Da Yardman

One time, up at our hale in Mānoa Valley, my fadda stay working in our yard, cutting da grass an using da edging da kine around by da road. We had one pretty big yard, and wen he go for cut da grass, all he wen wea was cut-off shorts an slippahs an one lauhala hat.

Dis one time, he stay down by da edge of da road, workin’ away. Dis big ole Cadillac convertible, driven by dis rich, white-haired haole wahine, wen slow down near by wea he stay workin. She wen lean outsai da car an call over to my fadda.

“Excuse me, young man. Could you please tell me how much you charge to do yardwork?”

My fadda, witout blinkin his eye, well tell her in his best English, “Oh, I work for free here… but da lady of da house lets me sleep wit her!”

This entry was posted in Hanabata Days: Highly Pidgin. Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Da Yardman

  1. Lika says:

    As a Coach’s wife for decades; people use to always ask me how come da coach no dis or dat, put in dis kid or dat. I use to tellem’, “I don’t talk to him about his work, I just sleep wit him!” Dey would get all embarrassed and not bodda me afta dat.

    Malama pono.

  2. Mokihana says:

    ROFL!! Good ansah, Lika!

  3. George aka Babooze says:

    Wow, i goin’ hav to remembah dat wun an use em’ on all my German friends (in deah language of course). I can translate to German. Had me rollin’ Moki.

    Babooze m/

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