A Hatnappers Tale

I know that you will find this hard to believe but there’s a hatnapper holding Tom’s Giant’s hat captive. I received another call from the hatnapper today demanding payment or else the leather hat swims with the fishes in his pool. Cruel isn’t? What makes this story even more disturbing is I know who is torturing the hat. He is a family member. His demands are steep . . . an entire dollar. How can a brother be so cruel? Growing up with him, I should have seen it coming.

My brother, who is ten years older, loved practical jokes. When I was younger he made our basement into a mini house of horrors and charged me and my friends a nickel to scare us. The crazy thing was that we paid him, but then again I was only seven.

If you want to read about what he did to my braids then click here.

When Tom and I were dating, Tom worked with him. Tom had the habit of falling asleep in the truck on long rides. My brother hated that. They had a customer who was located in Huntington. That was at least an hour or so away without traffic. Tom fell asleep on the way and my brother took oily, left-over pizza paper (I know gross right. They didn’t clean out the truck from their lunch the day before.) and placed it where the family jewels are. Then he lit it. That’s right you read correctly. He lit it. There was lots of smoke and my brother had to open a window and look out to see where he was going because of the smoke. He then yelled, “Fire!” which woke Tom up. No damage done, but Tom never did fall asleep in the car again. Sometimes he wakes up though yelling, “Put it out! Put it out! – only kidding.

I would have to say as he gotten older, he has mellowed some. Now he’s just a hatnapper. I’ve already forgiven him, but I’m still not paying the ransom.

I love you Frenchie. You always make me smile.

© Nadine Zawacki 2010