(Note: After a week of camp in July, I came home to find out I'd become part of THAT Family Tree Society! How cool is that?! This post is from the day I realized how far I'd come! ha ha)
I woke up this morning thinking that it'd be a laid back day. I had no plans of putting on make-up or even making myself look much more presentable that the au natural. I threw my hair back in a pony tail and away I went.
I even managed to take the Talented One and B-Boo to school without too much chaos. And then it happened.
We were trying to get my niece off to school (never an easy task) and hubby out to work, when the Smart One mentioned that Roxy, B-Boo's pup, was missing. (That's never a good thing.) I told him to check the back yard.
About that time, the phone rings. It's my little Jewish friend. She wants to know how my day's going so far. I laugh and ask her why. She laughs and says she was trying to get her TB test done (this is a favor to ME...don't ask why), but that the testing center is closed on Thursdays, so can she come visit. Why, yes, come on over! (We tend to get into trouble together..never intentional, but always fun, but that is another post for another day.) I hang up, say goodbye to hubby and go back to my niece.
Anyway, back to the missing pup. She's so cute...don't you think? So, the Smart One checks the back yard and yells that Roxy has caught ANOTHER bird mentions that he thinks the cute, widdle, puppy has a tweetie bird. I yell back to get the thing politely ask him to please retrieve the cute widdle tweetie bird. He runs, she runs. (I"m still in the house trying to get hubby out the door and my niece packed for school.) He yells she won't give the bird up. I am NOT looking forward to cleaning up yet another bloody, gutted bird mess off of a white dog. I try to ignore it, honest. I tell him to get the bird. He says he can't reach her. He can't reach her? That can't be good, can it? Oh darn.
I ask, "Why can't you reach her?"
He replies, "She's at the back of the kennel."
"The kennel, as in the kennel in the house? With the dead bird? And she won't let go? Ew!"
There are times when a mom must do what she has to do. Ok, then. I go to the kennel where my son is still yelling at the dog to drop it. She doesn't listen to him. I peek in and find this cute, adorable, puppy sitting all the way back in the kennel with a bird in her mouth. It's head is peaking out. It's alive...yes, alive this time. That has to be a good thing, right?
I have to stop here and ask my readers...have you ever done something and then realized that may not have been the best way to do it? You know, one of those, "I didn't see that coming, did you?" moments? This, was one of those moments!
By now, I have four children standing around the kennel wondering what's going to happen next. I simply command the dog to drop the bird. (She actually listens to me sometimes.) She promptly dropped the bird and ran out the dog door to avoid my wrath. The bird promptly flew out of the kennel and into the boys room. The girls scream. LOUDLY. I screamed, too, not out of fear, but I was rather startled to have a bird come flying at me. The boys just stand there in awe looking at the chaos. My husband comes running back into the house, panicked. He left the car running outside to come inside and find out what all the commotion was about. He tried to catch the bird. The bird went flying. The girls screamed. Hubby yells to stop screaming. I yell at my son to take my niece to school; she's late.
And then I lose it. I mean, I completely lose it. I am hysterical. I can't stop laughing. I think of THAT family. I'm so bad at this point, that I yell at no one in particular to go get my camera because I just have to blog about this one! (That tells you just how nuts I am at this point, right?!) I'm pretty sure my husband thought that I had really lost it this time. I tell him to go to work, I'll catch the bird. Really.
Hubby heads off to work. My son makes back in record time. He doesn't' want to miss out on the action! I can't find the bird. Anywhere. I know which way it went. We start to tear the room apart. I finally find it under the dresser tucked way back in the corner. And then my little Jewish friend shows up.
I say to her, "Wanna help me catch a bird?"
To which she replies, rather enthusiastically, I might add, "Sure!" ( I have to say that I absolutely ADORE my friend; she's so awesome!)
We head into the room and I show her where the bird is hiding. Her daughter and I lift up the dresser so that she can get the bird. I tell my son to make sure to take a picture. She gets the bird. It flies to the other side of the room. She goes to get it. She stubs her broken toe. (Being my friend comes with danger at times. It's a risk you take. Maybe I should give a disclaimer or something like that before one agrees to become friends with me.) She catches the bird...and holds onto it. She even lets my son take a picture. After two tries, this is the best we can get.