The one in which I mention bras and whorehouses?

Ten things this week - some of which fall under the giant umbrella topic of  People Are Crazy.  

***(warning warning warning.... if you don't want to read about bras, houses of ill repute and Queen Esther's love life, stop reading now.)

1.  I asked a friend who keeps track of all our email addresses in my older adult group at work - a large group of about 40 regulars that I keep company with several hours a week - to send out a group mail reminding everyone not to wear strong perfumes at the gym.  And Lord.  I had no idea the passion that certain people feel about their scented toiletry products.  So she sent out the message and in return got a slew of angry replies.  And I got a headache.  Not just from the strong lady perfume wafting through class, but from defending my friend the messenger from the verbal assaults of others.  So in the end I ended up sending out gentle reminders of how we should all just be nice to each other - oh, and by the way, don't come into my classroom again smelling like a whorehouse on a Saturday night. (I'd like to give credit to my dad for that phrase - but I can't because I don't really know how I know that phrase.  But sadly, I do.) 

2.  Um.... Kid 3 hung up the phone on me Friday afternoon after he called after school to see if he could go back up to the church where we found him playing Frisbee last Friday when it turned out he was not at all kidnapped.  And when I told him yes he could go, but that I would have to pop on by there to confirm the actual existence of adult supervision and planned activities - I think, but not sure because it may have been a nightmare - I believe he told me that he just wouldn't go to the church if I was going to BURST all in there and embarrass him. Then he hung up.  And at that very moment he should've totally said a prayer of thanksgiving that I was about 5 minutes down the road and not within a reasonable arse whooping distance. 

So of course I called him back and told him that I will BURST into anything and anywhere I want to make sure my kids are safe and doing what they're supposed to be doing.  So Kid 3, prepare to be embarrassed lots more in the years to come, as I have only begun my bursting into your young life.  I predict my best bursting is yet to come.  And it may involve a loud speaker and my pajamas.  Oh yeah, and tell your brothers too.

3.  Kid 1's cleats got stolen after his game this week.  But it turns out he didn't lock them up in the locker - all confused and exhausted after a long day and late night game.  So I told him it just doesn't make sense for a teammate to steal another teammate's shoes because he could totally see them on the thief's feet at the next practice.  But it happened.  And no one ever said criminals were all that smart.  But now this one has a great new pair of cleats to wear with his guilty conscience. 

4.  Also this week, Kid 2 got a medical diagnosis from a fellow 8th grader who is interested in the body and such and may or may not one day pursue actual study in medicine.  But this week she is handing out free medical exams - so let me know if you want Kid 2 to hook you up.  Anyway, he found a very suspicious bump on the back of his neck.  Right at the hairline.  He asked me about it one night and my mom opinion was that it's just acne.  Doctor 8th Grade, however, disagrees with my opinion and diagnosed him with a gassy neck.  Which I never even knew anyone could have.  She feels that the bump looks a lot like gas build up from him not popping his neck enough.  I think I need to go see her for a check up on this lower back pain I can't seem to shake. 

5.  I Peanutized myself on that app that's been floating around Facebook the last few days. 

 I think she looks just like me.  Don't you?

I am absolutely not planning to go see the Peanuts movie because I saw the previews and I think they may have ruined the Peanuts gang forever.  But this Peanutize yourself app was all over Facebook and though it was a total time suck, I did it anyway.  You can make one of yourself here.  You know you want to.  

6.  I had one of those very serious moments that may or may not affect my child's life forever at the school.  One that made me exclaim, I'm about to put on my bra and go up to that school!  And THAT, folks, is serious business.  

7.  Speaking of bras.  I made a possibly rude, though totally unintentional comment about a client's push up brassiere in class the other day when she asked me to correct her form on a weighted bar chest press.  So when she said she was having difficulty getting her arms in proper placement, I said something to the effect of... those push up bras don't really do us any favors at the gym.   And then she told me that she wasn't wearing a push up anything - and that what is preventing her ability to perform a quality chest press is au natural.

Oh... and I also offered to help a guy stretch after class.  Because he totally needs it and I see a hamstring incident in  his future.  But when I offered, he got all shy eyed and word stumped like I asked him to the prom.  And he obviously mistook my professionalism and good natured offer to go above and beyond the call of duty as an I want to marry you over there on the stretching mat, fella.... The preacher is waiting.  

Some days I wonder how I've lasted in this profession as long as I have.  

(to the guy at the gym if you ever run across this and find yourself talked about on the blog..... I think you are totally worth marrying on the stretching mat.  I think your wife would agree.  However, I was a sweaty mess that day and in no way ready for a post workout wedding.  Also, I think the state of Texas has laws against me marrying a second husband.)

8.  This is a picture of Kid 3's feet in church Sunday morning.  

No shoes.  He came into church with shoes because I'm pretty sure I told him back at the house to just put on the #%#$* shoes and get in the car.   Also  in church as the substitute pastor told us how Queen Esther was chosen to become queen because of her great beauty, husband whispered into my ear that she was really chosen as queen because she was good in bed - if I may quote Fireman Dave the Biblical scholar.  Which just proves THAT is how men interpret scripture.  And from then on I have no idea what the preacher said. 

9.  I nearly fell down in the Stein Mart as I tried to squeeze through a rack of sweaters and a giant box of  something - maybe pillows or whatever.  Because I was wearing some decently elevated boots while trying to both squeeze through a small space and hold on to the items I was taking to the register.  But the giant box had a big piece of packing tape sticking out from it - that clear kind that you use to pack and mail boxes and is totally invisible to the high heeled booted eye - and it got stuck to the top of my right shoe while my left shoe kept walking.  And it was not a graceful save, but a save nonetheless, and I don't have any broken bones from my shopping trip.  I should've complained and asked for a free dress to be thrown in for my emotional distress.   

.......... Which takes us to number 10...............

10.  I went to a book signing yesterday because it seemed such a grown up thing to do and also very cultured.  I love the author's work because she reminds me of me, but curses a whole lot more than I do.  And she has panic attacks as well, which makes us almost sisters in the world of mental health.  I even put on cute jeans and heels and all that glitters.  But I ended up leaving early and sitting in my car jotting down things I want to share on the blog. 

Because I got in there and found there were a whole lot of people there and I remembered I just don't like crowds.  And I also found out I like the author much more on paper than I do in person, which isn't altogether a bad thing.  Because I have a feeling a lot of y'all say the same thing about me.

But what I noticed is that I didn't talk to anyone there.  Even though we obviously have something in common because we all showed up to hear the same author speak about the same subject.  And I decided that's exactly why I blog.  Because I can write anything I want on here and it's just like saying it out loud, but not.   (Refer back to mention of bras and brothels.) 

So I chat on and on here like we're just sitting around in my front yard chairs talking - and then I hit the scary publish button.  And all of a sudden I find that a billion people just read what I wrote and I breathe a conflicted sigh of anxiety/relief that ...HOLY COW.... a billion people just read what I wrote.  And then I start wondering who read it and if they liked it or if they're sitting at home laughing -  at me, not with me.  That's the anxiety kicking in. 

Thank goodness I'm still a work in progress. I think that may be the best line out of the whole list today. 

(But whoever you are reading this today, I love you for always coming back for more. Thank you for being a friend.  Pretend I just sang that to you like the theme to The Golden Girls TV show.)  

Have a good week. 

post script - because I'm an Aggie and we just discussed, um.., houses of ill repute and the like.... I just can't resist.  (The Aggie Boys song, Best Little Whorehouse in Texas)

Kid 3 was missing Friday afternoon. And an hour late home from school turned into a lifetime for Fireman Dave

Kid 3 was missing Friday afternoon.  And by missing I mean we couldn't find him ANYWHERE.  And we live two blocks from the school.  So when he didn't come home, maybe you can imagine the panic.  

On a scale of fear, ranked 1 to 10, 10 being totally on the edge of losing control of all your senses and possibly your faculties, husband was a 9.  I would dare to say he was crossing over to a 10, but he was still able to drive the car around the neighborhood looking for our boy so he was still in partial working order.  I was probably a 6 to start with since it had only been a little while the kid had been missing.  And I know my kid and the strong possibility of forgetfulness and/or confusion on his part.   But then husband worked me up to equal his fear level and made me want to search every car trunk within a 5 mile radius when he yelled at me over the phone and I could hear he had crossed over from worry to totally freaked out.  

So then I picked up Kid 1 from the high school and kid 2 arrived home from the bus and all was quiet as we waited and tried to figure out what to do next.  And husband drove all the likely places.  And the school did a campus wide search for him but with no luck.  And I was calling and texting everyone under the sun that may have seen anything to give us a hint about where to look next.  And when the school principal asked if we wanted to file a police report, it became more real than I ever want to feel again.  

Skipping to the end... Kid 3 was found safely and all is well.  And when we saw him it was totally one of those I love you and I'm glad you're safe -  but now I'm going to kill you moments.  

But as I thought more about it over the weekend and I let the worry about the kid pass, I realized that the fear husband had during that hour or so was both powerful and real.  It wasn't just worry over a kid home late from school.  It was years of being Fireman Dave and living with things that he has never and will probably never tell me.  

So... I'm no expert on the post traumatic stress symptoms of firefighters.  But I'm married to one who is.   I'm not even an expert on the what he does at the station each day.  I know he cooks three meals a day for the guys and they do chores around the fire house like they do at their own homes.  And they grocery shop and take care of stuff  I can't even name.  And they host lots of tours and entertain plenty of kids who one day want to be firemen.  And oh yes, they save lives.  And they prevent a whole lot of bad things from getting worse -  and they stop a few altogether.  And they clean up a lot of messes.  Messes we don't even want to think about.  And they patch people up and carry them places and pick them up when they've fallen.  And they're really good at soothing the worry of others and putting their own aside till they can tend to it later.   

I've heard about shootings and stabbings and bridge jumpers and people hanging in places that make me sad.  I've heard stories of people who have given up hope so much that they finally gave up and husband was called to clean up what was left.  I've heard of countless crimes and assaults and late night runs on people that are determined to hurt each other if they haven't already.  And I've seen husband on the news cleaning up at murder scenes and helping little old ladies out of flooded roads.   And I know there are more things he hasn't told me than those he has.   

And I've lived through the years where all the bad took such a toll on his spirit that he wasn't  the same sweet man I married.  Those were the prime years of acreage shopping, dreaming, and wanting to move his family away from the bad.  I think he finally decided that we'll never be able to move far enough away to be away from the bad.  

But when he finally got the chance to change areas of town and work in a more peaceful environment, he got better.  Or at least he acts like it.  But I know he can't ever un-see what he's seen.  And he'll never forget the sounds and smells and pictures of places he's been.  But he's usually really good about keeping it away from home.  Till Friday afternoon when he had daytime nightmares about his own kid.  And an hour late from school turned into a lifetime for Fireman Dave.   So as the minutes ticked by and our kid was no where he was supposed to be, husband's mind went right to the bad.  I don't think he could help it.  

So we do what we can to teach our kids how to be safe and stay safe.  And I know the guys at the fire station do the best they can for each other to make sure everyone goes home the next morning from work.  But I'm not sure how to take care of the rest.  

post script... Kid 3 was found playing Frisbee with the youth minister at a nearby church about an hour and a half after school let out.  About an hour into the search we got a tip that he was well and good and was seen headed out our back gate after coming home and finding the door locked.  We thanked the neighbor's tree trimming crew for that bit of info and their watchful eyes.  

He was scheduled for a doctor appointment that afternoon right after school.  So when he took too long to get home, husband locked up the house and drove to where he thought the kid would walk past.  We live a tiny two blocks from the school for heaven's sake.... but they managed to miss each other.   He had gone to  the church that sometimes hosts an after school basketball play time for the kids that walk home alone.  He said that's the only place he thought of to go and call us.  But we pointed out that he didn't call our cell phones.  And WHY?????  I guess because he didn't know we weren't home because we were out searching everywhere thinking he had been kidnapped.  

It turned out to be a happy ending, but it added a few worry lines around my eyes.

Ladies and gentlemen: the story you are about to hear is true. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent

Today I had a request to write a little bit about the boys and their back to school adventures.  And getting such a request made me feel all blogging famous for about 30 seconds.  Like what I think someone asking me for my autograph would feel like.  Remember that time I was recognized in the YMCA bathroom for a piece I wrote for my church and I felt like a celebrity?  A celebrity washing her hands in the YMCA bathroom, but Y'ALL... to be recognized for doing something well makes me all giddy inside. It's called encouragement and should be the 5th food group on the pyramid right behind fruits and vegetables and before whole grains. 

Me and Fireman Dave at Kid 3's football game last weekend.  We're kinda color coordinated but didn't plan it.  That would be weird and against all our relationship rules.  
 Oh my gosh.... husband and I had the weirdest exchange this morning.  Which has had me laughing all day.  I was in the bathroom with the door shut and I could hear husband talking to me... at least I thought he was talking to me, but around here you never really know.  So I said,.... What is it?   But husband apparently heard, Who is it?  So he introduced himself to me like we've never met before.  (Or really more like we had met before but then when he called me on the phone to ask me for a date because he had fallen immediately head over heels in love with me, ... I didn't know who he was.)  Which would also make me laugh, come to think of it.  But it would probably make him sad.  

So the weird part was that he stood outside the bathroom door, and said,..... Um.. It's me..... David.  

And I totally thought about pretending I had no idea who he was.  But I was laughing too hard and figured he was having a middle aged memory moment so I told him that I know exactly who he is and what the heck? - Have you lost your mind?  It was funny to me anyway.  Maybe you had to be in the bathroom with me to get the full humor of it all.  

This is when our sweet niece gave me and husband a free afternoon of together time on our vacation. But then she used that time to try to make the kids anti-Aggie and took them to the University of Texas football fan day.  So I came home and bought them all new Aggie t-shirts for college shirt days at school to make sure they understand the difference between right and wrong. 
So about those boys.... Pretty much all they're good for these days is throwing dirty laundry on the floor and telling me that my shirt is on inside out.  I'm predicting a day way into the future when I'm old and they take pleasure in telling me I've dribbled food down my chin.  

I actually think they've formed a plot to be mostly quiet and uneventful the past week so I wouldn't write about them on here.  I caught Kid 1 trying to read over my shoulder the other day as I typed... probably wondering if it was about him.....which totally makes me wonder what he was feeling guilty about.  But I claimed creative privacy and made him leave.  

But they all know they can read the blog anytime once it's published.   And I think when they're all grown and I'm either dead or not, they'll sit around and talk about how I made their private lives a fishbowl for the world to watch them swim.   Ladies and gentlemen: the story you are about to hear is true. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent.  That's actually the opening line to Dragnet.... and it should probably be my opening line for every post.  

I saw a movie not long ago about a girl who was the subject of children's books her entire life - her parents were the authors.  So she was famous world wide for her storybook life that may or may not have mirrored the real thing.  Anyway, she grew up to be a total psycho and possibly a serial killer.   Kinda makes me stop dead in my blogging tracks and question my choices.   

General info.... nameless and numberless kids - you know... to protect the innocent.  I had a request to buy stronger deodorant and breath mints.  No, not for me.  For a kid.  I think love is in the air.  Fresh breath and sweet body smells sure look like signs of romance to me.  It might be time to bring out that book I've had hidden away for years.  The one I ordered with the serious intent of sharing it with the boys as a supplement to what their wonderful dad has already taught them.  But I looked at the content and quickly hid it in a drawer.  The book, What's Going on Down There, turned out to be a total expose' on what's really going on down there - and if they hadn't already thought about it, they sure would after reading that book.  And I just haven't been ready for them to know what they aren't emotionally ready to know yet.  Maybe it's me that's not ready. 

Because I'm totally one of those moms who, when sitting around during family time, and all of a sudden an ad for erectile dysfunction comes on TV... or one of those awful medication ads where they list the 200 side effects that can happen to you if you take it - usually involving, again, erectile dysfunction.... I totally start doling out chores.  Or talking about baby animals.

Because growing up is happening so fast.  I've had real distress since school started and repeating to the world a million times what grades the boys are in now.  9th, 8th, 6th.  One in high school, two in middle school.  Then someone will inevitably say how they're growing up and then ask what ever I'll do with myself in a few years?  So I suggested to husband that I may need another baby.  He said no.  And then I suggested we get one of those adorable Ethiopian babies that the movie stars get and we could have a new baby experience but I wouldn't have to actually do it.  He still said no.  So then I finally just asked him what the heck we'll do with each other once the kids are grown.  He says I need a hobby.  

This was a few months ago - Kid 1 all dressed up for his 8th grade dance.  No, I did not go
 So back to school..... 

Kid 1 is a Freshman this year.  And I happen to think he's the handsomest boy in the entire school.  I would totally have a crush on him if I were 15 and not his mother.  He's playing football and he auditioned and got accepted into jazz band.  So I'm thankful he's able to use his guitar skills for the good of mankind - by that I mean for his own good.  Because he had gotten terribly lazy about it.  He needed a push and I'm glad he has a teacher to do it for him instead of me.  

He has football practice daily till about 7 in the evening and that's been good for him as well.  Idle hands are the devil's workshop.  SO TRUE in the case of teen boys.  So I love the coaches for getting him good and tired before he comes home  each day.  (aside..... our new athletic director at the high school sounds just like Trace Adkins - the tight jeans, pony tail wearing country singer -  and I keep expecting him to break into a chorus of Honky Tonk Badonkadonk any minute.  I'm gonna ask him if he knows that one.) 

Kid 1 reported this week, however that all in one day he discovered a scary guy in the school hallway lurking outside the band hall door and then moments later, a crazy fella hiding in the bathroom acting way too familiar and asking to borrow Kid 1's green phone charger.  (Kid 1 doesn't have a green phone charger.)  Anyway, lesson learned and he decided that the middle of third period isn't a good time to go to the bathroom.  

family summer selfie at the arboretum. I love love love Kid 2.

Kid 2 is in 8th grade at the same middle school he's been at the last two years.  A perfectly safe, good environment but I have some serious doubts that they're actually learning anything.  It has yet to be seen if he will someday contribute to society in an educated, professional way.  But his drum teacher - a fireman friend - thinks Kid 2 is wonderful.  So he's getting the thumbs up on good and polite behavior away from home and that's exactly what a mother wants.  Now I can die happy.  

He bought a knife the other day when we went to the First Monday Trade Days in Canton.  Kind of a West Side Story switchblade type weapon.  He used it to slice an avocado for me this week.  And he was so polite to the knife sales person that the guy threw in another weapon absolutely free!  Kid 2 is a winner all around.  

Cutie pie Kid 3.  His smile makes me smile. 
Kid 3 has started playing football for a league that we thought was local.  But we obviously didn't ask the right questions.  It's turned out to be a traveling team and we spent half our Saturday in North Richland Hills at a pee wee league football game and the other half of the day driving around North Richland Hills trying to find the entrance to the Chick Fila for lunch.  (and FYI... we live as far away from North Richland Hills as we do from the moon.)

Kid 3 also has a before school party every morning at our house beginning about 7:15.  This morning before school, including my own kids, I had 9 boys here till I left the house for work at 8:00.  The friends show up here and use our house as home base to meet and walk to school together.  Which I think is the greatest idea in the world since this is their first year in a rather rough and tumble middle school environment and I like to think there's strength in numbers.  So they arrive one by one or in pairs, come in, play with the dog for a bit and wait for Kid 3 to finish eating breakfast.  Then they play basketball on the driveway till time to go.  This morning I caught one of them climbing up the basketball goal of the next door neighbor  - like a monkey - trying to adjust the height of the hoop.  So I sent Kid 1 out to yell at him that we only own what's on our side of the driveway and for him to climb on something dangerous over this direction.  

I think middle school is going to be a challenge for us all with Kid 3.  He's trying to make a fresh start with grades and effort and his privilege of playing football lies in the balance.  We're hoping for the best.  More on that later.  

So that's it.  I feel all warm and fuzzy inside bragging about my boys.  Thanks for asking about them!

I wonder how the last 14 years have been

I've had a hard time writing this week.  Even thinking about WHAT to write kept me quiet. 

Because it seems that all the news going on of things far bigger than my dog eating our dinner the other night and the really cute sweater I just bought just shouted for me to be quiet.  

Hush.  And listen to what is being said around you, Kristi.  Listen to the sounds of the world that are bigger than you.    

And today I am sitting here quiet.  Waiting for the boys to get home from school.  Remembering,  like we all are, the events of this day 14 years ago.   

I can tell you all the details of where I was that morning... but it's not very exciting.  And not at all important in the big scheme of things.   

But I think like so many of us, the day made me scared.  And sad.  And as the day went on I got more scared.  And a lot more sad.  And the news kept showing the same scenes over and over all day till I couldn't stand it anymore and turned it all off and went to my parents' house.   My dad was still alive then.  For about 5 more months. 

And we pulled out the baby pool for little bitty Kid 1 to splash around in.  He was 15 months old.  And did I mention that I was also a rather large, pregnant woman awaiting the birth of Kid 2 any day?  And I think that's what scared the life out of me.  Thinking about their little lives and what kind of world they would grow up in.  

And I sat out on my parents' back patio and cried.  I cried because I was overloaded with bad news.  And I cried because I went to the bank earlier that day and everyone in there scared me and I ended up leaving without taking care of a darn thing.  And I cried because there were other moms like me.... but moms who would be raising kids on their own from then on.  And I cried looking at my little one splashing around in the pool and not knowing that there are mean people.   

And I was terrified of going home by myself that night because Fireman Dave was at the station.  Because the news had me convinced that evil was all around.  

My dad had gone to the hospital earlier that day as well.  He had been at work and had a hemorrhage in his eye that was a result of his illness.  And he looked terrible and felt even worse, but I think having a baby swimming in a little pool out on your patio just makes things feel a lot better.  

So we sat.  And we listened to the quietest quiet I think I've ever heard.  Because there were no airplanes flying.  And people everywhere, I think, were somewhere inside waiting for more news.  And I remember the amazing, gorgeous day it was here in Dallas.  

And I think what takes my breath away is how life goes on.  In every situation of loss or disappointment or hurt, life goes on all around - while yours seems to stand still for way too long.  Don't you hate that?  I just really do.  

But what I think has stayed with me the most, aside from the actual scenes of the day.... are the people left behind to grieve their losses.   And I say THEIR losses because it was news to most of us, but it was reality for others.  News that affected each one of our emotions, but a reality that became bigger than life for a whole lot of people.   

So I feel hurt for the people that still wake up on this day each year and remember what they were doing and how it all changed without even imagining that it could.  

And I think, truth be told, I feel a little selfish that I wait till this day each year to remember.  Because there are way too many people that remember it all every day - not just on an anniversary day.   

So I think far more important than what I was doing that day, and my own smallish perspective of events,  ... is to consider how the lives of those directly affected have moved forward.  

I wonder how the last 14 years have been.  

I think there's probably some good lessons on living in their stories. 

Everyone in this story is naked but me

I was in the kitchen last night making cinnamon rolls like any good mother would do at 10PM on a school night.  Right?  And not at all out of the ordinary, I heard doors slamming and then yelling and what sounded like bodies slamming against walls.  And let me repeat, not at all out of the ordinary for a normal bedtime routine.  But usually they contain this behavior to their bedroom with the door shut.  So I knew when the door kept continually slamming and pictures were falling off walls that this had to be one of those unique and special situations that we moms of multiple boys know all about.  Times that erupt like a sudden thunderstorm with gale force winds. 

Kid 2 then came into the room yelling at me, very animated, and might I add, wild eyed, as if he'd just seen a gruesome bear attack.  Or had inhaled some unhealthy chemical.  And naked.  Everyone in this story is naked but me.  

Now jumping ahead to the end of the story when husband laid down beside me in the bed and patted my head like a sick child... asking if I would be alright after the trauma and using his soothing Fireman Dave voice like he does at work.   Because he worries about me and my delicate bend toward panic in nerve wracking situations.  (I think he mostly worries that I will claim an oncoming heart attack and demand he hook me up to the heart machine at the fire station to convince me otherwise. We have a history.)  

And I told him I just want to bury my head under the covers and pray to not have nightmares.  And also, can he take the boys to live out in the woods until they outgrow this phase please?    Then you know I asked him what I should do in such violent times if he's at work and can't handle the dirty work for me around here.  I think he told me to do just as I was doing right then... hide under the covers till the attack is over,  and hope for a better day tomorrow.  Or something like that.  

So kid 2 was in the boys' bathroom, stepping into the shower, water turned on, soap practically already on is body; ....  When Kid 1 tore into the bathroom, pushed Kid 2 out into the hallway and said he was going to take a shower first.  Then locked the door.  So Kid 2 did his best to knock down the bathroom door, making big brother angry, and causing a flurry of teenage boy emotion.  

Remember everyone is naked in this story but me.  That's very important.  

So the fight moved from the bathroom into my bedroom where they roughed each other up a bit and rearranged furniture and pictures on the wall.  All while I tried to make homemade cinnamon rolls out of love.  So I made my way to the crime scene after being alerted by a yelling and irate Kid 2, and I call for the help of husband who happened to be in the other shower.  He at least took time to wrap a towel around his own naked before he joined in the chaos.  

So husband went into the boys bathroom where Kid 1 had left Kid 2 for dead and had begun his well fought for shower.  More yelling happened, along with other noises that I couldn't quite identify, and in the end Kid 1 got booted out of the bathroom, naked of course, and Kid 2 was restored to his rightful place as first in line for the shower.   I was just an innocent bystander begging everyone to please put on some pants.

Now in the meantime, Kid 3 laid in his bed reading a book.  Because he chose to be sweet and not get involved in things this time around.  He is also apparently over his fear that he had for the longest time after husband showed him a scary movie about a man breaking into a family's home and bludgeoning the dad before our very eyes.  I'm reminded of this because the sounds coming out of our house last night were greatly reminiscent of that horrible movie scene that gave Kid 3 nightmares for months.  So something good came from it all, and we can mark fear of being killed in your own home off his worry list.  

Me.....  I saw a whole lot of naked and raging testosterone that I can't un-see.  I also burned the cinnamon rolls and had to throw them in the trash.  I did end up falling asleep but woke with a little sore throat.  I think from screaming for help in the middle of madness.  I also ended up driving Kid 1 to the high school in my pajamas because the bus didn't show up.  But that gave me the opportunity to express my unhappiness for the events of last night.  Also giving him the warning that though he is a bit taller than Kid 2, I've seen them both in fights before and Kid 2 can totally take him. 

And I feel sure our next-door neighbors on both sides are convinced we're not at all who we say we are.  Thinking to themselves how nice we seem by day.   
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