Monday, February 11, 2008

There will be blood....

My joy knows no bounds. It is almost Girl Scout Cookie season. This is a special holiday at our house and helps us get through the February doldrums fat and happy. As it should be. (That's what I tell people)

Happiness is also at an all time high around here because Josiah is home. Yes, the Puppet Master is back and directing everyone around him. It is a beautiful thing.
He and Amy decided to move into an apartment together.
Wow.
Yes, I am aware that he used to shove her into the dryer and threaten to turn it on.
I remember how he would chase her with a laundry basket, cover her with it and not let her up until she began to scream. *see below.
I know. She used to tattle on him for.Every.Single.Thing.He.Ever.Did.
True, it probably saved her life on occasion. But still.
And Amy has this screech like a pterodactyl calling it's young to feed that she lets loose for no real reason a few times a day. We are so proud.
When they said they were going to get a place together and I had finished laughing,the seething fear set in. I could hear a calm voice, my voice apparently, saying," Great idea. Go for it." Encouraging words. Words of false hope. Outside I am a picture of cheerful optimism. Inside I am quickly and efficiently donning my flak jacket, night goggles and helmet. Because, truth be told, there will be blood.

For though my memory is getting spotty, I do remember my two children, sworn mortal enemies screaming at each other as they fought to the death over a box of Fruity Pebbles.
So the headlines I imagine follow this vein: "Suspicious deaths being investigated. Woman found stuffed in dryer. Man apparently pecked to death by giant bird."

Over the weekend I helped the kids begin moving into their new place. Let me tell you, Amy and I had a blast carrying heavy boxes across deep snow covered with a slickery layer of ice. Good times. Rod can't help because he still has Bubonic Plague the flu rendering him next to useless on Moving Day. It doesn't count that we could hear him coughing up a lung in encouragement as we trudged back and forth from house to car with our heavy loads. The special Moving Day cupcakes I made helped significantly. Red velvet with cream cheese frosting. Decadent. Festive. You can thank me later.

As we hefted the boxes up the flight of stairs to the new place, I noticed the nice neighbors, smiling benignly at us. Someone should warn them what was coming. "I'm sorry," I say with a meaningful stare at an elderly man as I accidentally bumped into him with an extra large box. I willed him with my eyes to understand the code(which meant "Run as though Alien AND Predator were chasing you down! And you are on fire!") I was trying to convey, but he just chuckled and continued down the sidewalk. I obviously have to work on my silent communication skillz.
So I was completely unprepared for my sense of wonder and joy, (yes joy!) I felt when I brought up Amy's boxes of shoes (how many shoes can a girl have? Please, don't look in my closet. Besides, we were moving HER shoes, not mine) and assorted towels and bathroom items.
There was Josiah arranging his things in his room. They showed me around their small, yet spacious, place with obvious pride. I loved it. Especially the eating area with two big windows to let in the afternoon light. Oh, and the 50 inch plasma television. My word.
Their rooms are kitty corner to each other, just like when they were little kids. I started to get a warm glow in my heart.
Later that night I came by with some kitchen supplies and Nyquil for Josiah, who wasn't feeling great. There were a few friends over visiting the new place and commenting on the size of the deck and what household items were still needed. Josiah invited me to stay as he was having our favorite pizza delivered. Everything was low key and relaxed. I felt welcome and at home because this was Josiah and Amy's apartment, and they are my kids, and we all love each other. I needed to leave quickly before the weird cry/laugh thing that I have mastered began. But it was all so GOOD. I could heave a huge sigh of relief that peace will reign.
I came home to see sickie Rod and make him a nice healthy dinner. We ate, then watched a western. It was fabulous. I could lock the door because I wasn't listening for anyone to come home late. I knew where both the kids were and we could R-E-L-A-X.
Then the phone rang. It was Amy in full pterodactyl mode, thanking us (sarcastically) for getting Josiah Rock Band for Christmas and concerned(read: scared out of her mind) that they would get evicted on their second night there. She asked us to talk to him. I could hear Josiah in the background "singing" loudly as his friend Joey helpfully played the drums. At their new apartment. Next to their new neighbors.
I thought about it. Then I rolled over and went to sleep. By the way, I haven't read the headline this morning. Is there anything that I should be aware of?

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