Sunday, July 29 is my birthday. I am somewhat amazed (and proud) to have lived this long, (54 years) given my “colorful” past - LOL!
It will be tinged with sadness though, as Middle Son has flown the coop.
For an attic.
Yes, the lad, now 21 years old, has packed up his stuff and taken off to share an abode with his lady-love. Her cousin offered them accommodations. The offer is rent-free, so I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised to learn that their new habitat would be more suitable if I’d given birth to Batman.
In honor of his leaving, I am reprinting a chapter from Queen Klutz that featured some of his antics. If you’d like to give and receive on my birthday, please buy a copy. I guarantee you’ll gets lots of laughs, and I will be so happy to have made you laugh and make a dollar- LOL!
CHAPTER 10
A Roaring Fire
Boy - 1, little green army man - 0
Think sitting in front of a roaring fire is relaxing?
Well, maybe…if it’s not in your front yard!
Yesterday, Middle Son, “Mr. Physics,” went outside with a little green army man, a magnifying glass, his knowledge of the effects of magnified sunlight, and his boyish desire to destroy things.
His plan was to watch the little green army man melt down in a faux UFO laser attack.
Had himself a good ol’ time, right up to the point where the little (now very hot) green army man melted and fell over onto some dry leaves.
Dry leaves at the base of a row of pine trees.
Ka-whoosh!
FIRE!
Fire getting bigger. Wind blowing. Fire spreading fast. Fire engulfing more pine trees, dead weeds, dried leaves.
Son runs to house and screams, “FIRE!!!”
I ask where, thinking he means somewhere off in the distance.
“RIGHT THERE!” he exclaims, pointing towards the blazing yard.
I hobble out, survey the inferno, realize in a microsecond that it is beyond our control, and tell him to get the hose and I will call 911.
I report a fire, and become irritated when they say, “It’s just in a field, right? No structures are involved?”
I tell them that it is growing rapidly in the strong wind and that there is a house not too far away, which will be directly in its path if it continues to burn unchecked. I warn them that the blaze will incinerate the entire town if they don’t put it out. Luckily for us, the wind was blowing away from our house, so there was no immediate danger of it igniting.
I went back outside; and asked Middle Son how this happened. He says he has no idea. He is wearing his best Innocent Child face.
I suspect he is lying.
As I hear the firetruck approaching, I say, “OK look, I don’t know what started this, but I am going to tell the firefighters that you noticed something unusual, and ran to tell me, is that clear? I don’t want you to go to jail, so you don’t know anything, got it?” (I didn’t think they would take him to jail, even if he admitted starting it, but I wanted to instill the fear of God in him.)
Son nodded his head nervously.
I continued, “You are confounded by fire. You have no idea what it is or where it comes from. You are as pure as fresh-fallen snow. You are nearly mute. You speak only when spoken to, and then in brief one or two word responses. I am going to say that Dad just left for work and perhaps his exhaust pipe touched the dry weeds. IS THAT CLEAR?”
Shaking badly, he nods again.
The firefighters got the fire put out, and we thanked them profusely. We came back inside, and I sent Daughter outdoors to check on the cats, a ruse to speak alone with Middle Son.
I put on my Stern Mother face, and said, “OK, give it to me straight. How did this happen?”
That is when the story of the magnifying glass/army man was revealed. I said, “Where is the magnifying glass now?”
He said he put it back in Dad’s toolbox, where he found it.
“The investigators may return. Did you wipe your fingerprints off it?” I asked, struggling not to grin, as I watched his face take on a fresh look of terror. (Gawd, I can be cruel, huh?)
He stammered, “Sh-sh-should I?”
Still straight-faced, I said, “Definitely. Immediately”.
He tore out the door so fast I am not sure his feet touched the ground. I dare not wonder, “What next?”
Insanity is hereditary.
You get it from your children.
Samuel Levenson
SUNDAY UPDATE: This is my third year of announcing my birthday on this blog. I am so grateful for all of the wonderful people I have met through the Internet. You have given me such joy and support, I want to say “THANK YOU”! And as I said on Twitter, I will write it on my belly in lipstick to anyone I meet in person today - LOL! Peace and love to all of you.
Posted by Marti @ 
