Friday, April 20, 2012

A to Z Honesty - R is for Return to Sender


Sam, who is 11, is home for a few days because he fell at school and has a concussion. Poor little mite. He was headed out for recess on a windy day and the door blew back and caught him on the head, knocking him unconscious when his head hit the pavement. He has two goose eggs on his head and his one eye is bloodshot – now that I think of it he looks a lot like Rocky Balboa.

Thankfully he's feeling better. His headaches are gone and yesterday he ate an entire chocolate rabbit he'd been hoarding since Easter. Who can hoard chocolate, by the way? Can you? I certainly can't. Any chocolate that I've ever seen has a best before date of MUST EAT NOW.

While I would love to stay at home with Sam and help him eat chocolate, I have to work. Sigh. Always that work thing. I remember thinking, when I was Sam's age, that I would work only until I secured a husband and then rest on my laurels and eat bon-bons for the rest of my life. Well, I'm on husband #2 now and I'm still working. Talk about the best laid plans ... why can't I be a welfare mom like everybody else? Half of my relatives are welfare moms. The rest are welfare dads. Is there a course for this? A sign-up sheet? Feck...

So anyway (quit distracting me like this, will ya?), Sam has to stay home while we go to work. I say to him, "Don't use the electrical stove. Don't touch the wood stove. Don't let the cats out. Do let the dog out. Don't forget to let the dog in. Don't go anywhere. Don't fart. Don't breathe. And please, no matter what, keep the door locked and do not let strangers in.

Sam nods.

I get to work, literally just walk through the door, and my friend Leah says, "Did you pass Vic on the way?"

Leah and Vic are good friends. They have a key to our house and they only have one car. Sometimes when Vic needs the car she comes into work with Leah and then uses our house as her command centre. Which is fine by us.

Usually.

"Feck!" I say. "Sam's there! Last thing I said to him was don't let anyone in the house. He's gonna be peeing his pants when he sees Vic."

I call home. Vic answers. "Is everything OK?" I ask. Vic laughs. Apparently Sam was making toast when our dog started barking and he realized someone was at the door. He didn't move. Stood stock still by the toaster. Hoping the person jangling keys at the door would just go away. Meanwhile, Vic, who has 1,400 keys that all look identical, was trying to figure out which key unlocked our front door. She had no idea Sam was inside. She just kept trying key after key after key. Finally she found the right one and the door opened.

"Hi," said Sam. Vic screamed and crapped her pants.

That was the other day. Yesterday I refreshed the same mother litany of don'ts on Sam with this one addendum - if Vic shows up, try not to scare the shit out of her. And don't let anyone BUT Vic in the house.

A few hours later Sam phones me. He's a little bit hysterical. "Is Vic there?" I ask. "NO," he says, "but I saw this bald guy coming up the walk so I put my pants on..."

"You had no pants on?"

"I just got out of the shower. Remember? You told me I needed a shower?"

I nod. Even though I'm on the phone.

Sam continues. "So I was trying to get my pants on and the bald guy was at the door but by the time I was dressed he was gone. He left a package. A cardboard package."

Ooooh, a PACKAGE. Nothing makes the heart lighter than a package. "Who's it for?" I ask. Greedily.

"Some guy named Robert Cooper. Can I open it?"

Robert Cooper used to own our house, like YEARS ago. Like, several owners ago. Every once in a while we get Christmas cards for Robert Cooper. We always hang them up along with the two or three cards we get. Makes us feel popular. Like we have actual friends.

"No, I say, "you can't open it." Even though I really, really want him to open it. It could be a box full of cash. Or a new puppy. Or bon-bons. The possibilities are intoxicating. This could be it. The life-changing whatchamacallit. The pivot upon which all things will move forward from. I'm looking at the package right now, as I write this, and it's everything I can do not to say "feck it" and reach over and just open the damned thing.

I will not, though. In fact, I have already contacted UPS and they will be coming to retrieve the mysterious parcel and either find the equally mysterious Robert Cooper or Return it to Sender.

No doubt the bald guy will show up when Sam is here by himself. Hopefully he has his pants on this time. Sam, not the bald guy. Although, seriously, the bald guy better fecking well have pants on ...

35 comments:

  1. Oh, that was a good laugh! Thanks!

    I have a twelve year old. If he gets to stay home for a while alone, I tell him don't answer the door, don't answer the phone, don't use the stove, etc. Think of what trouble he might get in if the computer hadn't been invented!?! He usually answers the phone and either forgets to mention that the doctors office called to remind his sister of her appointment, or if he does remember to mention the call, he doesn't remember who called or any pertinent details. We tell him to let the answering machine get it.

    Oddly, he does not like chocolate. The ONLY one in the family who doesn't like chocolate!

    Hope Sam feels better soon!

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    1. He doesn't like chocolate? Maybe he's an alien... is there green behind his ears? I'd be checking if I were you...

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  2. Wow - laughter IS the best medicine! ;-)

    The imagery this created made it run like a movie in my mind (thinking Macaulay Kulckin & 'Home Alone') - but I did have a damn good laugh, Cathy! Tears rolling down my cheeks :-D

    (and you know what the last 24 hours have been like for me, so 'laffin time' was well overdue!)
    ;-p

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  3. When we first moved to the UK my girls (who were 13 and 15!) called 911 on the package guy. Actually its 999 there. Anyway, he knew they were home because two girls trying to be quiet make a lot of noise. So he came around the back and looked in the window and that's when they got on the phone. Seriously, though that was a little creepy.

    I never hoard chocolate.

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    1. Hahahahaha! Called 999 on the package guy! Poor package guy... But you know? They did the right thing... looking in the back window IS really creepy.

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  4. This was so funny Cathy! My little boy never seems to have pants on either!! And we refer to the UPS guy as the gift truck in our house.Sort of like Santa with a brown truck.

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    1. "Gift truck." See? That's a fantastic expression. Mind if I steal it? And hey, I'm pretty sure working for UPS is what Santa does in his spare time.

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  5. Replies
    1. Yes it is, actually. I look at other people's lives and am actually wistful for their lack of dullness...my friend is in New York City for the weekend. I am here, at home, with a head cold. My big excitement was going to Subway for supper last night. I mean, WOOT, right? Now YOUR life is exciting, Alex, you bestselling author you...

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  6. I so very much enjoy my visits here! Never, and I mean NEVER, a dull moment!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dull right now. At this moment, I am Queen of Dull. Snoozing at my own dullness...

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  7. I would be scared out of my pea pickin mind leaving an eleven year old home alone....like....will there be a house left when I get out of work lol?

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    1. Oh it's the OLDEST son that I worry about - has he impregnated the girlfriend? Yet? (Only a matter of time unless I give him "the snip" when he's not looking...)

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  8. Ha Ha I remember those days well.You just can't go through enough senarios with them because you just never know what will happen.

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    1. You are so funny! We know how you feel about missing out on the course that allows you to sit around eating bon-bons and I am on my 3rd husband. Still we haven't had much construction work for the past three years here in C.O. so I sit around and blog.

      I'm glad that Sam is feeling better, that must have been a scary fall. Hope you all have a great weekend!

      Kathy M.

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    2. We can only try, Cassam... and try... and try... and so on... and try...

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    3. Kathy M!!!!! Husband number three??? You are my new hero! You are like the Elizabeth Taylor of Blogland! Do you have large diamonds and violet eyes? I bow to your wondrous and obviously impressive abilities!!!

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  9. Oh dear, too serious and too funny.

    Despite never marrying I still can't sit on my butt eating bon-bons. What is the magic number do you think? It isn't none, two or three. Since you and Oregon Gifts of Comfort and Joy moved past number one we can safely assume that isn't the magic number either. And I don't think anyone should have to test drive men to find it. Someone must know...

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    1. Maybe one of those Kardashian sisters, EC! What a funny, funny comment, btw! I would LOVE to sign up to test drive men! Wouldn't that be AWESOME? :)

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  10. It COULD be a box full of cash, but alas, we are Canadian and by definition honest to a fault, at least those of us who don't hold public office, or work for an insurance company or an oil company or a bank...

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    Replies
    1. Yeah, I know -- sometimes it sucks being Canadian, eh?

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  11. I needed this. Thanks. Huge fecking grin on my face. Peace...

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  12. This year I had to make the heartbreaking decision to let my youngest get off the bus on his own. Mind you, I was only not home when he got off the bus 5 times this year because of our lack of snow. None the less, one of those days he was home for an hour before I got home. AND the verizon chick came by to discuss our "incredibly urgent need for FIOS".

    Not only did my genius son open the frickin' door, but he told her I wasn't home.

    *sigh*

    So this summer he's enrolled in a at home safety course, and I am trying to take a pay cut so I can be home before school is out everyday. PS, he does go to camp all day in the summer, it just wasn't feasible to have him in after school care.)

    And since we have a combination lock on the back door, he's been instructed to let no one in. Not even me. Because if I'm the real me, and not a cheap impostor, I'll be able to let myself in. :)

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    1. Juli, you make me laugh. "told her I wasn't home."

      Yup. I've got boys like that. Geniuses, all.

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  13. What a funny story. I am like this when I leave my kids at home alone.

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    1. It just freaks you out, wondering what they're up to. But generally they're pretty fine and pretty safe being at home; probably a lot safer in these four walls than tackling the big bad world of school.

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  14. Sam, you are lucky to get to stay home. I hope your head does not hurt too bad.

    ps: Can't you just peek into the parcel? Just a tiny peek?

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  15. I just called Sam over to read your comment... he's quite bowled over by your message because we often read your posts together. He thinks you're the funniest cat on the internet!

    No Daisy! We can't peek!!!! (I bet there isn't a safe present in your whole house at Christmas time!)

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  16. The middle child in my book is named Sam and is about the same age. Well, he's 10 in The House on the Corner, and 11 in Brother's Keeper.

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