The $2000 Fish Part 2

And there we sat in the intersection with the morning patrons of Union Street Station gaping out the windows as they sipped their breakfast beers.  I had come to terms that all the children were ok as was my prized Betta fish.

I focused on the car I had hit; a brand new Mustang and the driver frantically running over to make sure everyone was ok.  Everyone was, I assured her, but her car was totaled.  I mean obliterated.  My Volvo front quarter panel was merely crunched.  And the full realization of what had happened was sinking in.

Cars whizzed up - first the father of the other party. . .and being a small town, I can tell you it was my favorite carpet cleaner.  Oh crap!  She ran up to him and he threw his arms around her asking what had happened.  I knew not to admit fault (but duh, I'm turning into her lane - it was kind of obvious) and then out of some other car pops the insurance guy who conveniently serviced both the Mustang and the Volvo and just happened to be driving by with his camera handy.  He wanted the story.  At that moment, and because we were located almost directly in front of the police station, out comes the local constabulary to control the scene.  In hindsight, I am pretty sure that the police conducted a formal game of rock, paper, scissors to decide who had to go out and deal with the whole mess.

So, Insurance Man is clicking away on his camera, Carpet Cleaner is consoling his daughter as she cried over her, BRAND NEW, only owned it 24 hours totaled Mustang, the Beer Gang at Union Street are applauding and whooping and hollering and I tell the story to the cop.

"And then, officer, the fish jumped out of the water onto the back seat floor, and I turned to see because I knew the fish would die if it didn't get back in the water, and I was turning onto Union and then veered into the oncoming lane and hit her car."

"So, your saying," the officer was suppressing a laugh, but I could see his mouth twitching, "that the fish caused the accident?"

"Yes."  That was my story and I was sticking to it.  The cop smirked and said I would be getting a ticket.  I knew this might take time and had to get the older boys to pre-school so I pulled the baby out of the car seat handed him to the officer and said, "I have to take the boys to pre-school.  I promise to come right back - I'll leave the baby to prove it!"

"That's ok, I believe you!" said the officer trying to hand the baby back.  "Are you sure?" I asked.
"It's not like I have to haul you to jail - please take your baby back!"  Panic was slowly creeping over his cool as a cucumber cop face and I thought, for a minute, about leaving the baby anyway.  I mean what better to place than the police station, right?  And perhaps, the officer would take pity on me. But, I didn't and did return to collect my ticket and the subsequent jump in insurance premiums.

And the fish?  It survived the ordeal.  The car?  Bob estimated the cost at $2000.  Expensive fish.

The $2000 Fish Part 1

I have a Safe Driver Certificate.  I got it when I renewed my license a few years back.  And while most of you get that as a matter of course, I covet mine.  You see, I had a bad streak during the 90's .  I'm not going to go into chapter and verse concerning all of my accidents, suffice it to say that Bob's Body Shop had a shelf especially for me.  And on that shelf were the array of paints used on my vehicles over the years.  It's possible that I, singlehandedly, funded the first two years of Bob's son's college.  I'm not proud of that, it's just a fact I can't deny.

In 1991 I drove a burgundy Volvo 240 sedan.  Your typical utilitarian boxy style, it also had heated seats and a front end that screamed tough.  I loved that car.  In 1991, we also made our first (and last) foray into owning an aquarium.  We had grommies, sharks and a beautiful deep pink Betta with a plume of a tail.  I loved that Betta.

About a week after we got the Beta, it's tail, the once proud and fluttering plume, had begun to clump, resembling a greasy comb over.  And being a good pet owner, I called the pet shop owner uptown who told me to bring the fish in so they could make a proper diagnosis.  No problem, I thought.  I put the fish is a cup of water, put the baby in the car seat (located properly in the back seat), loaded Oldest Child (who I was going to drop off at preschool) in front and stopped to pick-up a neighbor boy who was in the preschool carpool.

Off we headed to town where I was going to make a quick stop at the pet store before heading to preschool.  So, Oldest Child being tallest, sat in front while Neighbor Boy held the fish in the back seat with the baby, safely belted, buckled, tied and otherwise tethered to the other seat in back.

I was sitting in the left turn lane at the intersection of Hwy 2 and Union St., waiting for the light to allow me to turn.  I am careful that way.  As the arrow appeared and I began the turn, Neighbor Boy, holding the fish yells, "Hey!  The fish jumped out!" at which point, I turned to look and ran smack into a car that was sitting at the stop light on Union. . . which was also in front of the police station and Union Street Station - take your pick, neither place invoked warm fuzzy feelings for me.

Upon realization that all of us in the car were fine, still belted and all limbs were accounted for, Neighbor Boy shakes his head and says, "Boy! Is your husband gonna kill YOU!"  Now, I'm thinking a thousand things at this point but the truth is, what I really wanted to know was why, if the fish jumped out, was it STILL IN THE CUP HELD TIGHTLY IN NEIGHBOR BOY'S LITTLE HAND!?

Stay tuned.  As the saga continues and I face my crime.

Winner Winner Chicken Dinner!

I am thrilled to announce that the two lucky winners for my book giveaway - a contest open to anyone who became a new follower of My Life In A Nutshell by the deadline of January 5, 2011, have been chosen.  It was a daunting process that required a long mulling over of how to fairly choose the winners.  Do I put all the names in a hat?  Do I make a list and close my eyes to choose the two lucky winners?  Throw darts?  I seriously wanted to make it fair and equitable for all the contestants.

Here's how it shook out. . . .drum roll. . . . after announcing the contest here, on Facebook, Twitter and other literary and book boards, after 5 days to enter, after collecting all of the names, I decided to pick the first two who became followers believing they were the most eager to win my book.  I have that power - it's my blog, my contest, my book. So Na Nana Boo Boo.

The LUCKY winners of my book giveaway are. . . .

Bill

Larry Enright, author of Four Years From Home




Congratulations to both Bill and Larry Enright!  Please contact me with an address of where to send your valued signed copy of Is It Just Me? or Is Everyone a Little Nuts!
I'm sure you are wondering how many new followers I received from this contest.  The answer? Two.

READ THIS BEFORE MAKING A RESOLUTION

They started early this year, those gym and weight reduction commercials that assault us every time we turn on the television.  They have a great hook, one that a majority are taken in by every single year.  The New Year's Resolution.  That one time where you pledge to do something different, better, more often all in the name of new year.  A flip of the calendar.  Seriously?  If you didn't get my message last year when I painted the scenario: resolve, join gym or diet program, go great guns for a week or two, get tired. . .or hungry, cheat, self flagellate, try again, give up.  The result?  Dollars thrown away and unnecessary guilt all because you felt compelled to announce a resolution when the calendar changes.  Who wins?  The gym, the diet program and now the self help centers that are ready to rush in and repair your ego. . .for a price.  I've said it before and I'll say it again, DON'T DO IT!  Instead, join me for some red wine and dark chocolate.  That's my kind of good health!

You're not going to listen to me, are you?

On a positive note, I am sponsoring a book give away for my book, Is It Just Me? or Is Everyone a Little Nuts!  I have 2 books to give away to any new followers  or current followers who bring in a new follower between now and January 5.  I will announce the winners on the 6th.  Thanks!  And Good Luck!

It's The Big Time Now!

Is It Just Me? or Is Everyone a Little Nuts! has been chosen as a book club selection for clubs in Illinois, Pennsylvania and Texas.  

Upon notification that my book had been selected, I created a set of questions for club discussion - I’m not without a serious side, you know.  Reports back from the Pennsylvania group were positive with the representative telling me that the over all consensus was that they enjoyed the book and were glad for a break from “real”  reading.  

The Texas representative indicated that they, too, laughed their way through the book and used the questions as place mats for their cookies and margaritas.  The rep said, “they don’t like to put too much thought into reading.”

And to top it all off, I was approached by a highly regarded local citizen and asked to speak at the next meeting of one of the highly regarded service groups in town.  While I was thrilled to be asked, I had to decline due to another commitment.  His response? “Well, I guess I don’t have to read it yet then, huh?!”

Does it get better than that?

A Kindred Spirit

Have you ever come across someone who reminds you so much of yourself, you think you may be in a parallel universe?  I recently read Diana Estill's "Stiletto's No More".  Diana has written a column for a number of years but clearly shares the same point of view that I have on the whole aging and parenting thing.  Here is my review:

Stiletto’s No More, by Diana Estill, is a funny, down to earth commentary on the realities of aging. It’s not easy facing the physical changes that occur, without permission I might add, to our bodies when middle age and menopause invade, but Estill faces these occurrences with a wicked wit that any woman will identify with (if not openly then secretly) and embrace. From underwear, to shoes, to the utterly ridiculous and hilarious protocols of local government and the pomp and circumstance involved in the smallest of decisions Estill’s commentary will produce a wry, knowing smile and, in some instances an inappropriate guffaw of which I no longer feel obligated to apologize. 

Diana Estill, author of several humorous books, has written an engaging read perfect for the beach, an airplane or a quiet afternoon. My only wish was that Estill spent more time elaborating, ergo, I wish there was more to read as I was finished too soon.

In case you are looking for something to read. . .just sayin.

Another Baby at 49? I'm Up to It!

I do have a day job you know.  Well, alright, it is a part-time day job.  Three days a week, I am a daycare provider - a nanny, if you will, to an 8 month old baby girl.  I arrive at their house shortly before 7:30 a.m. and am charged with playing, changing and feeding said baby.  My day ends at 3:30 (ish) and if I am lucky, there have been 3 hours worth of napping in that time frame.  At forty-nine, I am finding that I am still capable of doing the mommy thing.  And it got me to thinking,  what if. . .

Well first of all, "if"... then it would have to be an immaculate conception.  That, or we have to go back to the doctor who performed the big V on Dave all of those years ago and make him accountable.  So, settling on immaculate conception as the scenario,  and knowing that I am still able to do the whole baby thing, I believe if an angel came to me (via Twitter or a text message most likely) and told me I would bear the child of God, I could probably do it. . .with a few caveats:

1) I'll need a trainer who will keep me moving through the pregnancy.  I don't want the old body back, but a leg up in creating a new one would be appreciated.
2) I'd like a housekeeper.  I don't want to expose His baby to any dangerous chemicals, strained movements, or housework in general.  After all, this baby is headed for the big time.
3) When the time comes. . . I'd prefer a hospital to a stable.  The final days of pregnancy tend to create internal odors for which I am willing to endure but I will  NOT be in a place where a donkey smells better than I do. And, I require an epidural.  He enabled modern medicine to advance to the epidural level, it would be rude of me not to enjoy the benefits.
4) About the schedule.  I don't do night feedings anymore.
5) No encouraging the baby to crawl or walk, that only asks for trouble later.
6) And strained peas and green beans are just nasty.  I'm not feeding the baby THAT food or changing THAT diaper.  Trust me, it's better that way.  And while we are on the subject of food, the dog kibble is perfectly safe should it be ingested - don't ask me how I know.
7) Finally, I'd prefer not to be awakened until 7 a.m. and I'd like to be done parenting by 3:30 p.m.

I think if those demands can be met, I would make an ideal mother for God's child.  Except, I am about 2043 years too late.

Merry Christmas.

And you all probably thought I was going to announce a surprise baby, didn't you!?