Prom Pictures
Here is my beautiful daughter Sarabeth. She went to the Prom on Friday with 3 of her girlfriends. I'm so happy that she was comfortable going without a male escort. Why miss out on all the fun, just because you lack a male companion
Monday, April 30, 2007
Prom Pictures
Here is my beautiful daughter Sarabeth. She went to the Prom on Friday with 3 of her girlfriends. I'm so happy that she was comfortable going without a male escort. Why miss out on all the fun, just because you lack a male companion
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Sleep
I need sleep, lots of it. Am I getting old? I wonder how I managed having 5 children, and the sleep deprivation that came with it. For 13 years straight, I didn't have uninterrupted sleep. Most nights I sleep 6 or 7 hours, but that doesn't seem to be enough. I look forward to Saturday mornings when I can sleep for at least 9 hours. (If you've never experienced this, I hope some day you will. For years, I doubted it would ever happen.) Occasionally, the kids have a day off during the week, and I look forward to that as another day to sleep in. (Now if I would also quit believing I get to stay up late the night before...)
Yesterday was just such a morning. I warned Michael the night before that I was sleeping in, and since it is the only time he gets up before me, I asked him to not wake me up. Apparently, he doesn't realize what a light sleeper I am. When I finally dragged myself out of bed, I was more than a bit cranky. Later, I felt terribly guilty for it. Afterall, Michael had to go into the office, so that is why he spent 20 minutes opening and closing drawers, shuffling through the closet, in-and-out of the bathroom, etc.
So why is it, that some people function just fine on little sleep, even laughing themselves silly or stay up all night just for fun?
Ethan had an EEG on Thursday, a sleep deprivation one. He was allowed to sleep from midnight until 4 a.m. My daughter was not looking forward to being sleep deprived along with him. His test began at 8 a.m. Ethan watched in a mirror, as the tech used a sharpie to draw dots all over his head. (What were we thinking? Yes, later in the day he was drawing on himself with a pen.) We could hear another overtired child crying in the next room. But Ethan was all giggles.
Being so tired, I thought he might get upset at the probes and then the wrapping of his head, but does he look like he minds? I know if I was that tired, and lying in a bed, I would not be so happy.
Once he was wired, they dimmed the lights and he cozied up to sleep. Then the strob light began flashing in his eyes. He grinned the whole time.
Once the strob light stopped, Ethan fell fast asleep. He was monitored for 10 minutes. Then he had to be woken up.
The whole time, I tried to imagine how I would feel if I had to endure this type of testing. Sleep deprivation, flashing lights, finally peaceful sleep-only to be awakened after 10 minutes. Ethan was a trooper. He awoke smiling, as if he'd had a full nights sleep. He didn't even fall back asleep on the drive home. I wish I could have his happy disposition with so little sleep.
What about those who go without sleep for fun? Last night was prom. Sarabeth attended. The after prom party began at midnight. Double-decker buses drove them around to various activities, so if the kids were tired, they weren't allowed to go home early. They had to stay up until the buses arrived back at the school at 7:30 this morning. But that is another story. I'll post pics tomorrow of prom or late today after sleeping beauty wakes up.
I need sleep, lots of it. Am I getting old? I wonder how I managed having 5 children, and the sleep deprivation that came with it. For 13 years straight, I didn't have uninterrupted sleep. Most nights I sleep 6 or 7 hours, but that doesn't seem to be enough. I look forward to Saturday mornings when I can sleep for at least 9 hours. (If you've never experienced this, I hope some day you will. For years, I doubted it would ever happen.) Occasionally, the kids have a day off during the week, and I look forward to that as another day to sleep in. (Now if I would also quit believing I get to stay up late the night before...)
Yesterday was just such a morning. I warned Michael the night before that I was sleeping in, and since it is the only time he gets up before me, I asked him to not wake me up. Apparently, he doesn't realize what a light sleeper I am. When I finally dragged myself out of bed, I was more than a bit cranky. Later, I felt terribly guilty for it. Afterall, Michael had to go into the office, so that is why he spent 20 minutes opening and closing drawers, shuffling through the closet, in-and-out of the bathroom, etc.
So why is it, that some people function just fine on little sleep, even laughing themselves silly or stay up all night just for fun?
Ethan had an EEG on Thursday, a sleep deprivation one. He was allowed to sleep from midnight until 4 a.m. My daughter was not looking forward to being sleep deprived along with him. His test began at 8 a.m. Ethan watched in a mirror, as the tech used a sharpie to draw dots all over his head. (What were we thinking? Yes, later in the day he was drawing on himself with a pen.) We could hear another overtired child crying in the next room. But Ethan was all giggles.
Being so tired, I thought he might get upset at the probes and then the wrapping of his head, but does he look like he minds? I know if I was that tired, and lying in a bed, I would not be so happy.
Once he was wired, they dimmed the lights and he cozied up to sleep. Then the strob light began flashing in his eyes. He grinned the whole time.
Once the strob light stopped, Ethan fell fast asleep. He was monitored for 10 minutes. Then he had to be woken up. The whole time, I tried to imagine how I would feel if I had to endure this type of testing. Sleep deprivation, flashing lights, finally peaceful sleep-only to be awakened after 10 minutes. Ethan was a trooper. He awoke smiling, as if he'd had a full nights sleep. He didn't even fall back asleep on the drive home. I wish I could have his happy disposition with so little sleep.
What about those who go without sleep for fun? Last night was prom. Sarabeth attended. The after prom party began at midnight. Double-decker buses drove them around to various activities, so if the kids were tired, they weren't allowed to go home early. They had to stay up until the buses arrived back at the school at 7:30 this morning. But that is another story. I'll post pics tomorrow of prom or late today after sleeping beauty wakes up.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Open Letter
Open Letter To Ethan's Father
Because you're his father, I thought I'd share with you that I took care of Ethan for more than 14 hours on Saturday. He was so cute when he woke up. He came walking out of the bedroom in his Power Ranger pajamas, wearing his backpack, and carrying the new sticker book I'd bought him.
I don't know if you realize it or not, but Ethan's been a bit off of late. The most likely reason is he's having more seizures. The medicine is not keeping them under control, but sometimes it's hard to tell.
Knowing it could be tricky keeping him entertained all day, I picked up 3 new items for when-all-else-fails-pull-out-a-suprise. He breezed through the new Power Ranger and sticker book. I had hoped the fancy new markers, that only worked on special paper, would last a little longer. I knew I was in trouble when he'd bitten the tips off of every one of them, & it wasn't even noon yet. We did have a long, fun, but exhausting day.
On Sunday, it was nice that you volunteered to take him to a movie. That is a pretty safe, easy activity. Two words of advice, though: Next time, could you provide snacks for the movie? Do you know you can actually purchase food at the theater? I realize you thought you were doing us a favor by taking him for a couple of hours. But how much easier would it be for you to get him something to eat before you came over? You had no one else to worry about but yourself. Secondly, it is most disturbing to watch you strap Ethan in his car seat, then walk back to the house to wait for the snacks to be made. My confidence in your ability to care for him wanes. Never leave him unattended.
When you returned 2 hours later, it was nice that you offered to watch Ethan while he drove his tractor. He was unhappy about having to come inside and really loves riding it. (The day before, he drove it until the battery died and had a meltdown when I plugged it in to recharge.)
But there are a few things I don't quite understand.
Yes, we have a creek running on the back of our property,
and it is running deep this time of year. I realize how fast Ethan can be and how quickly he can get to the water's edge. What I don't get is how he could have driven his tractor into the murkey water. You managed to pull him out, along with the water-logged tractor. You dragged them both all the way to the front of the house without ever saying anything.
Don't get me wrong. I am so grateful you were close enough to pull him out. I'm thankful his glasses were still intact. But afterwards, what were you doing? I looked out the kitchen window, where I was fixing dinner and saw you unchaining the dog. I thought Ethan looked dazed, before realizing he was dripping wet. I ran to the door and called to you, asking if Ethan was wet. All you said was yes and continued to fuss with the dog. As I rushed to Ethan, I didn't notice you were wet too. I questioned if he'd gone in the creek, and I again got an affirmative answer. I scooped up my confused & shivering grandson and hurried inside. I began removing his drenched clothing. I called to his grandpa for help.
Working quickly, we towel-dried him off and dressed him in warm clothes. Ethan's grandpa went to check on the tractor. I spoke with you afterwards. You didn't offer much information. I know your heart must have been pounding when the accident occurred. Like I said, I don't know how you were able to pull both him and the tractor out so quickly-or did you? You could have yelled for help. You could have straightaway brought Ethan into the house. But you didn't. Were you ashamed? Did you think I'd be angry or call you irresponsible? I did neither, but reassured you that it could have happened to any one of us. But I question your judgment in being more concerned with how you were perceived than in Ethan's well-being. That part I do not understand.
Ethan needs a father that can be trusted to look out for his best interest, who will keep him safe and protect him. The next time you come to pick him up, I will give thanks that he has just that kind of a father-thank-you Heavenly Father that you are the one I can trust to watch over Ethan.
Because you're his father, I thought I'd share with you that I took care of Ethan for more than 14 hours on Saturday. He was so cute when he woke up. He came walking out of the bedroom in his Power Ranger pajamas, wearing his backpack, and carrying the new sticker book I'd bought him.
I don't know if you realize it or not, but Ethan's been a bit off of late. The most likely reason is he's having more seizures. The medicine is not keeping them under control, but sometimes it's hard to tell.Knowing it could be tricky keeping him entertained all day, I picked up 3 new items for when-all-else-fails-pull-out-a-suprise. He breezed through the new Power Ranger and sticker book. I had hoped the fancy new markers, that only worked on special paper, would last a little longer. I knew I was in trouble when he'd bitten the tips off of every one of them, & it wasn't even noon yet. We did have a long, fun, but exhausting day.
On Sunday, it was nice that you volunteered to take him to a movie. That is a pretty safe, easy activity. Two words of advice, though: Next time, could you provide snacks for the movie? Do you know you can actually purchase food at the theater? I realize you thought you were doing us a favor by taking him for a couple of hours. But how much easier would it be for you to get him something to eat before you came over? You had no one else to worry about but yourself. Secondly, it is most disturbing to watch you strap Ethan in his car seat, then walk back to the house to wait for the snacks to be made. My confidence in your ability to care for him wanes. Never leave him unattended.
When you returned 2 hours later, it was nice that you offered to watch Ethan while he drove his tractor. He was unhappy about having to come inside and really loves riding it. (The day before, he drove it until the battery died and had a meltdown when I plugged it in to recharge.)
But there are a few things I don't quite understand.Yes, we have a creek running on the back of our property,
and it is running deep this time of year. I realize how fast Ethan can be and how quickly he can get to the water's edge. What I don't get is how he could have driven his tractor into the murkey water. You managed to pull him out, along with the water-logged tractor. You dragged them both all the way to the front of the house without ever saying anything.Don't get me wrong. I am so grateful you were close enough to pull him out. I'm thankful his glasses were still intact. But afterwards, what were you doing? I looked out the kitchen window, where I was fixing dinner and saw you unchaining the dog. I thought Ethan looked dazed, before realizing he was dripping wet. I ran to the door and called to you, asking if Ethan was wet. All you said was yes and continued to fuss with the dog. As I rushed to Ethan, I didn't notice you were wet too. I questioned if he'd gone in the creek, and I again got an affirmative answer. I scooped up my confused & shivering grandson and hurried inside. I began removing his drenched clothing. I called to his grandpa for help.
Working quickly, we towel-dried him off and dressed him in warm clothes. Ethan's grandpa went to check on the tractor. I spoke with you afterwards. You didn't offer much information. I know your heart must have been pounding when the accident occurred. Like I said, I don't know how you were able to pull both him and the tractor out so quickly-or did you? You could have yelled for help. You could have straightaway brought Ethan into the house. But you didn't. Were you ashamed? Did you think I'd be angry or call you irresponsible? I did neither, but reassured you that it could have happened to any one of us. But I question your judgment in being more concerned with how you were perceived than in Ethan's well-being. That part I do not understand.
Ethan needs a father that can be trusted to look out for his best interest, who will keep him safe and protect him. The next time you come to pick him up, I will give thanks that he has just that kind of a father-thank-you Heavenly Father that you are the one I can trust to watch over Ethan.
Monday, April 16, 2007
Paper or Plastic
Packing lunches is not my favorite thing. It is my own fault. I hear other moms tell of training their children to make their own lunches before school. I've heard what kids tuck into their lunch sacks.
(Driving home from the bus stop at the end of the day)
Kid 1-I'm starving! I didn't have time to make my lunch, so I had to grab an apple.
Kid 2-Well, at least you had something. There was nothing good at my house. I only had a bag of cheetos. I wish we'd had some cupcakes left.
Kid 1-Hilary, you're lucky. Your mom makes your lunch.
I try to be accomodating. I wouldn't want to eat a turkey sandwich every day for lunch and figure my kids are the same. Thinking back, I believe Christopher ate a sandwich, a yogurt, and a gatorade every day for an entire school year. I'd tuck in a dessert, or try to switch it up, but he'd let me know he really wanted these items to eat on a daily basis. So I'd give him egg salad, turkey, chicken salad, roast beef, salami...at least a variety of sandwiches-no repeats.
It gets tricky, though, trying to remember which child likes lettuce, who doesn't like cheese, strawberries with sugar to dip, but this one's allergic to strawberries. Sometimes I accidently put the salami sandwich in the lunch of the one who was supposed to get the turkey. Or I'd put the salad with ranch dressing in the italian dressing lovers lunch box. Thankfully, my kids are pretty forgiving.
The funny part is watching them through the years & their tastes in the packaging. By 4th or 5th grade, my oldest 2 would no longer take a lunch box. It wasn't cool. A small paper sack was fine, thank-you. I've never liked this transition. Firstly, as they cram that bag into their backpack I just know their sandwich is getting squished. I go to great lengths to pack a nice sandwich. I quit using bread to try making it less compact within those sacks. I use hearty sandwich rolls, but still...
I remember the sadness with which I packed my son's last lunch. I was overcome with the thought that I would never again make him his lunch. It wasn't as if he was moving out the on his last day of school his senior year, but it was the last time I'd lovingly pack it in that paper sack.
I don't recall Christina's last lunch. I think because she was the oldest and I was in a flurry with so many lunches that I didn't notice that last lunch. Elisabeth went to a private school her senior year. She was the only one who has had senior privileges to leave campus for lunch. I only made her lunch twice a week, so I missed her "very last lunch." Elisabeth carried a lunch box until high school. The "coolness" finally set in, and I had to be more careful with the sandwiches.
Sarabeth has always enjoyed picking out her lunch box. The past 3 years, it was a shiny, gold one from Old Navy. Gold is her favorite color. But as all good lunchboxes do, it finally had enough. Black was the new color of choice. It will be interesting to see if she chooses a new one for her senior year. Or whether or not she caves in to "coolness" and sports the ugly, brown, squishy, paper sack. She is pretty much her own person, so I suspect she will go for plastic.
Hilary, a freshman in high school, went for the ultimate in coolness. She chose a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle lunch box. But sadly, this week, they have lost their cool. I noticed the signs & should have seen it coming, but it snuck up on me. She asked if she could have the dreaded brown paper bag. I tried to protest. My biggest gripe now is they are making the sacks smaller, even though my lunches have become more creative. I try twice a week to pack a hot lunch into a nice silver thermos jar. Sarabeth loves it, maybe Hilary doesn't. I can't fit them into those sacks. I tried a larger produce sack, but that "was embarrassing." I was also informed she really needed a throw-away water bottle, as she didn't like having to save her lunch sack. No problem...at least not for her.
Last Friday, try as I might, I could not jam her lunch into that little sack-even if I left her water bottle out. I snatched the Turtles off of the fridge where they'd been hanging for awhile. I explained that she was going to have to take them again, but I handed her a sack that if she just couldn't be caught with a lunch box, SHE could figure out how to make it work.
Hilary came home from school "starving." Her lunch, packed neatly in the Turtles Box was left uneaten in the car. Did I mention how much I hate "coolness" and peer pressure?
(Driving home from the bus stop at the end of the day)
Kid 1-I'm starving! I didn't have time to make my lunch, so I had to grab an apple.
Kid 2-Well, at least you had something. There was nothing good at my house. I only had a bag of cheetos. I wish we'd had some cupcakes left.
Kid 1-Hilary, you're lucky. Your mom makes your lunch.
I try to be accomodating. I wouldn't want to eat a turkey sandwich every day for lunch and figure my kids are the same. Thinking back, I believe Christopher ate a sandwich, a yogurt, and a gatorade every day for an entire school year. I'd tuck in a dessert, or try to switch it up, but he'd let me know he really wanted these items to eat on a daily basis. So I'd give him egg salad, turkey, chicken salad, roast beef, salami...at least a variety of sandwiches-no repeats.
It gets tricky, though, trying to remember which child likes lettuce, who doesn't like cheese, strawberries with sugar to dip, but this one's allergic to strawberries. Sometimes I accidently put the salami sandwich in the lunch of the one who was supposed to get the turkey. Or I'd put the salad with ranch dressing in the italian dressing lovers lunch box. Thankfully, my kids are pretty forgiving.
The funny part is watching them through the years & their tastes in the packaging. By 4th or 5th grade, my oldest 2 would no longer take a lunch box. It wasn't cool. A small paper sack was fine, thank-you. I've never liked this transition. Firstly, as they cram that bag into their backpack I just know their sandwich is getting squished. I go to great lengths to pack a nice sandwich. I quit using bread to try making it less compact within those sacks. I use hearty sandwich rolls, but still...
I remember the sadness with which I packed my son's last lunch. I was overcome with the thought that I would never again make him his lunch. It wasn't as if he was moving out the on his last day of school his senior year, but it was the last time I'd lovingly pack it in that paper sack.
I don't recall Christina's last lunch. I think because she was the oldest and I was in a flurry with so many lunches that I didn't notice that last lunch. Elisabeth went to a private school her senior year. She was the only one who has had senior privileges to leave campus for lunch. I only made her lunch twice a week, so I missed her "very last lunch." Elisabeth carried a lunch box until high school. The "coolness" finally set in, and I had to be more careful with the sandwiches.
Sarabeth has always enjoyed picking out her lunch box. The past 3 years, it was a shiny, gold one from Old Navy. Gold is her favorite color. But as all good lunchboxes do, it finally had enough. Black was the new color of choice. It will be interesting to see if she chooses a new one for her senior year. Or whether or not she caves in to "coolness" and sports the ugly, brown, squishy, paper sack. She is pretty much her own person, so I suspect she will go for plastic.
Hilary, a freshman in high school, went for the ultimate in coolness. She chose a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle lunch box. But sadly, this week, they have lost their cool. I noticed the signs & should have seen it coming, but it snuck up on me. She asked if she could have the dreaded brown paper bag. I tried to protest. My biggest gripe now is they are making the sacks smaller, even though my lunches have become more creative. I try twice a week to pack a hot lunch into a nice silver thermos jar. Sarabeth loves it, maybe Hilary doesn't. I can't fit them into those sacks. I tried a larger produce sack, but that "was embarrassing." I was also informed she really needed a throw-away water bottle, as she didn't like having to save her lunch sack. No problem...at least not for her.
Last Friday, try as I might, I could not jam her lunch into that little sack-even if I left her water bottle out. I snatched the Turtles off of the fridge where they'd been hanging for awhile. I explained that she was going to have to take them again, but I handed her a sack that if she just couldn't be caught with a lunch box, SHE could figure out how to make it work.
Hilary came home from school "starving." Her lunch, packed neatly in the Turtles Box was left uneaten in the car. Did I mention how much I hate "coolness" and peer pressure?
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Spring
I walk across the soft, green grass in the bright sunlight.
Achoo.
Yellow daffodils & pink tulips display themselves brilliantly.
Sniffle.
Apple trees with their delicate, white blooms stand out against the bright blue sky.
Eyes itch, water, and swell.
Spring in all its splendor, is best viewed from inside.
Achoo.
Yellow daffodils & pink tulips display themselves brilliantly.
Sniffle.
Apple trees with their delicate, white blooms stand out against the bright blue sky.
Eyes itch, water, and swell.
Spring in all its splendor, is best viewed from inside.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Final Move
Yesterday was the last part of the move. Since Sunday, bits & pieces, then boxes & furniture were moved into the tiny apartment. The remaining big item was the bed. Once the bed was put into place, it meant they weren't coming coming home again.
Home has been my place for the past 5 weeks. As nice as it is, I'm sure it felt like they were living in someone else's house. They had a few items, like their clothes and a shared computer, but most of their belongings were still in Arizona.
The entry way and lobby is grand.
I could hear the pianist as I entered. I looked at my watch, 11:45. Yep! Today's events mentioned a pianist at 11:30-noon. A lively rendition of Amazing Grace resounded from the keys.
We wrestled the mattress and box springs from the truck to the 3rd story-thankful for the elevator. (Not like the 3rd story move with Christopher.) After making the bed, we all looked around. It looked very much like their home back in Phoenix. Even Poncho was there to watch over their doorstep, keeping an eye on Mr. Bear.
The unpacking was nearly finished, aside from a couple of suitcases. The pictures would be hung and everything tidied up, but it was beginning to look like home.
Michael and I had lunch with them in the dining hall.
It was delicious. That evening was a Wine & Candlelight dinner, complete with a strolling violinist & Prime Rib. I wanted to come back for that, but figured it would be nice for the two of them to enjoy. It would also give them a chance to get to know their neighbors. I hope they had a lovely time.
We will miss having them here every day, but it isn't like they won't be here for dinner tonight. Besides, when I turn 70, I'm moving in with them.
Home has been my place for the past 5 weeks. As nice as it is, I'm sure it felt like they were living in someone else's house. They had a few items, like their clothes and a shared computer, but most of their belongings were still in Arizona.
The entry way and lobby is grand.
I could hear the pianist as I entered. I looked at my watch, 11:45. Yep! Today's events mentioned a pianist at 11:30-noon. A lively rendition of Amazing Grace resounded from the keys.We wrestled the mattress and box springs from the truck to the 3rd story-thankful for the elevator. (Not like the 3rd story move with Christopher.) After making the bed, we all looked around. It looked very much like their home back in Phoenix. Even Poncho was there to watch over their doorstep, keeping an eye on Mr. Bear.
The unpacking was nearly finished, aside from a couple of suitcases. The pictures would be hung and everything tidied up, but it was beginning to look like home.
Michael and I had lunch with them in the dining hall.
It was delicious. That evening was a Wine & Candlelight dinner, complete with a strolling violinist & Prime Rib. I wanted to come back for that, but figured it would be nice for the two of them to enjoy. It would also give them a chance to get to know their neighbors. I hope they had a lovely time.We will miss having them here every day, but it isn't like they won't be here for dinner tonight. Besides, when I turn 70, I'm moving in with them.
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Monday, April 02, 2007
Gotcha
Yesterday, we were enjoying a lovely Sunday afternoon. I was busy wrapping a few gifts. Christina's 26th birthday is Thursday and we were having her birthday dinner that night. I almost always wrap gifts in my bedroom, and this was no different. Elisabeth was sitting on my bed chatting and helping wrap when she received a text message.
"Mom, did you talk to Christopher?"
"No, why?"
"You mean you didn't get a text message from him?"
"Well, I don't know. I don't carry my phone from room-to-room. Do you know something that I should know?"
"He just sent me a text that reads 'Sweet! My car was just totaled."
"What?" I ran to find my phone. Sure enough. There was the same text message. I quickly sent him the same response I'd given Elisabeth: "What?"
I didn't wait even a second and sent him a second message, "Call me." Then I wondered what I was doing sending text messages. For all I knew he was standing in the middle of the road with his car in a million pieces. Was he ok? He should probably be checked out at the hospital anyway. I dialed his number.
"Hi mom, what are you doing?"
"Well, wrapping presents for your sister's birthday dinner. You know her birthday is this Thursday. So what is going on??????"
Silence.
Then laughter.
"April Fools Mom!"
I told him he really had me going and then he made me promise to not give it away since he'd sent that text message to everyone.
"Did you send it to Lauren?" (That is his girlfriend.)
"No, I really wanted to still be alive tomorrow." (Smart man.) It's a good thing he is a thousand miles away.
The funniest part was when Hilary came up the stairs asking about this mysterious message. I am NOT a good liar, so I sent her to ask her father. He had not seen the message. His first response was, "I sure hope it wasn't his fault." He went back outside to finish up the yard work. We watched from the window as his phone rang. Christopher was calling to finish up the fool's business. After a few moments we saw Michael burst into laughter with threats of getting even next year.
Ahhhh...we have a whole year to plan our revenge. Feel free to share your ideas.
"Mom, did you talk to Christopher?"
"No, why?"
"You mean you didn't get a text message from him?"
"Well, I don't know. I don't carry my phone from room-to-room. Do you know something that I should know?"
"He just sent me a text that reads 'Sweet! My car was just totaled."
"What?" I ran to find my phone. Sure enough. There was the same text message. I quickly sent him the same response I'd given Elisabeth: "What?"
I didn't wait even a second and sent him a second message, "Call me." Then I wondered what I was doing sending text messages. For all I knew he was standing in the middle of the road with his car in a million pieces. Was he ok? He should probably be checked out at the hospital anyway. I dialed his number.
"Hi mom, what are you doing?"
"Well, wrapping presents for your sister's birthday dinner. You know her birthday is this Thursday. So what is going on??????"
Silence.
Then laughter.
"April Fools Mom!"
I told him he really had me going and then he made me promise to not give it away since he'd sent that text message to everyone.
"Did you send it to Lauren?" (That is his girlfriend.)
"No, I really wanted to still be alive tomorrow." (Smart man.) It's a good thing he is a thousand miles away.
The funniest part was when Hilary came up the stairs asking about this mysterious message. I am NOT a good liar, so I sent her to ask her father. He had not seen the message. His first response was, "I sure hope it wasn't his fault." He went back outside to finish up the yard work. We watched from the window as his phone rang. Christopher was calling to finish up the fool's business. After a few moments we saw Michael burst into laughter with threats of getting even next year.
Ahhhh...we have a whole year to plan our revenge. Feel free to share your ideas.
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