Dumb Luck

Dumb Luck

“So, if we clean our rooms and bring our laundry down, without being asked, and then you go out and mow the lawn...” Jimmy started.

“Mow the lawn?” Ted asked.

“You know she’s gonna tell you to mow the lawn, you can just do it early, surprise her! Then if we eat whatever she makes for breakfast without complaining, even if it’s those yukky pancakes she likes to make.”

“Yuk.”

“I’ll clean the back room, also without her asking, by mid-morning she’ll be in such a good mood toward us, when we mention going to the carnival she’ll be happy to let us go!”

“That sounds like a plan for sure but ...”

“But what?”

"That's not how it works."

“What do you mean?”

“First of all, she’ll know we’re up to something if we start doing stuff before she tells us to. Then she’ll get suspicious and start wondering what it is. Then she’ll think of the worst things it might be and start either panicking, or getting angry. Before we can convince her we’re just being good, we’ll completely miss the carnival at the very least, if not the whole weekend.”

“Oh. Well, what would you do?”

“Nothing. I usually trust dumb luck. It usually works for me. Just be ourselves, be annoying and lazy, by lunch she’ll want to get rid of us.”

“Oh.”

Eleven thirty: “Ted you did a crappy job on the lawn, as usual, and Jim you still have to take the trash out of the back room. I have people coming over after lunch! Please have your lunch early and go somewhere!”

“Ah, there is a carnival uptown ...” Ted said.

“Great! Go! Don’t come back till after four!”

“How did you do that?” Jimmy asked.

“Dumb luck,” Ted said, smiling.