Three Schleps In An Aztec

What was supposed to get done today didn't. What a schlep. It was my parental figures whom corrupted and misguided me into gambling up most of my day. My five bucks in the mail and another five for gray hair, allowed me to play for several hours. Of course we first had to find said destination. Driving merrily down the highway, windshield wipers swaying back and forth we chattered. Being 80% and dry might have been cause for concern, but my dad was driving.
"Damn it! That's the problem with this car. Blinker and wipers are on the same stick."
There was only one more tiny problem. Instead of ending up at said destination, (casino) we ended up at Summit Lake.
"Umm... dad? We just passed the Summit Lake store. You didn't take our exit."
"Whaaaat?" (it was a pretty drive)
Ten bucks turned into twenty four leaving me vindicated from loser hood, so all ended good.
With the appraiser coming in two days, one of those days donated to Maggot Foods, little time is left to obsess about cleaning. Carpet cleaning, intense bathroom scrubs, yard work, blah... blah... blah. However, I did make time for the mole, known better as the little bastardo. Yup, dining at my house shall come to an end (tonight) as the grim reaper (me) sips on wine.
Farkle