Priceless

Yeh, it just ain't workin' out too well for me. Friday, after my well-deserved hour long nap, went by like a flash. Jason made a trip to the grocery and returned with goodies galore, including a super large DiMaggio's pepperoni, bacon, and ham. I know it's already been covered, but he's the man! Laundry continued, dishes commenced and before I knew it the house was back to liveable. Subsequently, I was exhausted.

As the pace began to slow, fearing efforts would completely stall, I pleaded that all the trash be gathered up and taken to the garage AND that we at least start packing - 'cause I knew I'd be in no shape to help him at 5 in the morning. He obliged with the trash request realizing anything left out ran the very good chance of being ravaged by a pitbull. The packing, on the other hand, did not go as swimmingly. But it did at least go, and get done.

5 in the morning came fast. He woke me for a kiss goodbye. A couple trips to the potty later I noticed Asa awake watching 'Kick Buttowski' a little after 7. He wanted to stay and finish the show, but I headed on down worried Jason may have forgotten to take out Gooch. So I had a little Dell time before Asa joined me. Abel wasn't too far behind him. We had a pretty good day just me and my boys. Wii, Netflix, wrestling. Nothin' really worth writing home about or should I say blogging home about.

Breakfast of snacks, deep dish pizza lunchables for lunch and left over Dimaggios for supper. Then as quick as my confidence about handling Jason being away began to grow my motion sensing light out back took it all away. Although barefoot, for best traction, I still fell. I'd gotten just far enough from the house that when the light went out I had nothing to hold on to.

At first I walked toward the sliver of light coming from the living room. Then I gravitated toward the white dog-like figured slinking toward me. Alas, Gooch could be my guide dog. I was gonna be okay. No! I wasn't even THAT far from the house. I had just been a bit disoriented with the ominous lack of light. "Go to the light, Carolanne!!!"

Wham! There's the floor. I found it. Lucky for me I hadn't closed the screen door behind me as per my dear husbands orders. If I had shut said screen door behind me, said screen door would at this time cease to exist. I'm just sayin' - dumb luck - divine intervention - whatever. It was a blessing my eyes opened to carpet.

I could have fell thru and torn the screen door to oblivion. And although I would have needed quite a bit more momentum, I could have come thru the glass door. Or not. It's a door made in the 60s that I'm not positive would even crack if the old oak outside decided he wanted in. That said, if I'd have slammed into it I most likely would have been thrown backwards, possibly even knocked unconscious. Worse yet could have been a fall anywhere else in my yard. And that my friends is why me and Gooch never venture too far. Back to the story . . .

As I'm falling in, our escape artist cat is darting out -- Abel hot on his trail 'til he discovers the patio is wet and its pitch black out there. He returns crying about his cat and as I pull myself up to a sitting position on the floor (all the while thanking God I had fallen unscathed in the house), I look around to discover Asa, also unscathed and even unaffected, resting on the loveseat watching a now annoyingly loud cartoon.

As Abel's cries strengthened I decided Asa's indecisiveness in the matter just wouldn't do. I couldn't help that Asa's cat was smarter (or dumber depending on how you look at it)than Abel's, but what I could do was get him involved. I screamed his name to snap him out of what I have come to call "Spindler Syndrome." Their papa and dad suffer from this phenomenon too. Maybe after CCSVI is conquered I will campaign to have "Spindler Syndrome" recognized by the medical community too.

A disorder involving tunnel vision and hearing loss, this phenomenon may occur at any time, but tends to be more prevelent during certain TV programs or whilst gaming of any kind, i.e. arcade machines, Wii, GameBoy, DS. During an exacerbation, the so-called victim cannot see or hear anything outside of the offending media. As of yet untested, besides the ole go to cure of screaming, I believe electro shock therapy may be of some benefit. Also, unplugging of devices where applicable, seems effective.

So I scream at Asa. First, his name to get his attention. Then I yell, "Can ya find me a flashlight?" I bet he was wondering what I was yelling for a flashlight for while sitting in the middle of the floor. Regrettably, I realize I take alot out on him that should be directed at MS or the situation itself. Before he could even rush to the closet to look for a light I redirect him to his shoes. By God, he's 9, he should take the dog out!

As he readys for the outdoors I come to my senses. It's still dark out there. Maybe even darker now than when this whole ordeal started. If my baby should fall out there . . . guess what crippled is bulldozing out there to the rescue?! Hell yeh! And poor Abe, distraught about his runaway sure didn't need the added stress of a missing mother and brother.

So struggling to my feet I lean on the dog cage and fiddle with the light. Ah, ha! It was at least still working. Apparently the motion sensor had been moved by the storm. Gun shy, I grabbed a nearby rake and felt my way via the grill to just the spot I would have to be to trip the sensor on. I ordered the boys to stand guard at the door. They were to stop outgoing cat traffic and encourage any outsiders in. And should darkness befall me again I had entrusted Asa with the brave task of venturing just beyond the grill to trip the light. Alas, Gooch did his business fast. Abe left his post briefly for a successful rescue mission and Asa stood vigilant awaiting further instruction. Ahhh, who knew I'd become a drill seargent. Dismissed.

Snacks, drinks, upstairs. Prior discussions of who was to sleep next to mommy were moot. I crawled upstairs. Literally. Prayers said and potty visited they climbed atop their bunks clearly dissappointed. Attempting drunkenly to feed the fish while holding myself up against the dresser, I wholeheartedly apologized to my little men. I was sorry for yellin' and fallin' and bein' sick and needin' so much help ALL the time. And in unison, just as if it had been scripted that way for some sappy 80s sitcom, they replied, "We forgive you, Mom."

And with that, before tears fell, I returned to my room. I believe it was a credit card commercial that began the whole PRICELESS ad epedemic! Those four simple words my boys said to me were just that - priceless! They're so understanding. Both are wise beyond their years. Asa especially. My being ill while preggers with Abe and his losing his papa to cancer, made a man of him early. I have to constantly remind myself - he just turned 9.

Sure they drive me batty as I'm sure they do most of you, however they are truly wonderful boys. They both truly do put up with alot from me. And they may not realize it yet, but they miss out on alot because of me too. I pray it won't be for too much longer. We've got offensive lines to obliterate and quarterbacks to lay out. Asa's big in size for his age too. And in football, he's a killer! Go Titans! I get chills just thinkin' about it . . .

As for Abe's specialty, besides being a ladies man, he is as of yet excelling the most at academics. He has fun at everything though, so who knows? He's only in kindergarten. Maybe one day, should his big bubby be blocking for him, he might could run for a record number of yards. I figure either way - two full ride scholarships to Notre Dame will be sweet. I'll vote for the Spindler/Spindler presidential ticket. Won't you?

What will Sunday hold? Maybe I should start on their acceptance speeches. Gotta go, Jason's here!!! Have I told y'all I love him? More tomorrow. Promise.