Here's the backstory. My hub rode my bike up to my folks to pick up the Moho for vacay. The next day we all go to Nanaimo and I go visit my bike which is ensconced in their garage and what do I see but newspaper with oil on it. Then my dad said "Your bike is leaking oil all over my garage." Then my husband says "I must have blown something on the ride up." So I wasn't all that happy, then I saw 'the smirk' on my dad's face, the evil I've gotten you again look. So this means war! The husband will be dealt with in due course for participating in the evil scheme.
This has progressed to various pictures being taken and Facebook war with mods being done to my bike and their motorhome.
So this was phase two of his joke.
So as I was leaving he had a hammer and was looking for the impact gun. I think it might be a sewing machine or lawn mower by the time I get home. Eeeek!
My pop has the wickedest sense of humour and we have had wars like this before. He short sheeted my bed when I was in my 20's, and I put my feet through the sheets, tripped and fell, it was compounded by the fact I had been out having a good time with my girlfriends.
I did settle the score a few weeks later with my mom's blessings. I short sheeted the bed, laid a trail of rice crispies up his side of the bed and in his pillow. I also took all his wool work socks and sewed them shut at different spots and the flies of his underwear. Yup, I learned from the master. The best part was it took weeks for him to go through all of his work socks!
However I have always been waiting for the shoe to drop because he hasn't forgotten my revenge and that was 25 years ago.