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I have the same picture over at my other place. I wanted to share how absolutely beautiful Manhatten was at sunrise.
As a young girl I had big dreams. Now some of the are coming true. . .
Hey! Between the bus eating my children, the truck playing hide and seek in the parking lot, and that hectic first day of school, I’ve thrown my hat in the ring and participated in this:
You would have my undying gratitude and my first born child (no…you’d just bring him back after an hour)if you voted for me. Thanks! I’ll go into more detail about the bus and the parking lot later. )
Just click on the button or here.
1. When I was fours old, I thought I might have the power to resurrect dead animals. Our cattle dogs would bring wild rabbits they had just killed into the front yard. An animal lover at an early age, I risked life and limb by wrestling the prey away from the hungry dogs. Shedding tears of sorrow over the bunny carcass, I tied one end of a rope to the animal's neck, the other end to my tricycle, got on, and rode up and down the drive, as hard as my chubby legs could pedal, dragging the corpse behind me in the dust. I believed that if I went fast enough, the rabbit would come to life. Mom looked out the kitchen window and saw what I was doing. She screamed, told my dad to make me stop, and well. . .that ended my bunny "lifesaving career." And you thought Stephen King was weird.
2. I might have said this one before, but I brought one of my horses into my mother's house. Several months after Daddy was killed, Mom decided to have the re-modeling of the house completed, so she hired some workers to complete what my dad started. On day, when I was leading a four month old filly past the house, a worker remarked that the horse was very well-trained to the halter, but he bet me that I couldn't get the filly inside the house.
Wordlessly, I led the horse across the porch, through the front door, where she patiently trip-trapped behind me on the particle board to the kitchen. Mom, who was at the sink, told me--as if it was an every day affair--to get the horse out of the house. The worker, redfaced, stuttered as we walked out, said, "I-I didn't think you'd take me literally."
"Don't ever dare me to do anything," was my icy reply.
3. I used to eat Mircle Whip sandwiches when I was little.
4. I stood on the sidelines during an NFL pre-season scrimmage, and got to put a Superbowl ring on my finger. This occurred the very last summer the Dallas Cowboys had their training camp in Austin. I was field security, which meant I had direct contact with the players and special guests. One afternoon, when practice was over, I was introduced to an ex-Cowboy; one who'd played with Dallas the first time they went to the Superbowl.
5. I love pickled beets.
HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!
Having a preschooler again is definitely having an affect on me. We watch Barney—I think we have every DVD—several times a day. I can’t stand that prehistoric creature, but still I find myself pausing in the housework, glued to television so I can see what Barney does next. I know all the lyrics to the Barney songs, and the CD case in my truck—which once boasted the soulful sounds of Luther Vandross or Pink—is now overflowing with titles that include Toddler Tunes and Just 4 Kids.
Can you imagine what it’s like, on a warm spring day, to have the windows in your truck rolled down, and stop beside a bass-thumping car at the red light (who also has their windows down). Not to be outdone, you reach into your CD case, and not looking at the disc selected, pop it into the player. Soon, you’re jamming to the sound of Hickory Dickory Dock or Old McDonald. The sound of laughter reaches your ears as the light turns green and the other car races away, leaving you behind in a cloud of dust and embarrassment. It’s happened to me before, and I must say it’s not a good feeling.
I even count money differently. The other day I was in the checkout line at the store. When it came time to give the cashier my money, grabbing her hand I pressed the coins individually into it and said, “That’s a quarter. . .twenty-five. . .and one more quarter makes fifty—“ I saw the shock in her eyes, and luckily was able to stop myself. Of all days, Robert chose that one to stay at home with his dad.
“Haha. . .I have a preschooler at home,” I said, my face reddening.
“Uh-huh,” the cashier replied, jamming the receipt in my hand, obviously glad that this crazy woman was leaving her line.
I need help; either Robert has a bigger impact on me than I thought, or I’m already regressing into my second childhood. Either way, I’m a mess.