~ 1 ~
We’ve had a crazy week. As far as I’m concerned, it’s pretty much assured that you will have a crazy week when you are awaken bright and early on a Monday morning by your kids saying, “We smell something burning.”
That’s never good, is it?
It was a horrible burning plastic smell that kept getting better and worse. I finally called Eric to ask him to come home and look, but in the mean time, it got worse and I had already decided I would call the fire department unless Eric found where the smell was coming from, since I couldn’t find it. He couldn’t find it, so we did, indeed, have to call 911.
It was bizarre to listen to sirens coming, know they were for our house, and to be able to be fairly calm about it. (We even got to warn some of our neighbors that were outside.)
~ 2 ~
The fire fighters came, inspected, chatted with us, but left without finding the source. Eric went back to work, and then proceeded to not get home until 9:30 pm because of a work dinner meeting.
Upon returning home, he figured out that it was our refrigerator! (It had likely been killed by a power outage we had the night before.) We were left wishing it was the microwave like we had suspected earlier in the day.
(By the time we figured it out, the temperature was 50 degrees inside our refrigerator.)
Before we called 911, we actually had a discussion about whether we should have been calling a non-emergency phone number instead. But, since we could only find a non-emergency police number, we had decided to call 911.
When Eric was getting ready to leave to go back to work and we were talking about some lunch stuff, as well as the fire department, I said to him (well, basically), “555-5600,” just off the top of my head.
“Is that the non-emergency number?”
“Well, I guess,” I said, with a smirk. “You know, if your non-emergency is that you need a Papa’s John’s pizza.”
Sadly, I have the Papa John’s phone number memorized. Not because we eat there often (or ever), but because they used to have $4 pizzas when we were in college and we lived right by it. (And the number is one that I have a silly mathematical way of remembering, as it obviously isn’t the one I listed here.)
“So, it’s pizza for lunch?” Eric asked.
“Yep – seems like it,” I said with the morning wasted, the microwave now sitting on the back porch, and our dining room lights in the garage. (Those were both items we thought could be culprits of the smell, when we couldn’t exactly pinpoint where it was coming from.)
~ 4 ~
When I was really beat one late afternoon this week, I told everyone that I needed to take a quick nap on the couch. I asked Molly to be my Mommy (kids love that stuff) and to get me a blanket and pillow, please.
She giggled about it as she tucked me in. And, when I say she tucked me in, she really worked to tuck the blanket all around me. I tried to squirm around, just to make her giggle some more. I also asked for kisses, and then claimed to not remember them so she would give me more.
Finally, she tucked me some more and then declared, “There! Now you’re my spicy tuna roll.”
Eric and I both burst out laughing. Not only has she never eaten a spicy tuna roll, but neither have we. That girl is such a hoot! (And, as a bonus, we’re now calling each other spicy tuna rolls.)
~ 5 ~
I started calling her my Veggie California Roll. After just a couple of times, she looked at me with a wild gleam in her eyes, “I’d have wasabi in me, because I’m spicy.”
~ 6 ~
This week, we went to Reconciliation. I have yet to go to Reconciliation where I didn’t feel like I might vomit beforehand. I like the feeling of having gone, but I always get nervous about going.
I just shared about what Noah (our son with Autism) had to say about what he was praying after his penance over at The Homeschool Classroom. (I know, that sounds convoluted to post about it there, but just trust me. )
~ 7 ~
While I was in Reconciliation, one of my confessions started with me saying, “I was bad mouthing the man behind me in line to our children…”
Our priest said, “Oh! So, Eric’s next in line?”
To which I probably inappropriately giggled, said “Yep,” and then looked around the priest to smile and wave at Eric. (This made Eric sigh and shake his head at me.)
Don’t worry – I take the Sacrament very seriously. But, both our priest and Jesus (and Eric too!) know that’s just how I roll. I always like to think that Jesus looks down at me throughout the day and smiles like you do when your kids do something that’s crazy silly, shakes His head, and says, “That’s my Angie.”