The case of the stolen bells

Brad calls me at work and very earnestly asks - Camela do you know where Teddy's bells are?

Camela: um... no.. I guess they could be in my trunk, do you need me to go look?

B: yes, I think someone has stolen the bells.

C: (chuckling) Who would possibly steal his bells?

B: All I know is that they were in the garage and I went out there and picked them up and put them next to my golf clubs and now they're gone.

I went out in the pouring rain and looked in my trunk and as I suspected there were no bells. I IM'd him to let him know.

C: Sorry babe, no bells, did you look in Teddy's room?

B: I'm 100% positive that I put those bells next to my golf clubs.

C: mmm hmm. But humor me and check his room.

B: I looked in his room. They're not here. There were a lot of tweeners running around the neighborhood this weekend. (I didn't have the heart to mention that Teddy is a tweener. And still... who would want to steal the bells - there are a lot more interesting things in the garage than a non descript black case containing a xylophone.)

C: Maybe Jack took them outside and hid them under the swing set. (which is a problem since it's raining, but not out of the question given who Jack is)

B: I've already walked around the yard and checked the swing set and under the deck. Cam, I'm telling you, I really think someone stole those bells. I just have a bad feeling about it.

C: Look in the music room and Jack's room. But if someone stole them, then someone stole them and we've learned a valuable lesson on what we can and can not keep in the garage.

Later that day I'm telling my coworker Walter the story of the missing bells and how upset Brad is about this whole thing. Finding things is a skill and it comes easier to some than to others. I'm pretty good at it. Brad and Teddy both suck at it. I tell Walter the first place I'm going to look is in Brad's trunk - because that's the most likely place for it to be. (I've of course not yet mentioned this to Brad, I don't think he'd appreciate it in his current mood)

Brad comes home a few hours after I do and he walks in with... wait for it... the bells in his hand and a bit of a sheepish look on his face.

C: Where were they?

B: Uh. They were in my car, right behind my seat.

I just looked at him.

B: I think a mom from the neighborhood must have found them and returned them.

C: To the inside of the van?

B: They were being very conscientious.

Camela

Jackson to the rescue

Our neighbor just called because he needed to talk to us about Jackson - ut oh, this can't be good. Apparently his wife had inadvertently set off the fire alarm while he was out mowing the grass causing his kids came to the window and yell "FIRE!". He went inside and they had it all taken care of in short order. A few minutes later their doorbell rang and it was Jackson. He wanted to make sure everyone and everything was okay. All was well so Jack went back to his kick ball game and that was that. Our neighbor thought it was wonderful that there was such a mature and caring young man in the neighborhood. I'm not exactly sure who was masquerading as Jackson, but I'm glad the neighbor was happy.

We asked Jack what he would have done if everything hadn't been okay and he looked at us like we were stupid and said "I'd have run home as fast as I could to get you." Duh, I don't know what we were thinking...

How cute is that...

Brad wants to replace me

We had my old high school friend Sandy and her lovely husband and daughter (David and Maddie) over for a late afternoon cookout on Saturday. I have reconnected with Sandy via Facebook - just another reason to really like Facebook - and it was such a treat to have them over.

As a funny little tidbit - Sandy's life and mine have shared a few odd similarities. We both live on identically named streets, we both used to drive a Honda CR-X. Both our husbands share a totally out there love of comic books; though David seems to be more of a collector than Bradford, and Sandy and I both have a similar opinion of it - um... polite tolerance... maybe polite is the wrong word - we both were making fun of them in the same ways at the same moments.... It was kind of funny.

Now for the being replaced part. I have to come to terms with it. It's kind of hard to swallow, but it's something I must face. Bradford is trying to kill me. He and David headed up to the comic book store leaving Sandy and me at home to catch up and get dinner together. We're having barbecue chicken, grilled potatoes and onions and a caprese salad with warm from the oven strawberry shortcake for dessert. I will admit to being a little unsure of the chicken on the grill. Brad usually does it and has it down perfectly as to just when in the process to add the barbecue sauce. But, I'm confident I can do it, I grill things all summer long.

Sandy and I also seem to be on the same page with cooking... um... well that's all I'll say about that. I get Sandy making the salad and she does a fabulous job, it looks awesome. I cut up the potatoes and onions then start the grill. I get them all situated in their "bags" and put them and the chicken on the grill. I've dialed back the temps to a quarter on each of the burners and head back in to keep chatting. A few minutes later out of the corner of my eye I notice smoke - not that unusual, but enough for me to go and check it out.... wait.. what do I see?? Way too much smoke billowing around the edges of the grill... ut oh.

(please note: fish story ahead)
I go out, open the top and am faced with a wall of fire. I kid you not, it had to be five feet tall. I turn off all the burners while Sandy runs for the fire extinguisher. She kept one foot inside, her hand on the phone in case I couldn't battle back the flames. Within 10 seconds all sources of fuel (that I knew of) were gone and yet.. the flames - they grew higher... Nearing 10 feet by now. I could only stand by and watch until finally seemingly several hours later the flames began to dissipate. After catching our breath and thanking God for being safe and alive, I called Brad and told him to stop and get pizza on the way home as the chicken was nothing more than skinless black briquettes by then. After describing what happened, he very calmly said.... hmmm that's my fault, I haven't really cleaned the grease build up in a few seasons.

um.. "that's my fault..." uh.... HEY!!!! He almost killed me and our guest, not to mention nearly burning down our house - but here he is - calm, cool, and collected... oopsie - well I guess it won't need as much cleaning now, since it ALL FRIGGIN' BURNED OFF!!!!!. I'm not sure why he's trying to kill me, he must not love me anymore.

Camela

ps - today Brad spent the better part of the afternoon cleaning out the remaining icky and flammable stuff before he grilled tonight with... what.. wait.. oddly no issues.

"Yeah, no idea what that was about."

Jackson is taking a drama class and he absolutely loves it. In one recent class each student had to pretend to be a given food product. The class got to decide which food best fit each student and for Jackson they decided he needed to be a pop rock. Now if you know Jackson, you understand how perfect a choice this was. He spent the rest of the day "popping" around all over the place in glee.

The very next week, I'm sleeping in and Brad is going to take Jack to class when suddenly Brad comes up and wakes me telling me Jackson is hysterical at the prospect of having to go to drama. I go down to calm him and figure out what's the problem. After considerable time and many, many tears I figured out the issue was he was afraid of getting stage fright. Clearly someone had put the idea in his head and I had no doubt someone must have said something to him that made him freak. By the time I got him calmed down class was half over and we didn't go. I later talked to the teacher and the parent of another student who is one of Jack's best friends and pieced together that I had been right. The wrong mix of things were said to him and he had it in his mind that there were going to be thousands of people at the play and that he was going to get awful stage fright and he was just plain scared.

So the week goes along and I know I need to talk to him about it and get his opinion turned around about it because he's been having so much fun. I'm confident I'll be able to do it, but I know it'll take a few casual conversations to get him there. So I very delicately broach the subject..

So baby, do you think you'll be playing the pop rock game again at drama?

Oh Mom!!! They played the coolest game last week!!! It was SOOOO fun, I CAN'T WAIT TO PLAY IT!!!!

Oh um.. great. So you are looking forward to drama this week?

(looks at me as if I've just grown horns) Uh yeah!! Drama is totally fun!

um, baby, last week you got a bit upset about going....

(looks up at the ceiling thinking back to that morning, finally looks back to me) Yeah, no idea what that was about.

Uniquely and adorably you

Because of our problem with mice, I have been charged with rearranging the kitchen so that anything that could possibly be gotten into by mice is in the upper cabinets where it's much harder for them to get to. I've pulled about a million things out of the upper cabinets and the pantry and the lower cabinets and have clogged every free bit of counter space with everything from canned pineapple to bread to baking supplies.... which leads to my story. I came across the butterscotch chips that I recently bought which reminded me that I still haven't made the butterscotch peanut butter rice crispy treats that I bugged my high school friend Susan, who's now in Australia (I love Facebook) for the recipe for recently. I immediately decided I needed to make them right now. Susan's mom used to make them and then for years later I would make them but then totally forgot how. So instead of just googling it, I waited until I connected with Susan on FB and asked her and.... then she googled it.... yeah well.. what can I say to that. Anyway, I've got butterscotch chips and peanut butter melting on the stove as I'm alternately moving glasses from one cabinet to another and stirring the mixture when Brad walks in.


He stops and takes in the scene for a minute and then says "This is so uniquely and adorably you. Only you would pick now when there's literally no counter space at all - not one shred of horizontal space available to you... only you would pick this moment to decide to make something. Some day we'll be on a talk show and they'll ask me why I love you.... you better remember this, 'cause this is going to be my answer."

I love my husband,
Camela

Can we talk about mice

There is a large neon sign somewhere outside of our house that is only visible to mice, but it is apparently visible to all mice - because every single mouse in our town has taken up residence in our home.

Our neighborhood is surrounded by woods and our house backs up to them so it's not surprising that each winter a couple of Mickey's friends want to seek refuge inside with us where it's warm. Each year we've been able to set a few traps ... one thing leads to another... and bada bing, bada boom, problem solved..... And then this winter happened. We got our two or so little friends and put out the traps and.... that didn't work so well, so we put out a couple more then one or two after that and then..... finally it worked...... well for a couple of months. Then as we later learned, Brad moved their outdoor home while he was cleaning the garage and they decided to figuratively flip him the bird (and me too) by hanging out their "vacant" sign and inviting all their friends to come and join in the party at our home. And really who can blame them? It's warm, we've got a dog and two sloppy kids so there's always food on the floor (ususally just for the dog - but I wasn't kidding about the sloppy kids).

We find remnants of comfy homes they are making; little bits of torn up paper which creates a path leading directly behind the refrigerator. Brad decides to move the fridge to put some traps back there. He pulls it out; easy on its wheels. And what do we find? Yup, a mouse, just hanging out - clearly annoyed that we are bothering him. Picture the scene with me... Bandit, the Jack Russell terrier, barking non stop while trying to eat it, Jackson is trying to pet it, Teddy is trying to bring all the neighbor kids into the house to look at it... all the while Brad is trying to manage the chaos. Brad suggested I go upstairs to avoid having to see Bandit tear apart the mouse or maybe it was just because he couldn't handle one more human in the room at the moment- I'm really not sure, but was happy as a clam to be away from the craziness. Now I'm happily upstairs doing nothing in particular when about 45 minutes later Brad calls me downstairs to help him. I get down to find out that he's pushed the fridge sideways out of the way so he could walk back behind it to clean and set traps. (Word to the wise - the wheels on your fridge are only designed to go forwards and backwards - just thought I should mention it).

Anyway, he wants me to help him push it back. (our island is in the way so he couldn't just keep pushing the fridge straight out) We push, it won't move, we push harder and still nothing. He suggests this and then that and then this other thing until finally it starts to move a centimeter at a time. Finally we get it back in front of where it belongs and now we just need to push it straight back.... Jackson points out that the floor is "pushing up like a wave"... great. We push the fridge back and... yup there are 2 pizza shaped wedges that we managed to gouge into our floor - actually damaging the sub floor as well. Did I mention we were hosting a party 6 days later... I'm thinking new rug... Brad was thinking handyman. Brad hired a handyman and the floor looks like new - I think getting the floor fixed was very important to Brad on the Brad vs. mice scale.

So out came the traps again... but somewhere along the way these mice got smart and vindictive. Brad would bait the traps with peanut butter and the next morning we'd find all of the peanut butter gone but the traps were still set. In case you've not seen one of those little spring traps they are super sensitive - if you breathe on them hard they will trip, yet we would find them not tripped... clearly we had malfunctioning traps, this explained everything. We got new traps (okay that was Brad) and tried again. So we look the next morning and... no more peanut butter... traps still set. Darn. Okay now Brad tries a peanut which he embeds on the little spikey things designed for just that and we wait... uh yeah... Peanut gone. Trap still set. Double darn. (that's not really what we said). I suggested that we call in the professionals but Brad will not be beaten by these mice. Out comes the Elmer's glue - the peanut is glued to the trap and smugly we wait. Well.... um... yeah okay... no peanut, trap still set. Come on!!! Really? Okay let's pull out the big guns - superglue. Lots of peanuts, lots of glue.... and we wait, completely confident this time. Do you sense a theme here. And you'd be right... no peanuts and traps still set. They are laughing at us. We are providing all their entertainment.

So, I'm IMing with my friend Sue. I'm standing at the island in the middle of the kitchen typing away and something catches my eye, I look up and there is a mouse sauntering slowly across my kitchen towards the hallway. I'm immediately pissed off. I start screaming at the mouse "ARE YOU KIDDING ME???" and pounding the counter. He runs and hides. I go back to Sue and tell her of our brazen mice. About 10 minutes later something new catches my eye, that damn mouse (yes I am 100% confident it was the exact same mouse - I could tell cuz he was giving me the finger) was walking slowly towards my stove which is.... Right. Behind. Me. Oh you've got to be kidding. We've past the point of no return.

When Brad gets home a few hours later I greet him with that scary calm tone you can get.... We need to call the exterminator and we need to call them now, I can't take it any more. Luckily Brad was in full agreement. So now the exterminator has come - he's our new best friend. Many traps have been set, lots of poison has been laid and we are diligently working on our homework of doing our best to mouseproof our home..... luckily it's not too cold outside.

Camela

Interviewing the kids

A little thing I got from my friend Camille. I loved her daughter's answers so I just had to do it with the boys...

Teddy age 10 1/2

1. What is something mom always says to you?
"You're being rude"

2. What makes mom happy?
Me being polite

3. What makes mom sad?
Me being rude

4. How does your mom make you laugh?
Tickles me

5. What was your mom like as a child?
I don't know

6. How old is your mom?
42

7. How tall is your mom?
um... 4'9" or 4'10" (after he measured himself against me and then added some)

8. What is her favorite thing to do?
being made to laugh by me

9. What does your mom do when you're not around?
Stuff - I don't know, I'm not around to see it.

10. If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for?
mothering

11. What is your mom really good at?
tickling

12. What is your mom not very good at?
shooting laser beams out of her eyes (he was very concerned that I quoted him exactly)

13. What does your mom do for a job?
No idea... something at the pressure washer company??

14.What is your mom's favorite food?
mashed potatoes (not so much)

15. What makes you proud of your mom?
I never said I was proud of my mom

16. If your mom were a cartoon character, who would she be?
Goofy

17. What do you and your mom do together?
Stuff

18. How are you and your mom the same?
We have identical eyes

19. How are you and your mom different?
Well, she has a drivers license which I totally want

20. How do you know your mom loves you?
instinct

21. What does your mom like most about your dad?
I don't know, I'm not there when they're talking lovey dovey

22. Where is your mom's favorite place to go?
Somewhere where she can spend times with her kids like the pottery shop (I haven't been to a pottery shop in several years.... Hmmmm)


Jackson age 8 years and 2 months

1. What is something mom always says to you?
DUDE!!!

2. What makes mom happy?
nicely behaved children

3. What makes mom sad?
When her back is out

4. How does your mom make you laugh?
tickles me

5. What was your mom like as a child?
I really don't know

6. How old is your mom?
42

7. How tall is your mom?
four something

8. What is her favorite thing to do?
Boss around her children

9. What does your mom do when you're not around?
I don't know - it's impossible for me to know because I'm not around

10. If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for?
singing

11. What is your mom really good at?
singing and painting

12. What is your mom not very good at?
running and hopping

13. What does your mom do for a job?
work

14.What is your mom's favorite food?
eel - (he is so right!)

15. What makes you proud of your mom?
I don't really know

16. If your mom were a cartoon character, who would she be?
Cary (ok not a cartoon) she's the mom on the Suite Life of Zach and Cody - but you'd be really good as her cuz she's bossy and cares about manners and takes away all their equipment (I'm sensing a pattern here)

17. What do you and your mom do together?
Read

18. How are you and your mom the same?
We both have good handwriting

19. How are you and your mom different?
She's a girl

20. How do you know your mom loves you?
She's my mom

21. What does your mom like most about your dad?
I don't know, neither of them are me

22. Where is your mom's favorite place to go?
I don't know