Sunday, June 04, 2006


Dear Regional Protection Services Company,

Please accept this letter as an addendum to forms 8a & 9c that I will be submitting shortly. I would like to apply for a Personal Bodyguard under section 14 of the Charitable Cases Act, Inevitable Endangerment Clause 801e. I believe that without assistance from your organization, I am likely to soon be bumped off by my children, or I will be seriously maimed or need lifelong institutionalization. In order to speed up the application process, I will explain in this letter the evidence that supports my claim.

On the morning of June 3rd, 2006, my husband was at work. I was in the bathroom, completing some necessary business, while my children, aged 2 (twins) were pounding on the door to receive admittance to said bathroom. My son, age 4, yelled at them from the other room to "leave mommy alone while she's on the can" and then proceeded to saunter over and push them out of the way so that HE could demand that I let HIM in. There was much cajoling and whining and banging and knob twisting when I politely told him to go back to the living room and watch the end of Dora (a TV show for young children) so that I could finish my business.

He walked away, leaving the twins to continue pulling on the door until there was a BANG. Suddenly it was silent. I hastily leapt to my feet and ran to see what had happened, and when I grabbed the door knob, it came off in my hand. Turns out, the other end with the "stick part" attached to it had fallen to the floor in the hallway (the bang sound).

Trapped in the bathroom, I called for my 4-yr-old to come to assist. Surely he would be coordinated enough to put the knob back through the hole. His reply?

"Wait mommy, Dora's not over!"

As luck would have it, this was a can't miss DORA SPECIAL. The twins were now on the other side of the door, giggling and obviously playing with my door knob, so I tried to explain to them what to do. They did not understand, and this was about when the fight broke out, both of them wanting possession of the knob. Suddenly, there was shoving and screaming and "THAT'S MINE!" and "NOOOOO!" and then running feet. When the 4-yr-old finally made it over to the bathroom and I told him what needed to be done, he said.

"Ok. I see the hole. But what doorknob?"

Seems that my daughter had won the war for the knob, and had torn off to find a place to hide it from her twin brother. After a futile search for something long and skinny to put through the hole, I told my 4-yr old to pull his brother away from the door so that I could put some weight on it and force it open. This was when my 2-yr-old son threw himself at the foot of the door, shreiking because his mommy STILL wouldn't let him visit her in the bathroom. My elder son couldn't move his dead, angry, sobbing, uncooperative weight.

So, I told my elder son to go find that &%$#*@ doorknob.

He went to do my bidding, and soon I heard screaming, more running & a violent interrogation going on in the other room. By now I had a hernia and a pain in my skull that I am certain was some sort of stress-induced aneurysm. I tried to encourage my crying 2-yr-old to go get a toy, something, anything, to get him away from the door so I could force it open. No luck.

The fight in the living room was rising to a crescendo at this point, so I sat down on the bathroom floor, put one hand under the door to "hold" it while I began to force it open with my foot. My 2-yr-old saw my fingers under the door and started to laugh and play with my fingers. Luckily, the mass of fighting children came down the hall and my youngest son jumped into it, thinking it was "fun", and they all continued down to the nursery. That was my chance to give the door the kick I had been meaning to and I did it. The door flew open and I took off after the kids, broke up the fight, assuaged the offended parties, and noticed that my daughter had a huge bulbous door-knob shaped item in her pants.

I sat the struggling child down and excavated until I found the desired item when suddenly she broke free and sprang up and smashed me in the cheekbone, full force, with her head. I fell to the ground. I saw stars. It felt like I had been punched by Bruce Lee. I think my tooth is loose.

I believe my bodyguard will arrive by Monday. Otherwise, expect my displeasure.

Best Regards,



At 7:28 PM , Blogger Kimberly said...

Holy Crap!

I don't think that John Hughes could have written a better scene! But I bet kicking that door open felt awfully good!

Hope your bodyguard is a hottie...with big muscles!

At 7:35 AM , Blogger Motherkitty said...

That's what happens when you wish to visit the crapper for five seconds of quiet time to take care of business. Haven't you learned by now that mommies aren't allowed any private time in their lives until 18 years have passed (after their births)? Your story sounds like "The Perils of Pauline (Frannie)." You didn't get run over by a train, you got run over by a two-year-old. I hope your tooth is not loose and you didn't suffer a concussion.

I'll be rooting for you until your bodyguard arrives.

At 11:12 AM , Blogger bornfool said...

Are you going to take the body guard in the bathroom with you? lol. Great story. Sorry, but it's funny.

At 5:49 PM , Blogger jellyhead said...

Oh wow! That is one hell of a good story. Your application is certain to be successful.

I can hardly believe you kicked the door down! I always imagine that would require superhuman strength....which you evidently have!

Hope you've had a much better time since that fateful day!

At 6:05 PM , Blogger Heather said...

Thanks for making me laugh! Hope your cheekbone is feeling better!

At 9:15 PM , Blogger Franny said...

Hey all,

I saw a door-kick episode on "Mythbusters" on TV: you have to give a firm kick just next to the knob, and aim for "behind" the door! It's all in the follow-through. Now you know...LOL

Also, thanks for your sympathy. It helps. The pain is now radiating down my left arm and to the other side of my face. My daughter has a career waiting for her in law enforcement or Jeet Kune Do.

If I ever get a bodyguard, he better be sexy AND stupid.

At 8:42 PM , Blogger Abandoned in Pasadena said...

Franny...don't you know that you can't lock the bathroom door when the kids are little. As soon as you lock the door this is when they just HAVE TO SEE YOU RIGHT NOW! It can't wait!!
I hope your cheek is not supporting a bruise and that your tooth has tightened up. And be kind to the new Body Guard.


Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home