Or Maybe If a Guy was Walking Along and He Tripped, and He Hit his Head on a Rock and He Wasn't Dead, But You Knew He Was Going to Die, I Could Probably Start Eating Him. But If He Woke Up I'd Stop, cuz I Figure, Hey, That's Normal Human Etiquette and I'm Not Crossing That Line for Anybody

Yesterday I was driving to a friends house with Ash and Alexa in the backseat.

"Mama!" Ash said, thinking of something else to say. "Did you know some people...um, some people eat...people without knives or forks?"

I paused, not quite sure what she was saying. Ash is speaking in the typical five-year-old dialect, where there are long pauses in the middle of sentences and sometimes she starts the sentence over again in the middle of the sentence. Most of the time it's not hard to understand, but in this case the wording made a difference.  Was she talking about cannibals or poor table manners? "Um...what?"

"Did you know some people eat...um, people without knives or forks?"

"Some people eat without knives or forks?"

"Yes! They eat people without knives or forks!"

I paused again, trying to decipher what she was trying to say, at the same time wondering where in the world this was coming from.  "People eat people?"

"Without knives or forks."

"People eat without knives or forks?"

"People eat PEOPLE without knives or forks/"

"Are you saying people eat other people? Humans eating humans?"

"Yes. Did you know that?"

"Uh...."   I would like to remind everyone that my daughter is five years and two weeks old. "Who told you that?"

"Maile told me. She said people eat people without knives or forks."

Ah, the influence of an older cousin. So, in a car, driving to a friend's house, I got to have a conversation with my five year old about cannibalism. And how it's wrong. And we don't eat people. Not with forks and knives, not without forks and knives. It's an important conversation to have with your children?

I've Heard It Both Ways

Two weeks ago, on the 8th of September, Alexa and I picked Ash up from school and drove to an appointment with a speech therapist. Ash just needs a few sessions to clear up her pronunciation. Because this was out first appointment, and I didn't know how long it would take to pick up Ash from school and then drive out to the appointment, we arrived about thirty minutes early. We checked in and sat down to wait.

After twenty minutes, my phone rang. As soon as I picked it up and heard the "hello" on the other end, I knew something was very wrong. It was our dear friend, Amy calling. Her mother, our Bubba, had had a seizure or a stoke and had been taken to the hospital by ambulance. Amy was calling to tell me that the last thing her mother said to her was for her to call me and ask for a blessing. I talked to her for a few minutes, said I would send Drek over to the hospital for the blessing, and I would be right there to pick Amy up and take her back to our house.

I apologized to the women at the front desk and told them I had to cancel my appointment. I then packed Ash and Sera back into the car, all while trying to call Drek, who wasn't answering his phone. I then called Bubba's home teacher, and explained to him what had happened. I asked him if he and Drek could go to the hospital and give Bubba a blessing. He said he would jump in the car right then and pick Drek up on his way.

Once again I called Drek, who didn't answer. I then started the car and started to drive home. Ash asked why we were going home and why she wasn't going to her speech therapy. I explained that Bubba was sick and an ambulance had taken her to the hospital and we needed to go pick up Amy, right after we stopped off at home and explained to Daddy that he had two seconds to change clothes before Bubba's home teacher picked him up and took him to the hospital to give Bubba a blessing. Ash asked a few questions about Bubba, and I kept driving while answering them.

My phone rang. Glancing at the caller ID I saw that it was not Drek, but my wonderful sister. I answered, and in a sleepy voice she said "Hi. I'm sorry your friend is sick."

I paused, mind reeling, trying to figure out what my sister was talking about. Had I posted something about a sick friend? Not in the five minutes since I found out about Bubba, surely.

"Um...What?"

"Your friend that went to the hospital today. I'm sorry."

Holy guacamole beans, my sister is psychic.  "Wow. I just found out myself. How did you know that?"

My sister laughed. "You  called me just now. I heard you telling Ash. Did you not mean to call me?"

Mystery solved.  In the meantime, Drek had still not answered his phone. He was busy working away, when there was a knock on the door. He answered, and was surprised to find Bubba's home teacher standing there, in a suit and tie, asking if he was ready to go to the hospital. Naturally, Drek thought I had crashed the car and his whole family was in the hospital trying to get a hold of him.

I turned down the road just a minute later, saw Bubba's home teacher was already there, turned around and picked up Amy. Three minutes later we were pulling on to our driveway, just as Drek, in a suit and tie, was getting into the car with Bubba's home teacher, still trying to understand what had happened.

But everything has turned out ok. Bubba is out of the hospital. She is recovering well thus far, I don't actually have a psychic sister, although sometimes she can read my mind, and Drek has taken to answering his phone the first time I call.

And Over Here, We Have the Cafeteria, Where We Were Mauled by Snakes.

This evening I was on our desktop computer and talking to Drek at the same time, who was standing to the side. Suddenly Drek froze, then very calmly said "how about you back away from the..." 

I had already pushed off of the desk and my rolling office chair was halfway across the room. I was sure there was some giant spider. 

But it wasn't. Drek, out of the corner of his eye, had seen one of the computer cables move. And keep moving. He grabbed some kitchen tongs, I grabbed a bucket and a few minutes later: 

We decided it was a baby gopher snake. Non-venomous, and they don't even bite. besides, this one was just a baby and the poor thing was so scared! We took him out and put him in our raspberry bushes, where I'm hoping he will live up to his name and eat gophers. Or, until he's a bit bigger, maybe he'll eat giant spiders. I'd keep in the house if he promised to eat the spiders.