Friday, August 11, 2006

Danger Mom and the Heart-Attack Five

I think I swallowed my heart about a dozen times this week. The following stories are taken from the real-life adventures of Danger Mom and the Heart-Attack Five (aka me and my family):

The Meatballs of Danger

My oldest son opens the front door to see if daddy is still mowing the lawn, and accidentally lets my youngest son, who is 2, out the door. (Oh, and he neglects to tell me that his little brother has just left the premises because he is afraid I'll get "mad" because I told him not to open the door in the first place, so instead he just quietly shuts the door and hopes this problem will go away on its own.) I am in the kitchen frying up meatballs during all of this. Ten mins later, I decide to truck it to the loo, and I walk by the living room and something is funny.

Can't put my finger on it...something is wierd here...something is, everything is fine, there's my oldest son and my daughter, playing in the livingroom...ummm, headcount...that's one, two...umm...I don't think two is enough. I think I have three kids...OMG...I DO have three kids! And, there are only TWO kids here...ARGH!

So I run frantically through the house, looking for the missing kid, searching closets and cupboards and under beds, and this is when my oldest son volunteers that he went OUTSIDE. I fly outside screaming my block off, (ready to start a neighborhood search) and to the backyard where my husband is mowing the lawn. And there is my son, playing on the playset. And his father didn't even know he was there b/c we have a huge yard, and what with the lawnmower noise, etc. Thank God the backyard gate had been open, or who knows where my little boy would have ended up, looking for a place to play.


The Bus of Doom

Leaving work at 9pm after the evening shift, I am driving home, same route I always take.

Dum de dum...nothing on the radio, stupid radio stations...oh look, there's that house that's for sale that I like...maybe I'll buy it when I win the big one...oh here's the light, turning red, better stop...yep, stopping would be good...ummm...stop car...BRAKE please...BRAKES....NO BRAKES! BRAKE DAMMIT!!!!! ARGH CAN'T STOP, GONNA DIE, SHOULDA-GOT-THAT-DAMN-LIFE-INSURANCE-BECAUSE-THERE'S-A-CITY-BUS-WITH-MY-NAME-ON-IT!

I manage to stop, both feet on the brake, in the MIDDLE of the intersection. The big bus, thankfully, beat me through. I get home, (very slowly), shaking in my sneakers, and tell my husband what happened. He thoughtfully nods and hugs me and says "come to think of it, the brakes were acting a bit funny the last coupla days". Needless to say, our car is currently in the shop.


The Parking Lot of Disaster

Loading kids again, long tiring shopping trip, can't wait to get home, OH PLEASE stop wriggling you little monsters so I can buckle you in...good, done, one, two, three in, off we go -SLAM- OH THAT FRIGGIN HURT! ARGH! Smashed my head on the roof of the van...look at all the pretty little birdies flying around my head...ha ha ha...hey what's that screaming...oh, my son's finger is stuck in the clothing hanging thingy...hold on honey...mommy is experiencing slurred speech and blurred vision...just a mild concussion, really...must free child...must stop giggling...hey why is someone rifling through the box of Little Debbie Snack Cakes? Didn't I just buckle you in, you little escape artist? Hey, where am I, what was I doing? Oh yeah, freeing screaming no no, dizzy euphoria is evolving into ringing pain...where's the friggin Advil?

(I did eventually get everyone settled and happy using my daughter's idea of cracking open the Snack Cakes. It was a blissfully quiet and tasty, ride home.)


At 10:47 AM , Blogger Motherkitty said...

Gadzooks, Frannie, it's a good thing you wrote all these disasters down (so you didn't forget). Do you still have your sanity? These little stories remind us of why we had kids in the first place, because we're masochists and love collecting "weird" stories to tell all our blogging friends. Makes for an interesting read.

The most unusual thing that has happened in our neck of the woods is that it stormed two afternoons in a row. We got to see a lot of lightning strikes and our neighbor's tree fell down. Nothing as glorious as what happened to you or as white-knuckled as your brake job.

At 11:02 AM , Blogger Abandoned in Pasadena said...

Franny...are you okay? Good Golly things seem to be happening to you left and right. What's happend to your guardian he on vacation? *LOL*
Well...all turned out okay, so I guess he just wasn't looking or was just having a hard time keeping up with you and your little family.

At 5:26 PM , Blogger jellyhead said...

Three small, very active kids...Franny, how do you do it? You are a marvel!

Great Tales of Terror!

At 5:35 PM , Blogger Kimberly said...

this is gonna make a great book one day! then you can laugh as you cash your mega royalty checks!

At 9:50 PM , Blogger Andrew said...

RE the meatballs of danger:
I hate that feeling. We had a fright one day when our son was small (maybe 2 or 3?) He was playing, got tired and curled up for a sleep ... in his closet, with the door closed. We searched everywhere and were close to panic before we found him. All's well that ends well.

To Love, Honor and Dismay


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