURPOSE.
SO! Hopefully, if all goes well, we MIGHT have Helper Mule photos before the week is out. I’m keeping my fingers crossed. Also, I’m kind of hoping Helper Mule calms down. For two reasons: a., poor Dad’s friend, with his high hopes for being helped even though I’m not sure why he needs a mule, and now he got scammed! and b., if Helper Mule doesn’t shape up, I might not get to see him over the summer, and how sad would that be? The MOST sad, is how sad!
UPDATE UPDATE UPDAAAATE!
So late in the day today I got an email from Dad. No text, just THIS attached. He’s a man of few words when it comes to typing, my dad.
Ladies, gentlemen, and whatever YOU are, Ding Dong Joe, I bring you:
CHIEF THE HELPER MULE WHO EITHER HATES OR IS TOO SCARED TO HELP.
I think he looks worried. And sad. Doesn’t he have totally sad eyes? Also, he’s kind of knock-kneed. I don’t think his ears look so weird, though, DAD. I think you made that part up to be funny.
Let’s end on happier note: here is a painting of a mule being helpful and carrying a pooper scooper that I totally found on the interwebs for you because I LOVE YOU.