Sunday, July 16, 2006

Using the Force

The house seems to be in it's final count-down
to being ready. We have tried to explain by phone and email to our builder during this whole process certain requests for our house. Now that Rick is in Nashville and can go see the house in Leiper's Fork we have found that even though we thought we were quite clear, we maybe just weren't clear enough. I guess we were not trained in using the force of the Good Side and the old Jedi mind tricks quite well enough. But even Jedi Masters don't get it right all of the time.

And even if we did think we were clear, sometimes the person we are communicating to has some other image in their head and thinks we understand each other perfectly.

Sort of like one morning when my 3 year old had something very important to tell me.

As a mom, I have gotten pretty used to rude awakenings in the middle of the night and some groggy early mornings. This particular morning, my three year old had gotten up quite early. The sky was just turning a soft grey outside. Rick wasn't home, but on a blissful business trip with a mini bar and turn down service, so I was once again in charge. Little son comes up a bit timidly to my bed and starts talking about how there is a kitty sleeping on the daybed in the guest room.

"Yes even our kitty needs sleep dear. Please go back to bed." is all I can mumble.

He walks off toward his room to and I have great hope that he is content with my answer and my infinite wisdom and he will go back to sleep.

A few minutes later I can hear him breathing again at the side of my bed.

"There is a kitty sleeping in there. He's on the bed, but not on the bed." he tries to explain to me.

"Ya well kitties are funny like that." I tell him. "Just leave him alone and go back to bed."

He slowly leaves my room and I put my head under the pillow thinking that if he comes back he won't know I'm there.

A few minutes pass and I hear him fidgeting by my bed.

"Mom it looks like Freddie kitty but he's different."

Ok, now I'm starting to stir a bit. "What do you mean he's different?" Foggy thoughts of the cat being stiff with rigor mortis enter my mind.

"Well he's like a different color." he answers softly.

Now I am becoming more awake and I begin asking myself what in the world did that cat get into that would change its fur a different color? Last I saw our cat was a long hair black cat with just bits of white on his face and paws. I then remind myself that we are now living in the urban/wildlife interface and we have encountered many small creatures around our house. I begin to figure it out, Oh dear Lord, it must be a opossum. A wild, rabid opossum has gotten into our house and is making a new home on our guest day bed. I can't think. I have to clear my foggy mind. What should I do next? If I go in there it may go crazy and escape and then be running wild all through the house. If I ignore it, it may have babies on the day bed and then I'd have 8 wild rabid animals in the house. I then begin to formulate the thought that the 3 year old had been in the room with that creature several times and that didn't seem to agitate the animal. So I instruct my 3 yo to quietly please go see what "kitty" is doing now. "But don't go in," I explain, "just look and then close the door so "kitty" can't get out."

He dutifully and bravely faced the dangerous task I had asked him to endure. He comes back with a report that it is "Still there and sleeping." I think well of course it is, being feverish with rabies and all. It must be too sick to move much anymore and I was thankful that my 3 year old had enough sense not to go and pet it or anything.

I decide I need to quiz toddler son some more.

"So, it looked like Freddie kitty but was a different color. What do you mean 'different color'?"

"It was like Freddie kitty but with more white."

The wheels were churning in my mind. Black animal with more white. Holy smokes! A SKUNK!! Of course! They were all around and I could smell their sweet fragrance when the dogs next door decided once every other night to bark at them and chase them toward our house. One finally decided to just move in.

Now things were getting a little more complicated. If I scared the skunk I would be buying tomato paste for the next 4 years. This was something that had to be dealt with in a very cool and quiet manner. Should I call animal control? The fire department? Being the thinker that I am, I decide that a peek in the room with a baseball bat at the ready would be a pretty good plan before I went off alerting TV news stations about the wild animal I went one to one with heroically saving not only my own children but very possibly every child in the neighborhood. Yes indeed, this skunk picked the wrong daybed.

I tip toe quietly to the closed guest room door and press an ear to it in order to pick up any rustling sounds. It seemed pretty quiet it there, but skunks are known to be that way. Then as I wait I ask myself if it really is a good idea for me to combat this animal by myself. The decision is made that I must press on. I slowly turn the door knob and crack it open just a tiny bit, bat at the ready. The room is lit by the pale grey sky just enough that I can make out most of everything in there, but see nothing on the daybed. Being a bit more confident I open the door an extra inch to get a better view, but still see nothing. The poor thing must have been scared and scampered into the darkness under the bed. I back out of the room, close the door and whisper to toddler son asking him just where was the "kitty." We wait a few moments and then he comes closer and we softly open the door together. He points to the daybed and quietly replies, "Right there." Well, the wild animal obviously wasn't right there any more. So we enter the room, just a step or two.

"Look!" he says getting louder, "He's right there."

Holy crap! "WHERE?!" as I start prancing up and down hoping nothing climbs up my leg as we back out of the room with me swinging the door closed behind us.

"It was right there on the bed." he says calmly.

Things are starting to get creepy. I've seen those movies where kids see weird things that grown ups can't. I just never thought it would be one of my kids and that they would be seeing haunted Pet Semetary stuff on our guest daybed.

I catch my breath and proceed with caution. I knew that the haunted animal would now be agitated because not only did I show fear, but I slammed the door closed on its tormented face. A few moments pass and I courageously crack open the door again and look more closely at the day bed. I don't see anything. I glance around the room and see nothing out of the ordinary there, just a lamp and piggy bank on the side table, my sewing machine and assorted odds and ends as usual on the other side. Yet toddler son still insisted that the "kitty" was still in the room.

Once more I back out of the room and I get down on my knees so I am at my little boy's height and instruct him to point to the "kitty" when we open the door. With all the fear I have pushed aside and armed with the knowledge that the creature must consider my son his friend, I cautiously open the door. He points to the bed, but just passed the bed. I put my eye to his finger and I finally see what it was that he saw. From his toddler view the big old fashioned ivory with painted sleeping dark eyes piggy bank on the side table, did indeed look like a semi-white kitty sleeping on but yet not quite on the daybed.

And people think that moms can't solve mysteries!

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