|"All I saw was legs kicking and a lady screaming, "Is that a dead pheasant?""|
Judging by the sudden switch from bitter cold to ridiculous heat, I'd say Kansas has officially skipped spring and declared us to be in an emergency state of summer.
Honestly, I was tempted to turn on the ac yesterday, but, as we have our trusty attic fan up and working again, I couldn't really justify it. What I did justify was piling all the children in the van and heading out to do a midday car wash/ car vacuuming, because the Teddy Graham population had multiplied to such an extent, I found a petition on the steering wheel, asking that they be granted the area behind my seat as a preserve.
I hate being bossed around by cookies, so off we went, through the car wash and straight to the area designated for cleaning horror out of vehicles. The baby spent this brief journey recovering from the near death experience by giant, soapy brushes.
Luckily, he tried to stick his chubby fist in my coffee this morning, so I believe he's forgiven me.
Chocolate bears cleaned out, trash thrown away, it wasn't until I went to start the van that I realized we had no keys with which to bring our loan-laden carriage roaring to life. *This spot left vacant to insert necessary panic*
I looked at the children. "Where are the keys?" As I received nothing in response except for wide eyes implying I was an idiot, I began the frantic search. Had I eaten them while digging through the stray cookies? Did someone steal them and not the car? Had I ....
Son of a motherless goat.
What happened became abundantly clear as I stared at the covered public trashcan. I'd left my phone at home, there was no one to save me. And so, I dove, headfirst, into what can only be described as the place where all items that should never be touched live.
Me: Good afternoon, trashcan.
Me: You don't mind if I shimmy under your foot-high covering and do some exploring, do you?
Trashcan: It happens more than you think.
Trashcan: No. I was trying to make you feel better. Go ahead.
Me: It's so dark down here. What was that? Did that move? No, it was just an air freshener. Ok, that's either a wrapper or old toilet paper. That looks like a foot. Alright, I'm out of here.
Just as my desperation reached fever pitch, something shiny came into view, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Legs failing, I emerged,victorious.
So, remember, kids. Either leave those bad boys in the ignition or on the seat, because no one wants to think they feel a foot at the bottom of a trashcan.
Until Next Time, Readers!