For the last few months my daughter has been having a rough time on the bus rides to and from school.
This morning she came to me with tears in her eyes:
"Can I not ride the bus anymore?"
I knew in an instant that something was going on again.
"No honey, you can't hide from life."
"But yesterday was really bad and I don't want it to be like that again."
She proceeded to show me her hat I bought her for Christmas. One of those hats with an animals face on it and there are two strings that hang down from it with big pom-poms at the end. Apparently one of the boys on the bus yanked on the strings til the ball was nearly ripped off -which did make me pretty mad.
"Did you tell Miss Karen?" (Miss Karen is the bus driver)
"Well... no."
"Then obviously you don't care if people destroy your belongings."
"Mom!"
A few minutes of banter passed where I told her to quit letting people act however they want around her; to quit letting people walk all over her all the time. Then she showed me her hand, where one of her closest friends since Kindergarten raked her nails into my daughter's skin. Sure as shit, there were red nail marks on the back of her hand. I asked why and received an answer that it was unprovoked and for no reason. So I pretty much lost it.
"Someone physically hurts you and you allow it? Punch her in the face. I give you permission."
"Mom... I don't hit people."
"Did you tell Miss Karen?"
"No. I don't want to be embarrassed."
*sigh*
"Babe, you cannot let people treat you like this. Especially someone you call a friend."
She does let them though, she always has. Funny enough, though she wasn't around for my childhood, I did too. I was walked on and bullied from Elementary school through High School. It makes me sick to the core. My stomach is churning just typing this out. I am not like that now and have no issues with bullying at this point in my life probably because I was abused so much as a kid. Now, I have no tolerance for bullying, whatsoever. When I hear about it all I see is red. Blood red. I wound up getting pretty heated about it this morning and my daughter wound up crying. My daughter is a sensitive soul. She is one of those free-spirit/old souls who just wants everyone to be happy and for everyone to love each other. I love that about her. How she is so carefree and sweet. She is too young to understand that realistically a peaceful world is unattainable. If you ever heard the song "That's The Way" by Led Zeppelin, that is my song for her.
All in all, I passed the situation on to the bus driver -who just so happened to run into the girl's mother at school. Not even 20 minutes later the mom was on my front porch extending her apologies. I told her not to jump to any conclusions until she talked to her daughter about the situation. She ranted about how her daughter was grounded and she was taking away all of her toys and DVDs. I didn't feel bad even an ounce for that, but I was still feeling bad that my daughter does't know how to stand up for herself. I don't know what to do or how to get around this, but my heart is heavy. She only has 4 months left in elementary school and then she is on to junior high where it just gets harder. :(
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
Your Passion or Mine?
In English class last Monday, we had to write three paragraphs on something we felt passionately about so the professor could gauge how we write and what styles we use when doing so. I swear I could have sat there the entire night and not come up with a topic. While I feel emotion in regard to many topics, I am one of those people who can see both sides so clearly that sometimes it blurs my passionate lines. Liberal to the core I suppose.
Either way I ended up writing about politics. One thing I am not incredibly seasoned in, but one that is paving a really wide road through my life right now - especially with friends and family. I wrote them in a very hurried yet semi-lengthy way. Almost everyone else had left before I was finished with my bland three paragraphs. I pretty much could have written all night just on the things that were pouring out of me, but I cut them short and wrapped it up for the night. I wrote how since November 6th (Election Day), I have deleted over 90 people from my Facebook - mostly for political reasons. Not because someone may not think like I do, but because of the blatant ignorance pouring out of people these days.
This past Monday I got my paper back. I have been so nervous since school started that I was honestly expecting a pretty bad review of my paper. I could see mine sitting at the top of the stack and there was all kind of notes littering the margins.
Oh dear, has it been that long since I was in school that I have forgotten how to write three freaking paragraphs properly?
The class is in regard to Composition and making sure we can write in the right format and blah blah blah. The meat and potatoes of it all is to write a thesis on a topic in the news that we are passionate about. One that we can argue and state facts about. Yikes. Here comes that pesky passionate bullshit again.
Sidebar: One thing I look for in a partner is passion. Sure a man can be incredibly good looking and smart, but if he has the same passion as a wet dishrag then I will pretty much end the relationship then and there. And by passion I do not mean hobbies. By passion I mean, he wants to leave a mark on something whether it be his kids, his nieces and nephews, feeding the hungry or even world peace. I am extremely attracted to a guy that I lives his life on behalf of something other than himself.
She handed my paper back and within the margins it said things like "Love this opening!" and "Great rhetorical question!" The one that got me was "You could use this for your paper topic! It would be new, since no one has done it yet. Interesting paper." I did a literal facepalm right there. I didn't even know what to say, where to start, how to react, any of it. Adrenaline started coursing through my body and I wasn't even sure how to move my legs to walk away from her. I just stood there like a mannequin. I have under-estimated myself. And though this was only the first assignment and I have a LONG way to go before I walk away with an 'A' in the class, I still felt my confidence level sky rocket. It's one thing to keep a journal every day or blog on the occasion, but to have someone else tell you that they like your ideas is one thing you can't buy in a store.
Reeling from the aftermath, I picked up 4 books for research and have written 2 pages of a rough draft. It isn't even due until mid-March. Needless to say I am a bit excited. Every day when I go to my classes (whether it is English or otherwise) I am on a high. Like college is where I am supposed to be.
I guess I owe a thank you to Lowe's for that fateful day when I was fired. Thank you for changing my life for the absolute best!
Either way I ended up writing about politics. One thing I am not incredibly seasoned in, but one that is paving a really wide road through my life right now - especially with friends and family. I wrote them in a very hurried yet semi-lengthy way. Almost everyone else had left before I was finished with my bland three paragraphs. I pretty much could have written all night just on the things that were pouring out of me, but I cut them short and wrapped it up for the night. I wrote how since November 6th (Election Day), I have deleted over 90 people from my Facebook - mostly for political reasons. Not because someone may not think like I do, but because of the blatant ignorance pouring out of people these days.
This past Monday I got my paper back. I have been so nervous since school started that I was honestly expecting a pretty bad review of my paper. I could see mine sitting at the top of the stack and there was all kind of notes littering the margins.
Oh dear, has it been that long since I was in school that I have forgotten how to write three freaking paragraphs properly?
The class is in regard to Composition and making sure we can write in the right format and blah blah blah. The meat and potatoes of it all is to write a thesis on a topic in the news that we are passionate about. One that we can argue and state facts about. Yikes. Here comes that pesky passionate bullshit again.
Sidebar: One thing I look for in a partner is passion. Sure a man can be incredibly good looking and smart, but if he has the same passion as a wet dishrag then I will pretty much end the relationship then and there. And by passion I do not mean hobbies. By passion I mean, he wants to leave a mark on something whether it be his kids, his nieces and nephews, feeding the hungry or even world peace. I am extremely attracted to a guy that I lives his life on behalf of something other than himself.
She handed my paper back and within the margins it said things like "Love this opening!" and "Great rhetorical question!" The one that got me was "You could use this for your paper topic! It would be new, since no one has done it yet. Interesting paper." I did a literal facepalm right there. I didn't even know what to say, where to start, how to react, any of it. Adrenaline started coursing through my body and I wasn't even sure how to move my legs to walk away from her. I just stood there like a mannequin. I have under-estimated myself. And though this was only the first assignment and I have a LONG way to go before I walk away with an 'A' in the class, I still felt my confidence level sky rocket. It's one thing to keep a journal every day or blog on the occasion, but to have someone else tell you that they like your ideas is one thing you can't buy in a store.
Reeling from the aftermath, I picked up 4 books for research and have written 2 pages of a rough draft. It isn't even due until mid-March. Needless to say I am a bit excited. Every day when I go to my classes (whether it is English or otherwise) I am on a high. Like college is where I am supposed to be.
I guess I owe a thank you to Lowe's for that fateful day when I was fired. Thank you for changing my life for the absolute best!
Friday, January 4, 2013
I Am The Sunshine
I awoke today to find that I didn't want to go along with any of the plans that I had set for myself. When I looked at my cellphone, the too-white screen blared to life showing me it was only 5am, and since falling back asleep was not really an option, I decided to open the book I was reading the night before.
I got a good two hours in when my alarm to start the day started going off. Typically when the alarm goes off I snooze it to death. Today, I was like the sunshine.
Of course Lou got to school without a hitch and I had my whole day mapped out before me. I even had a list written out of the people to call, the bills to pay, and the places I was supposed to go. I held that yellow Post-It note in my hand before crumpling it into a ball and tossing it across the room. I wandered to my bedroom, put my sweats back on and crawled into bed. Bea jumped right up on the bed as if on cue. She does that when I wake up in the morning, she will go back in my room, jump right up on the bed, and cock her head to the side as if to say, "But mommy, aren't we going to sleep in longer?" There have been instances where she has been to bed at 9pm and will sleep until 11am. She also does this cute thing of when you climb into bed and lift the covers to pull them around yourself, she nudges her nose under them. Meaning: Lift them back up so I can come under too. And I do. And she does. Every day. It's funny that for an emotionally detached old maid who doesn't like to cuddle, that I snuggle up a pit bull every day like it is my job.
So I fired up my tablet and took off back down Firefly Lane. It only took me another hour or so to finish the story. As we all know I am a emotional person. This book hit me like a ton of bricks. I was weeping when it was over. I cried maybe 40% of this book that is how much it touched my heart. Good thing my cousin Bridget called to take me off topic or I may have sobbed for hours.
Firefly Lane is a tale of two best friends, Tully and Kate, whose paths crossed when they were 13 and they were inseparable from that point forward- even though they were two very different people. Life took them on a lot of journeys and misadventures. I didn't relate to one of them, yet a little to both. Neither story was quite my own, but nonetheless, I felt the pangs of friendships lost, loves lost, family lost, childhood lost. Okay, that's a lot of loss. Tully liked to push people away and that I could relate too, because it was one of my best qualities. Kate was passive to her friends and they usually took advantage of her for it. Again with the hitting home. It had me spending an afternoon thinking deeply of life and it's path.
One thing about being jobless is that unemployed people usually watch more TV than they can stomach. I on the other hand do not have cable. Books who have always been a dear friend are now my absolute solace. My love. So after putting dinner and homework, I decided I had to start a new adventure. Lou was playing something on the iPod and I decided on reading Heaven Is For Real. I had heard it was good but heard nothing more. I ate that novel up in two hours flat. I don't know if I believe the story that a boy went into surgery, "died" even though the records don't show it, and went to Heaven with Jesus, to come back and share his tale. So here I sit, thinking about faith. Something you could wonder about for all of time and never have an answer to. Guess we will all know one day. Eternity does kind of freak me out though. Sounds like a commitment which we all know I avoid.
Maybe tomorrow I won't read a book and I will rejoin society instead. I sure hope society is under my covers snuggled up next to Beatrice.
I got a good two hours in when my alarm to start the day started going off. Typically when the alarm goes off I snooze it to death. Today, I was like the sunshine.
Of course Lou got to school without a hitch and I had my whole day mapped out before me. I even had a list written out of the people to call, the bills to pay, and the places I was supposed to go. I held that yellow Post-It note in my hand before crumpling it into a ball and tossing it across the room. I wandered to my bedroom, put my sweats back on and crawled into bed. Bea jumped right up on the bed as if on cue. She does that when I wake up in the morning, she will go back in my room, jump right up on the bed, and cock her head to the side as if to say, "But mommy, aren't we going to sleep in longer?" There have been instances where she has been to bed at 9pm and will sleep until 11am. She also does this cute thing of when you climb into bed and lift the covers to pull them around yourself, she nudges her nose under them. Meaning: Lift them back up so I can come under too. And I do. And she does. Every day. It's funny that for an emotionally detached old maid who doesn't like to cuddle, that I snuggle up a pit bull every day like it is my job.
So I fired up my tablet and took off back down Firefly Lane. It only took me another hour or so to finish the story. As we all know I am a emotional person. This book hit me like a ton of bricks. I was weeping when it was over. I cried maybe 40% of this book that is how much it touched my heart. Good thing my cousin Bridget called to take me off topic or I may have sobbed for hours.
Firefly Lane is a tale of two best friends, Tully and Kate, whose paths crossed when they were 13 and they were inseparable from that point forward- even though they were two very different people. Life took them on a lot of journeys and misadventures. I didn't relate to one of them, yet a little to both. Neither story was quite my own, but nonetheless, I felt the pangs of friendships lost, loves lost, family lost, childhood lost. Okay, that's a lot of loss. Tully liked to push people away and that I could relate too, because it was one of my best qualities. Kate was passive to her friends and they usually took advantage of her for it. Again with the hitting home. It had me spending an afternoon thinking deeply of life and it's path.
One thing about being jobless is that unemployed people usually watch more TV than they can stomach. I on the other hand do not have cable. Books who have always been a dear friend are now my absolute solace. My love. So after putting dinner and homework, I decided I had to start a new adventure. Lou was playing something on the iPod and I decided on reading Heaven Is For Real. I had heard it was good but heard nothing more. I ate that novel up in two hours flat. I don't know if I believe the story that a boy went into surgery, "died" even though the records don't show it, and went to Heaven with Jesus, to come back and share his tale. So here I sit, thinking about faith. Something you could wonder about for all of time and never have an answer to. Guess we will all know one day. Eternity does kind of freak me out though. Sounds like a commitment which we all know I avoid.
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Bowling Alleys 'n BFFs.
I woke up with the sound of pouring rain outside which is a completely disappointing way to wake up in Michigan in December. I would prefer it to be 10 degrees colder and all of this nonsense rain be snow.
I have also have one of those awesome tickles in my lungs. You know when you first get sick and you have that dry yet scratchy feeling? I have been coughing all day but nothing is coming up. Completely unproductive. My favorite. Sigh. I bet you that I will be perfectly sick for Christmas. Why wouldn't I be?
Around 3pm I had a knock on the door. It was the mail lady. I was a bit confused because I haven't ordered anything due to being in the poorhouse. It was nice sized package and it said
"To: MaryAnne & Alanna, From: Up North"
I knew just by the handwriting who it was from.
Here is the backstory: Once upon a time in say 2001? My friend Shawn was dating this girl who everyone called "Keggy." I never met her the entire time they dated, but I kept hearing that she was this tiny little girl who did 'keg stands' like a champ. I liked her already.
We all went bowling one night and Kristine (AKA: Keggy) showed up with a box of Shawn's things. They had broken up and she was returning his crap. I was introduced myself, commented on her super cute shoes (which were Nike Shocks with neon pink soles), and apparently we were friends for life.
After nearly 12 years, her and I still have not seen each other since that one night at the bowling alley. We've sent cards back and forth. We take pictures of street signs when we are in each other's cities. We even take pictures of our odometers when they read cool combinations of numbers. This is our friendship which is better than a lot of friendships I have with people I actually do see. She is one of my favorite people on the planet - today has completely confirmed it.
She read my blog, had no idea I had lost my job, and sent me Christmas care package. I cried. Wait, I am still crying. I can't help it... I am a sap. She is a wonderful, amazing person and I am so lucky to have a friend like her. My gift was a Scentsy care package. I suggest if you have never heard of Scentsy or don't own one, to get a freaking order in. Kristine's Scentsy Page
It is the most amazing thing EVER. I am a customer of hers til the end of time. Which is tonight at midnight according to the Mayans. ;)
If she is reading this, which I hope she is, I hope she knows how much her friendship means to me. Even if it is virtual. Pictures, cards, emails, text... I love her.
One day we are going to meet up and go bowling with the kids. Back to where it all began, make no mistake about that.
I have also have one of those awesome tickles in my lungs. You know when you first get sick and you have that dry yet scratchy feeling? I have been coughing all day but nothing is coming up. Completely unproductive. My favorite. Sigh. I bet you that I will be perfectly sick for Christmas. Why wouldn't I be?
Around 3pm I had a knock on the door. It was the mail lady. I was a bit confused because I haven't ordered anything due to being in the poorhouse. It was nice sized package and it said
"To: MaryAnne & Alanna, From: Up North"
I knew just by the handwriting who it was from.
Here is the backstory: Once upon a time in say 2001? My friend Shawn was dating this girl who everyone called "Keggy." I never met her the entire time they dated, but I kept hearing that she was this tiny little girl who did 'keg stands' like a champ. I liked her already.
We all went bowling one night and Kristine (AKA: Keggy) showed up with a box of Shawn's things. They had broken up and she was returning his crap. I was introduced myself, commented on her super cute shoes (which were Nike Shocks with neon pink soles), and apparently we were friends for life.
After nearly 12 years, her and I still have not seen each other since that one night at the bowling alley. We've sent cards back and forth. We take pictures of street signs when we are in each other's cities. We even take pictures of our odometers when they read cool combinations of numbers. This is our friendship which is better than a lot of friendships I have with people I actually do see. She is one of my favorite people on the planet - today has completely confirmed it.
She read my blog, had no idea I had lost my job, and sent me Christmas care package. I cried. Wait, I am still crying. I can't help it... I am a sap. She is a wonderful, amazing person and I am so lucky to have a friend like her. My gift was a Scentsy care package. I suggest if you have never heard of Scentsy or don't own one, to get a freaking order in. Kristine's Scentsy Page
It is the most amazing thing EVER. I am a customer of hers til the end of time. Which is tonight at midnight according to the Mayans. ;)
If she is reading this, which I hope she is, I hope she knows how much her friendship means to me. Even if it is virtual. Pictures, cards, emails, text... I love her.
One day we are going to meet up and go bowling with the kids. Back to where it all began, make no mistake about that.
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Someone call the Wambulance
It was an exceptionally weird day today. The alarm was being snoozed to death. Finally I texted Alanna with an "Up, up, up little one." She said "You too missy!" Sigh. My little snot.
I crawled out of bed and straight into the arms of the love of my life which would be my coffee maker, then opened up my laptop. As it rang to life I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. I wandered into Alanna's room making sure she was really out of bed this time and helped her pick out an outfit. I went back to the computer, when I saw a friend posted a YouTube video on my wall. I clicked it without reading anything other than "The Voice - Hallelujah." Jeff Buckley did a version of this song that is my absolute favorite. Alex Wong and Allison Holker danced to this a few season ago on So You Think You Can Dance. It has just left an impression on me. I get misty eyed and sing along like I sang it originally. This was different. It was a tribute to the kids at Sandy Hook. I lost it. Big time. I cried like a baby and then texted said friend to tell her I was mad at her for not warning me. I guess I could have read the caption.
Alanna stumbled out of her bedroom and was confused as to why I was hyperventilating over a song. I couldn't explain it, even though she knows all about the S.H.E.S. tragedy. What a way to start the day. With a big fat sob session. If this was the outlook for the day it was pretty effing accurate. I think I cried 24 different times. This is not an exaggeration... not one bit.
Shortly after I had to drive a half hour to pick up a prize I won through my college. They selected me at random to win a $100 gift card -which is stinking awesome! When I got to the office, I started telling the ladies my life story, like they cared, and cried some more. I mean, really? They even had to snap my photo for part of the promotion and here I am all red faced, splotchy, and snotty. Aka: HOT!
I spent the rest of the day painting my signs and catching up on episodes of The Voice and Ben & Kate (Tomorrow is Revenge and How I Met Your Mother). It's been a non-emotional night let me just tell you. I think my tear ducts haven't quite replenished themselves yet. Well they better by tomorrow. My daughter's school is sponsoring me for Christmas and the staff bought her Christmas presents. I have to pick them up in the morning. I am pretty sure I will bawl my eyes out again. And maybe even again.
So to all that I say this:
1) Screw being a girl
2) Screw being off of anti-depressants that kept my tears at bay all these years and
3) SCREW CRYING, DAMMIT!
I crawled out of bed and straight into the arms of the love of my life which would be my coffee maker, then opened up my laptop. As it rang to life I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. I wandered into Alanna's room making sure she was really out of bed this time and helped her pick out an outfit. I went back to the computer, when I saw a friend posted a YouTube video on my wall. I clicked it without reading anything other than "The Voice - Hallelujah." Jeff Buckley did a version of this song that is my absolute favorite. Alex Wong and Allison Holker danced to this a few season ago on So You Think You Can Dance. It has just left an impression on me. I get misty eyed and sing along like I sang it originally. This was different. It was a tribute to the kids at Sandy Hook. I lost it. Big time. I cried like a baby and then texted said friend to tell her I was mad at her for not warning me. I guess I could have read the caption.
Alanna stumbled out of her bedroom and was confused as to why I was hyperventilating over a song. I couldn't explain it, even though she knows all about the S.H.E.S. tragedy. What a way to start the day. With a big fat sob session. If this was the outlook for the day it was pretty effing accurate. I think I cried 24 different times. This is not an exaggeration... not one bit.
Shortly after I had to drive a half hour to pick up a prize I won through my college. They selected me at random to win a $100 gift card -which is stinking awesome! When I got to the office, I started telling the ladies my life story, like they cared, and cried some more. I mean, really? They even had to snap my photo for part of the promotion and here I am all red faced, splotchy, and snotty. Aka: HOT!
I spent the rest of the day painting my signs and catching up on episodes of The Voice and Ben & Kate (Tomorrow is Revenge and How I Met Your Mother). It's been a non-emotional night let me just tell you. I think my tear ducts haven't quite replenished themselves yet. Well they better by tomorrow. My daughter's school is sponsoring me for Christmas and the staff bought her Christmas presents. I have to pick them up in the morning. I am pretty sure I will bawl my eyes out again. And maybe even again.
So to all that I say this:
1) Screw being a girl
2) Screw being off of anti-depressants that kept my tears at bay all these years and
3) SCREW CRYING, DAMMIT!
Monday, December 17, 2012
Twenty Sets
This morning was an especially hard morning.
As I waited at the bus stop with my girl, I kept thinking to myself how 20 specific sets of parents woke up this morning and didn't have to get their baby ready for school. How a lot of parents all over the world didn't have to do that because they lost their child to cancer, a car accident, or in another way.
At 10, my daughter still isn't ashamed to be seen with me in public and I am happy for that because this world has changed so much in the last 30 years of my life. People don't express their love the same. People treat their kids differently. Most people are so caught up in their own lives that they don't focus as much as they should on their kids lives. I can't say I am perfect by any means, but I know when to stop and pay attention to what my child is saying to me. I know to tell her I love her and mean it. I know to give her praise and hugs all the time.
When the bus pulled up she said "Love you Momma!" like she does every single day and she puckered up for a kiss. I kissed her and grabbed her in for a big hug. I will miss my little girl today, but not even fractionally close to how the parents in Newtown, CT are missing their babies every day.
I've been hearing a lot about mental illness in the wake of this horrific tragedy. As someone who doesn't have all the proper chemicals in their brain, I understand. I don't understand how you could take another's life out of hatred, but I do understand the ability to lose control. I don't think we should be using mental illness as a scapegoat, but I do think it should be recognized a bit more.
I have so much to say on this subject. So much to say on mental illness being misunderstood and people not having a clue about it. I have so much to say on parenting and listening to your children.
My daughter just called from school because she forgot to bring her gym shoes. And when I said "Alanna, this is your responsibility to remember these things." I caught myself and thought: "Your baby needs you. Go." I can do that for her. I can bring her gym shoes every single day. I can tell her I love her every single day. But in Newtown, CT twenty sets of parents...cannot.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Death to Lucy.
My cat Lucy is terrified of everything! She is afraid of me scooting a chair across the floor. If I shut a door too hard she is under the bed for an hour, and if a man is in my house you will never see her for the rest of the day. But it's always different for "mommy." I'm home a lot more than usual as of late and she likes to nuzzle me and tell me she loves me in her cat language of mews and guttural purrs.
Tonight was NOT an "I love you" night. I called my brother Scott to check on some things in the weeks ahead. He asked what was new and I told him how I'm 95% sure my wrist is fractured. He told me to go get it looked at like a big brother should say. I asked him what dates he is coming home from Christmas. BAM! Out of nowhere Lucy decides to frantically run up and across my ankle, shin, knee, & inner thigh. I yell out in pain, not sure what to say or what to do after that so I mutter a "hold on" into the phone as I set it down and start saying "Owww, owww, owww, owwww." repeatedly like it is going to hurt less if I keep saying it. Meanwhile I bust my pants off and my leg is gushing with blood. From multiple places!! WTF?!
I picked the phone back up but I am crying at this point. Okay, maybe sobbing in pain. My brother has no idea what just happened and why he hears me crying and screaming in the background. I could have been bludgeoned for all he knows. I can hardly speak.
"The cat....just clawed... my leg off."
"What happened?"
"Lucy just.... hightailed..... across my leg.... and I think we need to amputate.
"I'll let you go. Go clean that out. You don't want to get cat scratch fever."
Nooooo. Not Ted Nugent references. Sigh.
Needless to say, I called my brother back and apologized for being such an uber-sissy over the phone. He suggested de-clawing the cat. I suggested to euthanize her. It is cheaper.
Tonight was NOT an "I love you" night. I called my brother Scott to check on some things in the weeks ahead. He asked what was new and I told him how I'm 95% sure my wrist is fractured. He told me to go get it looked at like a big brother should say. I asked him what dates he is coming home from Christmas. BAM! Out of nowhere Lucy decides to frantically run up and across my ankle, shin, knee, & inner thigh. I yell out in pain, not sure what to say or what to do after that so I mutter a "hold on" into the phone as I set it down and start saying "Owww, owww, owww, owwww." repeatedly like it is going to hurt less if I keep saying it. Meanwhile I bust my pants off and my leg is gushing with blood. From multiple places!! WTF?!
 |
| Boo. Hiss. |
"The cat....just clawed... my leg off."
"What happened?"
"Lucy just.... hightailed..... across my leg.... and I think we need to amputate.
Nooooo. Not Ted Nugent references. Sigh.
Needless to say, I called my brother back and apologized for being such an uber-sissy over the phone. He suggested de-clawing the cat. I suggested to euthanize her. It is cheaper.
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