Secret Mission: Hulk and the Impossible Chair

"Here,"  the little blonde boy says to me.  He sticks out a half piece of lined notebook paper torn from his mother's notebook.  There are scribbles in different colored Crayon all over one side, I turn it to see the other.  He has scrawled his name in capital letters, "GUNNER" with seven "N's" written on the bottom.

"I'm leaving," he continues,"this is a letter so you'll remember me."

"Where are you going?"

He looks hard into my eyes as if I couldn't understand even if he told me.

"You won't understand."

He does an about-face in the hallway and goose steps to the kitchen counter, sighing at the unknown mission ahead of him.  Mumbling to himself, but purposefully loud enough so that I can hear him he says,

"I've got so much to do.  I still have to write a letter to my Mom and Emery," the chunky house dog interrupts his sentence with a loud snort, he looks down at her and then back to his papers, slapping his forehead in dismay, "I knew I was forgetting someone."

I watch him work.  He is enveloped in writing these notes of departure using the care of a surgeon to make each line precisely the way it needs to be with exactly the color it was meant to be written with.  First the scribbles on one side which are by no means anarchistic, but instead a chaotic display of proper placement. Then, in a flash he flips the paper over.  G, new color, U, new color, N, new color in a pattern until his name is spelled out and all the extra N's are in place.


"So,"  I say, " where are you going?  You can tell me.  I have a security clearance."

His head shoots up, his forehead wrinkles as he tries to decipher my angle.

"What's a clearance?"

"It means I can know secret stuff."

Gunner is not satisfied with my explanation.

"Super.  Secret.  Stuff."

He eases a bit, sets down his blue Crayon gently and takes a long sip of juice from his Justice League cup. Young Justice he calls it.

"Okay," he says, "you can know, but first you gotta promise."

"Anything,"  I say, "consider it promised."

"You gotta promise if I don't come back you'll take care of Nickel and my Mom."

"Absolutely."

I move in close, slowly.  Carefully.  I slide into the seat next to him and offer a gummy worm to win his favor. He accepts and chews it delighted.

"Mmm.  I love green worms.  They taste so," he says, "green."

I can't help but laugh and he does too.  He grabs my arm in a second, though.

"Wait, this is serious,"  he grabs my face and holds me still to prepare for the graveness of the situation, "There's zombies out there, Emery told me about them.  They're going to come in here if someone doesn't stop them."

It is torture to fight laughing this hard.


"So I have to leave.  That's what the letter says.  Keep it forever and tell my Mom to keep it forever, too."

"I will, Bunny,"  I say. "But don't you need a weapon or something."

In a blink he rips off his shirt and leaps down from his chair, smashing the floor with both fists.

"I am a weapon!"  he says.

Penny snorts and jumps up, "running" away from the kitchen and back to my bedroom where she hides wrapped among her quilt in what I can only imagine is primal fear of the four year old superhuman she shares a house with.  Gunner's face grimaces as he breaths in and out deeply through clenched teeth.

"Someone's got to stop the zombies," he growls, "someone like the Hulk."


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In other, non-zombie related news Elsa's room is finished!  I will upload the pictures tomorrow, the boys were helpful.  Overall, I am really pretty proud of how it turned out.  Abby did a really great job putting the final touches on the decorations and we got everything put together and moved into it.  Except the damn glider, of course.

We bought it on clearance way, way back like when we first found out about being pregnant and it did not come with bolts or instructions.  Since I nor her are proficient in French, the customer service and website were no help.  I've scoured the interwebs far and wide for a solution, but to no avail.  I took it to Decatur Bolt last week and thought I had a breakthrough, but turns out I was wrong.  If anyone knows magic we'd sure appreciate our chair being mystified back together.

Good night!

From the Mouth of Em

Emery discussed his future business plans today while we waited in line at the Wendy's drive-thru.  I needed to share them.  (Emery is italicized and I am bold, for clarity.  Enjoy!)

"You know what would be better, Dad?  Faster food where they don't forget your toy all the time."

He paused for a second.  I could hear the wheels spinning in his head.

"I should just open my own restaurant, you know?"

"Yeah," I said, "What're you gonna call it?"

"Fancy, Fast."

"That's a pretty good name, says what people wanna hear."

"Oh no," he said, "It's not what they wanna hear, it's what they'll have.  I'll make my workers go through tough training.  And you know what happens if they're late three times?"

"What?"

"Gone.  Outta there.  You know what happens if they forget a toy or they mess up your food?"

"Fired?  After one time?"  I asked, "That's a little harsh."

"Pssh, not if you wanna work at 'Fancy, Fast.'  I have to be the best so McDonald's and Wendy's can't be around my restaurant."

"Aren't you my little capitalist?"

He was obviously confused.

"What?  Does that mean I'm gonna have the best restaurant?  Then yes, I'll be a capitless.  Will you come work for me, Dad?  I'll pay you twenty bucks, two times.  And you can have free lunch."

"Ha, ha, sure, buddy.  I'll work for you."

"Awesome!"  he became very serious before he said, 

"Don't be late."

Good night!  

What a Heart Looks Like on the Outside (Part III): Abby Marie

Babydoll-


Today is your day.

It is the second birthday of yours that I have had the luck to spend with you.  Whatever I have to thank for this time with you, I can't sing it's praises enough.


The definition of "magnificent" is impressively beautiful and striking.  I can't think of a better word to describe you.  Even now over a year into "us" I see you walk into the room and I am struck by your beauty.  I am still in awe of you.

You are my partner, something I never believed could exist outside of blood ties.  I am more "me" with you than I've ever been at any time in my life.  We talk nightly for hours about everything, anything, and nothing and that's exactly what I want to do because I'm doing it with you.  Your smile illuminates my world, your eyes lock mine into place and I feel at home.



I could (and am) write stories everyday about the way you make me feel.  Together there is no wall unbreakable, no obstacles immovable, and no way either of us will ever have to do anything alone ever again.

The road we took to get here was unorthodox to say the least, but Montagues were murderously embittered by Capulets yet Romeo found Juliet.  Throughout time the greatest romances sprang from unlikely places and sadly some do not ever find what I feel with you.  You're my June Carter.  My best friend.




All of my life I always felt I was looking for something.  Something better.  Something somewhere else.  I'd been around the world twice, yet I came back here still searching.  I began to believe searching was just what I did, what I was supposed to do.  Then, we found each other.

I'm not searching anymore.  I'm living.

Happy birthday, baby.  You are my partner.  My best friend and support.  My other half.  My infinite.  My heart.  I love you.

Forever yours,

-Me

Back At It

Whew!

It's been one heck of a crazy busy week.  I've finally got some down time to write tonight.  The Decatur Celebration was going on downtown this past week and Abby spent a crazy amount of time working.  If you don't know her and I only have one car. When she works from the morning (9-11 AM) until closing time I am limited in where I can get around to during those days since I live between two very busy roads and have at least one small child trekking with me at all times.

On top of that, Abby's birthday is today.  I have an insatiable love for surprising people.  I plan meticulously and spread myself as thin as possible to ensure the recipient of my gift(s) is genuinely astonished.  My big present was to paint and decorate Elsa's room in total secrecy through the week even though my artistic talent resembles that of a snail and I've never painted a room before.

Oh. . .and Bunny physically cannot keep a secret.  Emery is a little better, but he really fancies being the "cool-in-the-know" dude so he may keep your secret for a little bit before he sneaks over to whisper it to Bunny.  When I say that Bunny cannot physically keep a secret, I mean he looks as if his insides are writhing in anxiety because he has the launch codes to start World War III when all you asked him to do was not tell Emery that I took a sip of his chocolate milk.  The truth sets Bunny free.

I'm not really complaining.  I'm glad it's not the other way around for the most part, but when you only have six hours out of the house in a week that you have to get paint, brushes, tape, decals, etc. it makes for an incredible inconvenience.  Explaining to a four year old that he can't enter a room, but not being able to say why is confusing.

  

"What is goin' on in Elsa's room?"  Bunny asked.

"Oh, nothing."

"But I hear you in there when I'm layin' down.  And something is stinky."

"Oh, you know.  Spiders."

"Spiders?"  He started to push the door open.  I quickly pulled it shut.

"Big ones.  They stink."  I said.

"We should tell my Mom."  He pointed up in the air and jumped like an overreactive detective solving a riddle.

"No, no.  We shouldn't do that.  She'll be too scared.  She needs to rest when she's home, it's a busy week this week, buddy."

"Hmm," he very clearly disapproved of my approach in dealing with imaginary, giant arachnids,"ooooh-kay."

I caught him a few times laying on the hall floor, peaking under the door, heckling the imaginary pests.  At some point he got brave and went in Elsa's room unbeknownst to me and witnessed all of what I'd been doing.  On Friday night as I put him to bed he was holding his ribs and very restless.  He needed to tell me something important.

"I told Mommy about Elsa's room."  He confessed.

"You did?"

"I'm sorry.  I was in there and I told her 'come look, Mom.'  It was an accident."

I promised I wasn't mad and kissed him good night.  At that point, I'd only accomplished getting part of one wall and some trim around the door done.  I would be lying if I said I wasn't very disappointed, but after a cup of coffee and some hard studying, I took it as a challenge.  Now I would surprise both of them.

Saturday night we had a bit of a scare.  Abby had pretty tough contractions and we went to the hospital immediately after she got off of work.  We were up there until about 4 AM.  Thankfully nothing was wrong, she was a combination of overworked and dehydrated and so we were sent home.  I told her that I knew she had already seen Elsa's room.  Unfortunately, she had not.  She said that Gunner had begged her to come in and look, but she wouldn't.  I felt like a jackass.  

Elsa's wall before.

After returning home I took her in the room and showed her.  Her tired eyes lit up and she loved it.  Part one of my mission was accomplished.

The next morning I stood in the living room and listened to Bunny sneak in.

Elsa's wall after!

"WHOA!"

He sprinted out to me, bewildered.

"Did you know that a tree grew on Elsa's wall?!"

Good night!