So the following story happened about 3 weeks ago. It is, however, just as relevant today as it was back then...
I worked the late shift at my high school Prom a few weeks ago which wasn't too bad because the "late" shift ended at 11pm. I was gone by 11:20, so life was good. As far as Prom goes, it was a nice outdoor dance at the Carnton Plantation in Franklin, TN. (When I looked up the Carnton Plantation online the first picture I saw was a graveyard. That was weird. I guess it is an old civil war historical site, with a few ghost stories from over the years and one during our Prom). Anyways, Prom is not the point of the story. It is the next day..
After a night of watching teenagers acting like adults (kind of)and witnessing how awkward some people are when they try and dance (reminding me of, well, me at every dance I ever went to) I spent the next morning in Church listening to the good word. It would have been the perfect Sunday to have the ever-so-random talk or testimony shared about the Apocalypse or aliens coming to Earth to fulfill ancient Old Testament prophecy as found in an unknown spin-off Da Vinci Code novel. Enough of this palaver, let me get to the good stuff.
So I'm driving home from Church, feeling all good inside, when I turn onto Murfreesboro Road and see some dude standing in the middle of the road covered in blood. My jaw dropped and I slowed the car to a slow creep as I passed this guy. He is wearing shorts and shoes, no shirt, and has blood all around his mouth and covering his chest. He was just walking down the road as if it was a normal day and I could do no more than stare. When I finally passed the guy, I looked forward (yes, I most definitely took my eyes off the road at 3 mph) and I see another guy in the road with three huge slashes across his chest and blood all over. "No way!" Thoughts were racing at this point. Did I just miss some epic throwdown between these two? Again, they are walking down the middle of the road in the middle of the day, and nobody else is really out. What's that? Oh sure, I could have rolled down the window and asked if they were okay...if I wanted to die! No way was I coming close to these guys. I locked the car doors, then pushed the lock button over and over just to make sure it was really locked. So I continue down the road in disbelief and finally I see what looked like a mom and her two kids walking down the road. Whew. Something normal. Except they weren't! I drove past and craned my neck in an effort to remind myself what normal people look like and all I saw were three more people whose shirts and faces were covered in dark red blood. WHAT IS GOING ON!?!? Man, I am not hanging around for this. I put the pedal to the metal and start flying down the road. And that is when it happens. A massive crowd of people walk out from around a building just up ahead and they are all torn up and covered in blood. Now, once or twice growing up I played those shoot-em-up video games where you are the last person left on Earth and everyone has turned to zombies, so my first thoughts are "How fast do I need to be going in order to run these zombies over? Is it safe to throw it in reverse after the first hit for a second pass, just to make sure they are dead? Do zombies actually die? I need firearms, machetes, medical supplies, water, food, a change of clothes and some mace - where is the nearest WalMart?" In the end I went untouched down the road, but feared that I would go home and give Rowan a hug, only to be bit in the neck and become one of them. But it was okay. I got home and everything was normal, except for a thousand questions that needed answering and a sure night of nightmares awaiting.
Fast forward to Mr. Stolle's 2nd period Spanish class on Monday morning.
"So how was everybody's weekend? Did anything awesome happen?" The class responds with their usual answers ("Well ya, but i can't talk about it in school", "I babysat for 15 hours", "I just listened to my ipod all weekend long.") Then I notice a girl who has a pretty bad sunburn. "So Alex, you obviously did something outside. What'd you do?" She answered, "Well, I rollerbladed for 5 hours on Saturday with my friends. It was a lot of fun. Oh, and then on Sunday, I got to be an extra in a movie." "Well that's cool. What movie?" "It's called Deathstar. It is going to be on the sci-fi channel." "Really, sci-fi? So like aliens or futuristic technology gone wrong?" "It was a zombie movie. All of us extras were cast as zombies, so we were covered in blood and fake scars." Cue the light bulb over my head. "So, where was this movie filmed, Alex?" "Oh, we were in La Vergne, right off of Murfreesboro Road."
I was driving through part of a movie set! Given that it was about noon, I imagine it was lunch time and the extras were heading off to lunch. You think my freak out was bad. Imagine the sandwich artist in Subway who looked uo to see zombies coming in his store!
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And in some unrelated news, Beth asked Mikayla last night if she new a word that rhymes with "mom". Her answer was quick, "Cow." Hmmmm. I'll take on the zombies any day.
17 May 2009
Confessions of a Mommy-aged Drama Queen
Today:
-Wake up early to pick up 2 girls I will be baby-sitting for the day
-Pack Mikayla in the car as well so the little girls feel more comfortable being around a stranger.
-Realize that one of the two is horribly sick, stare in horror as a sneeze leaves two giant snot trails going from the nose to her mid chest. Grimace and gag as I clean her up.
-Stare again in even more horror, as my own child vomits after witnessing said sneeze (she has been blessed with not only a gag reflex but one that actually makes her puke). In the car seat.
-Bring the girls home, realize that my home is not safe for a child that runs around jumping from one activity to the next to the next in 15 minutes and exhausts all my ideas for the day before the first hour is up.
-Leave my handsome man, Rowan and handsome hubby, Randy home and attempt the zoo with not one, not two, but three little girls. Two of whom are independent as all get out with a tendency to RUN.
-Trek it through the zoo, in jeans, thinking "oh my gosh, what am I doing? why do I baby-sit other people's kids? why did I wear jeans? If I keep them here long enough will they just sleep the rest of the day? ugh I do NOT want to go into the sorry excuse for a petting zoo. Where is my hand sanitizer? Exactly how much snot can one kid make? If I spray my house down with bleach will I still catch whatever she has? Again, why jeans? I'm not scared to show my ghostly legs albeit they are a little chicken-y.No one cares right?Oh, more snot... more sanitizer. Why do I always want soda?"
-Horror again as my daughter is slugged by another little girl. And the slug is immediately returned, fair and square I guess. I don't say anything. Mik gets beat up way to often and I figure one good punch for another is OK. This time. Especially given these particular circumstances. Alright I admit it, I was cheering her on. On the inside.
-Attempt to leave the zoo. For the twenty minutes it takes for me to find exit Mikayla screams. Loudly. The kind that make people stare to see just what kind of mother it is that is beating her child. Save it for Wal-Mart right?
-Realize that I am being followed by zoo security. Continue the trek to my car. Notice two unusually well dressed men near my car. With a black plastic tool case. My car door is ever so slightly ajar. UGH. I guess if you want cheerios and poopy diapers my car usually has one of the two but not much else. Notice more zoo security. Wheww... because I am being stared at by the men the ENTIRE time I pack all the children in the car. Oh, one kid threw the door open and marked up the car next to mine. Nice.
-Leave. Followed by cops. WHAT is going on? At this point I am convinced that they think I stole my own child and that they have a kidnapping on their hands. It was that bad. After three miles they left me alone. Mikayla was still screaming. All. The. Way. Home. "Mommy, I don't want to leave!" I was just positive people heard " I don't want to leave mommy! I don't want to leave mommy" and that was why I was followed, circled and scared to death by security and the metro police. I still haven't figured it out. And the men were weird- suits, Italian leather shoes (I made the Italian part up) and entirely out of place given we were at a ZOO not a boardroom. And WHY was my car door pulled open? CREEPY!
-Remember to use my blinkers, go five under the speed limit, and pray. I don't want to get pulled over. I don't know where the registration is or the updated insurance card...
-Arrive home. Two cranky four year olds, one incredibly amiable one year old, and myself all enter the house amidst a downpour. Electricity does go out. I am seriously wanting to plant all of the kids in front of the t.v. I never said I was a good baby-sitter did I?
-Desperately try to fill three hours. Did you know it only takes 15 minutes to make banana bread, even when I let two kids do their own individual bowls? Or that a movie can be re-started 25 + times and still not take up more than 20 minutes (curses on the dvd player that kids are almost understanding how to operate.) Painting- 15 minutes, dress up-0 minutes... wow.
-oh, well, the piano did get a beating. That lasted for the longest 20 minutes of the day. Excruciating.
I like kids. But I officially retire as Beth the Baby-Sitter. Beth's BabySitting Bonanza is officially closed for business. Well, I will still baby-sit the two 13 year old boys because we all know that they pretty much take care of themselves. Except for the one time one of them got arrested on my watch. But that's another drama for another day. And anyone who wants to trade with Randy and I so we can go on a date- but we get to baby sit first so we don't feel guilty for not ever getting to return the favor. I guess I'm not retired then. Just 'mostly.'
PS Yes, a child can make amazing amounts of snot. I have to give it to Mikayla, I think she only threw up twice. Good girl! And Rowan... Man I can just eat him up!! So cute and sweet and laid back (Just like Daddy!) Despite the day the girls had fun and that's pretty much what matters when all is said and done.
-Wake up early to pick up 2 girls I will be baby-sitting for the day
-Pack Mikayla in the car as well so the little girls feel more comfortable being around a stranger.
-Realize that one of the two is horribly sick, stare in horror as a sneeze leaves two giant snot trails going from the nose to her mid chest. Grimace and gag as I clean her up.
-Stare again in even more horror, as my own child vomits after witnessing said sneeze (she has been blessed with not only a gag reflex but one that actually makes her puke). In the car seat.
-Bring the girls home, realize that my home is not safe for a child that runs around jumping from one activity to the next to the next in 15 minutes and exhausts all my ideas for the day before the first hour is up.
-Leave my handsome man, Rowan and handsome hubby, Randy home and attempt the zoo with not one, not two, but three little girls. Two of whom are independent as all get out with a tendency to RUN.
-Trek it through the zoo, in jeans, thinking "oh my gosh, what am I doing? why do I baby-sit other people's kids? why did I wear jeans? If I keep them here long enough will they just sleep the rest of the day? ugh I do NOT want to go into the sorry excuse for a petting zoo. Where is my hand sanitizer? Exactly how much snot can one kid make? If I spray my house down with bleach will I still catch whatever she has? Again, why jeans? I'm not scared to show my ghostly legs albeit they are a little chicken-y.No one cares right?Oh, more snot... more sanitizer. Why do I always want soda?"
-Horror again as my daughter is slugged by another little girl. And the slug is immediately returned, fair and square I guess. I don't say anything. Mik gets beat up way to often and I figure one good punch for another is OK. This time. Especially given these particular circumstances. Alright I admit it, I was cheering her on. On the inside.
-Attempt to leave the zoo. For the twenty minutes it takes for me to find exit Mikayla screams. Loudly. The kind that make people stare to see just what kind of mother it is that is beating her child. Save it for Wal-Mart right?
-Realize that I am being followed by zoo security. Continue the trek to my car. Notice two unusually well dressed men near my car. With a black plastic tool case. My car door is ever so slightly ajar. UGH. I guess if you want cheerios and poopy diapers my car usually has one of the two but not much else. Notice more zoo security. Wheww... because I am being stared at by the men the ENTIRE time I pack all the children in the car. Oh, one kid threw the door open and marked up the car next to mine. Nice.
-Leave. Followed by cops. WHAT is going on? At this point I am convinced that they think I stole my own child and that they have a kidnapping on their hands. It was that bad. After three miles they left me alone. Mikayla was still screaming. All. The. Way. Home. "Mommy, I don't want to leave!" I was just positive people heard " I don't want to leave mommy! I don't want to leave mommy" and that was why I was followed, circled and scared to death by security and the metro police. I still haven't figured it out. And the men were weird- suits, Italian leather shoes (I made the Italian part up) and entirely out of place given we were at a ZOO not a boardroom. And WHY was my car door pulled open? CREEPY!
-Remember to use my blinkers, go five under the speed limit, and pray. I don't want to get pulled over. I don't know where the registration is or the updated insurance card...
-Arrive home. Two cranky four year olds, one incredibly amiable one year old, and myself all enter the house amidst a downpour. Electricity does go out. I am seriously wanting to plant all of the kids in front of the t.v. I never said I was a good baby-sitter did I?
-Desperately try to fill three hours. Did you know it only takes 15 minutes to make banana bread, even when I let two kids do their own individual bowls? Or that a movie can be re-started 25 + times and still not take up more than 20 minutes (curses on the dvd player that kids are almost understanding how to operate.) Painting- 15 minutes, dress up-0 minutes... wow.
-oh, well, the piano did get a beating. That lasted for the longest 20 minutes of the day. Excruciating.
I like kids. But I officially retire as Beth the Baby-Sitter. Beth's BabySitting Bonanza is officially closed for business. Well, I will still baby-sit the two 13 year old boys because we all know that they pretty much take care of themselves. Except for the one time one of them got arrested on my watch. But that's another drama for another day. And anyone who wants to trade with Randy and I so we can go on a date- but we get to baby sit first so we don't feel guilty for not ever getting to return the favor. I guess I'm not retired then. Just 'mostly.'
PS Yes, a child can make amazing amounts of snot. I have to give it to Mikayla, I think she only threw up twice. Good girl! And Rowan... Man I can just eat him up!! So cute and sweet and laid back (Just like Daddy!) Despite the day the girls had fun and that's pretty much what matters when all is said and done.
03 May 2009
A Cut Above
So for those that do not yet know, which is most of you, Beth has recently enrolled in cosmetology school. I decided it would be nice to let the cat out of the bag now that she has finished her first 100 hours.
At her 100 hour mark Beth decided to tread into deep water. Her sister Ilana and her husband Nick are visiting and Ilana was somewhat lovingly coerced into becoming Beth's first human cut (we don't count mannequins as official haircuts because they can't get a horrified look on their face when they hear the stylist say "Oops!"). I am proud to say that my wife did a great job, despite the pressure of Nick and me sitting back with a bag of popcorn and a camera awaiting a tragedy.
Without any further ado, I present Beth's first haircut:
Before
During
After
Innocent Bystander
At her 100 hour mark Beth decided to tread into deep water. Her sister Ilana and her husband Nick are visiting and Ilana was somewhat lovingly coerced into becoming Beth's first human cut (we don't count mannequins as official haircuts because they can't get a horrified look on their face when they hear the stylist say "Oops!"). I am proud to say that my wife did a great job, despite the pressure of Nick and me sitting back with a bag of popcorn and a camera awaiting a tragedy.
Without any further ado, I present Beth's first haircut:
Before
During
After
Innocent Bystander
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