Remember the commercial where the two cutesy little squirrels show how conniving they can be when playing tire tag with on-coming vehicles. You know-the one where those two fluffy-tailed critters almost cause a driver to experience a cardiac episode while trying to avoid their erratic and spasmodic movements from one side of the road to the other, all in the span of a nanosecond.

Then, after making sure they scared the beejeebees out of the driver, they meet in the middle of the road, like politicians used to do, and enjoy a high-five while exchanging squirrely giggles.

Their roadway antics somewhat mimic a group of four-year-olds on the soccer field for the first time-running this way and that with no earthly idea of which way to go. Although those four-year-olds are learning how to play a sport they will soon master, squirrels seem to be born masters at playing their crafty game.

Living in a rural area that has more than its share of hickory and walnut trees guarantees our squirrel population multiplies exponentially. Throw in the rites of spring and the route from my house to the main road warrants a vehicle similar to one of those in that wild and wooly old movie Mad Max-Road Warrior.

Knowing all of the stuff that man-of-mine has stock-piled in his sheds, yes the plural is intended, I'm sure I could transform my little SUV into a formidable vehicle for making the trip to the highway less traumatic-for me, not the squirrels.

The hubby's bound to have something similar to a cowcatcher that I could attach to my front bumper. And, he probably kept the Nerf-ball bazooka that the sons had many moons ago. Speaking of moons, I bet I could take that old TV antenna tripod I saw behind the smokehouse and use it to set the bazooka up through the moon roof. YES.

I'm also thinking about changing my car's color from silver-gray to something in the coyote-taupe range. Maybe then, the squirrels would run in the opposite direction instead of racing at me. If not, I could activate the bazooka.

This afternoon just getting out of the driveway proved to be challenging. Three young squirrels were enjoying Ring around the Rosie and wouldn't get out of my path. Beeping the horn only prompted another round. It was as if they were determined to make me late for my meeting. Then, it dawned on me that those little varmints knew exactly what they were doing-just like the two rascals in the commercial. I actually think one of them shook his fist at me.

Yep. They are out for REVENGE. And, who wouldn't seek revenge on the guy who hangs a slinky over the birdfeeder pole and stoops so low as to slather it with grease? I bet they can even hear that man-of-mine laugh as he watches from the breakfast table when they take that leap from the boxwood to the feeder and slide off the homemade baffle he fashioned. Who knows, they might have even tapped into the email that first born son sent with plans for a squirrel launcher.

I'm not sure who threw the gauntlet down first but I'm fairly certain there won't be a truce anytime soon. Reckon there's any chance the hubby would just consider buying an extra bag of sunflower seeds every now and then? KNOTT MUCH.