Well, here we are again. Just me and the boys, home by ourselves, as Jeff is away for the 74th time this year. As he tells Ethan, “The President needs me!” And speaking of the President, last night I dreamed that his daughters were playing and somehow some horrible accident happened. Obama swept in (“in” being the forest…) and performed some emergency surgery, saving her life using only a straw, a pocket knife and a banana. If you can tell me what this means, please don’t. I don’t think I want to know what a dream like this means.
So anyway, yeah, Jeff’s gone. For some reason, I’m overly concerned about dinner the next few days, even though I’m only cooking for the three of us. Lately dinner has been a very stressful part of the day, since certain people refuse to eat just about everything. I’m running out of meal ideas that they’ll eat with minimal fuss. (Thank goodness for Whole Foods’ already prepared stuff; I just picked up coconut chicken and letter-shaped potato things. Add some carrots and we’re good.) (Although that still leaves at least one more night. I might just give them a loaf of bread and juice boxes and see what happens.)
Another source of stress while Jeff’s gone is our neighborhood, which when we first moved here, appeared to be very safe. We were told, in fact, by many people, that it was safe. But uh, you remember my meandering stranger, right? Shortly after that near catastrophe, there was the complete moron (who, it turned out, lived on the next street over) who drove his car into the grass in the boulevard in front of our house (why, we STILL don’t know) and got it stuck there. The police showed up and told him he needed to have it towed. He either refused or just did not understand (English was not his first language) (or his second, or his third, apparently), and chose instead to pull his car out himself. With some ropes. That he tied to something inside his other car (which he’d walked home and driven back). Then everyone watched for the next 45 minutes or so while he tried to pull it out. Which, eventually, did happen. Only we live on a slight incline. So when he got it going, and then continued to drive (THE WRONG WAY) (our side of the boulevard is a one-way) on down the street, the car he was pulling behind him picked up speed. And smashed right into the parked car of a neighbor, mere inches from our own parked car.
Not exactly a reason for me to fear our neighborhood, I know. (Unless I should fear stupidity.) (Which I totally do.) It’s just that there never seems to be a dull moment around this place. Take, for example, what happened in the middle of the night the last time Jeff was away. It was like, 1 am and I was just starting to get ready for bed, when I heard car doors slamming repeatedly. It went on long enough that I went into one of the darkened rooms in the house that looks out front to the street. I saw a car parked on the side of the road, not running, all the lights off. Pulled over next to it, still running, lights on, was another car. There were people taking things out of the parked car and putting them into the car that was running. I wasn’t scared, now that I knew the door-closing sounds I’d heard wasn’t a gang of ninjas getting out of their ninja cars, preparing to sneak into my house and ambush me. (Though, if that WAS what had been going on, all their noise would have ruined the ambush part of the attack, in which case they’d be sucky ninjas, and me and my baseball bat probably could have taken them.) (Which is a thought that comforts me greatly.)
So, from my point of view, when I looked out the window and saw this, I assumed that someone’s car had broken down, and that some kind friends had shown up to pick them up, and they were just grabbing a few things out of their car before leaving it until morning, when they’d come back with a tow truck. Or something. Honestly, I wasn’t paying that much attention. I was just so happy to see that there were no ninjas.
The next afternoon, I noticed the car was still there, but I didn’t think much of it. A neighbor stopped by and asked if I’d seen the car. “It’s stolen,” he said. “I called the police and they’ll be here soon.” How he knew this, I have no idea. But sure enough, the police arrived and said that yes, it was stolen. They also said that given our proximity to a major highway, we are apparently a great place dump stolen vehicles. AWESOME.
They took an official statement from me, the sole witness. And I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that they’ve already caught the non-ninja bad guys, given the amazing accuracy with which I recalled details from that night. The car? It was big. Like, bigger than a sedan. An SUV? Perhaps. A truck? Could have been. A van? Maybe. Maybe a van. As for color? Dark. It was definitely a dark color. Like blue. Or black. And there were… 2 of them. Or 3. Miiiight have been 5. But I am for SURE that it was more than one person. What did they look like? Um. I don’t know. People-like. With arms and heads and stuff. And hair. I remember seeing some hair.
So uh, yeah. We live in a neighborhood full of meandering strangers and car-stealing people with arms and heads and hair. Ohmygoodness, I need to go make sure I locked the doors. The ninjas have SURELY heard about this neighborhood and it’s only a matter of time!
Which is why I am SO GRATEFUL that I’ve at least got this guy around to protect me:
Seriously, who would want to mess with him? I would not mess with him. Watch out, ninjas.
(His 2010 calendar will be on sale in November.)