Inner city

"Officer E!" the little boy, a second grader, called. He waved his hand in the air amid the chatter of the classroom.

"Yeah, what's up?"

"I need to whisper something to you."

So Officer E, as he's known around his new school, headed to the boy's desk and leaned in, ready to hear his secret. But another kid made a show of eavesdropping, so the whispering would have to wait.

"I know," said Officer E. "Why don't you come up here and help me?"

The boy went to the front of the class to hold some visual aids for the day's lesson, reminding Officer E that backup now comes not in screaming sirens but small friendships.

After a while the class, distracted with other tasks, forgot about the boy and his whisper. Officer E leaned down to hear what his young friend needed to say. The boy cupped his hand around his mouth and pressed it to the policeman's ear.

"My dad's in jail," the child said quietly, then paused. "If you see him, will you say hi to him?"

Noah, Officer E, set his hand on the boy's shoulder, patted it gently.

"Sure, buddy. Of course I will."

They didn't cover this in Academy.

Aaaaaaand WOOPS

Sorry, I was still a bit woozy.

Copswife blogs at Married to the Law (the link I attached was correct).

However, I'd like to give props to Ordinary Life of a Police Wife as well.

(P.S. Neither of these fine ladies said anything about my goof, by the way. It just hit me, like a lightening bolt, not unlike the time I realized literally seconds after turning in a final exam in college that I had referred to humans as homo erectus instead of homo sapiens.)

Strange things are happening to me

I have loads of things to tell you since my parents arrived on Thursday afternoon. Such as my Dad texting me frantically on Friday to say that Noah's Xbox had the red ring of death but he didn't do anything but turn it on he swears (update: Xbox fixed itself miraculously). But I'm just not up to it right now.

Thanks to all for your dreamy time suggestions. I took a sick day today, though, because I've been having some other weird symptoms. Like falling asleep in the bath at 2 o'clock in the afternoon, for instance, after having slept for nine hours the night before. So I went to the doctor, where I promptly fainted. He ordered some tests.

Meanwhile, I'd like to thank Mrs. Fuzz for giving me the Honest Scrap award.

I have to list ten honest things about myself, then pass along the award to seven other bloggers. Please forgive if this is a repeat award for some of you. You're all so talented, I can't keep track.

Ten Honest Things About Me:

1. Whenever I eat a Cinnabon, I always start on the outside to save the inside for last because that's my favorite part, but by the time I get to the inside I'm full. I usually stuff it down anyway.
2. I never really liked bacon until I got pregnant with Ethan. I still love it.
3. Part of the reason Noah and I decided to get married before our senior year of college instead of waiting until after graduation was the fact that we'd save money—we got some grants, as well as paying way less for housing since we lived together in an apartment.
4. I'm very proud to be friends with a number of fantastic published authors (such as Lisa, Anne & May, and Kimberly Stewart), but I often wonder if I have what it takes to join their ranks.
5. I like to tidy up but not to clean. Although I love a clean house.
6. I'm not sure when I want to have our next child. I've gotten used to being three.
7. The thought has crossed my mind more than once to have Cody shaved. He'd look ridiculous, and it would certainly embarrass him, but all the shedding is driving me absolutely batty.
8. It really bothers me that we don't have recycling pickup in our part of the county.
9. William Butler Yeats is my favorite poet.
10. I sometimes wonder if I should have gotten a king bed instead of a queen, although I'm still just not sure.

And now, I'd like to present this award to...

Dan of All That Comes with It, because he's always honest about being dishonest
Sal of Already Pretty, because she tells it like it is when it comes to body image
Jules of Pancakes and French Fries, because she got permanent marker out of sofa fabric and didn't pretend it was easy
Lisa of Mastering the Miles, because she's always up front about her aches and pains, although I'd like to remind her that she has aches and pains because SHE RUNS LONG, LONG DISTANCES
Jen of Harried Mom of Four, because hello, she doesn't have time to tell tales
Copswife of Ordinary Life of a Police Wife, because she doesn't ever sugarcoat the tough aspects of being married to a cop
Christopher of The Warrior Poets, because honesty and integrity are totally what he's all about

Somebody hand me the Tylenol PM

Lately I haven't been sleeping well. A lot of tossing and turning, combined with stressed-out dreams.

Stressed-out dreams for me include bandits hacking into my work computer and making bad mistakes, and forgetting about a horrible math class until the end of the semester when I realize I haven't gone to it at all and I don't even remember the time or location of it.

I don't know where this is all coming from, but it's exhausting.

And if you threw a (Halloween) party and invited everyone you knew, you would see the biggest gift would be from me...

(click the photo to enlarge our Golden Girls goodness)

You're welcome.

Also, this is the second year in a row I've bought a wig for Halloween. But don't you agree that my 100% silk blouse for $3.75 from Goodwill is very of the moment?

A knack for storage

Tonight, we had a chicken salad for dinner.

For dessert, we had Reese's Cups.

Ethan ate his Reese's Cup. After a few minutes, I noticed he had something in his mouth. He opened wide to reveal a nearly whole piece of chicken, the same piece he had in his mouth when he started to eat the Reese's.

In other news, I did a thorough cleaning and organizing of Ethan's room this weekend. In his toy box I found the following items, among others: a battery, a commemorative coin, a moldy sippy cup half-full of milk, a computer mouse, two empty makeup containers, and two tubes of hand lotion.

Perhaps eenie meenie miney moe is the best route

Whenever anyone asks me to do something for them because I am A Professional Writer and Editor, I do two things: 1) Feel smugly satisfied, 2) Accept. Ninety-nine percent of the time, these are things I want to do.

For instance, starting next quarter, I'm going to be the editor of the Forsyth County Humane Society newsletter. I love me some animals, but I'm not in a position to foster or adopt any at the moment for the next decade, so this is a great way to volunteer. Plus, my best friend is FCHS's Vice President, and she threatened to not be my friend anymore if I didn't do it.

The other day I got a call from a friend who we went to church with when Noah was a youth minister. Her kids' school is having a literature contest (poems and stories on the theme "Beauty is...") and she wanted to know if I'd be the judge.

I'll go ahead and admit that one of my main character flaws is liking the idea of sitting in judgment of others when in reality I HATE judging (unless I'm the one being judged, and I'm winning), a fact I always forget while I'm basking in the warmth of flattery. I mean, I don't even like watching the end of dog shows, because I can't stand that only one dog can win, and it's usually the standard poodle.

So why on earth did I agree to judge this elementary-school literature contest when deep down I knew that I'd feel responsible for crushing the creative dreams of those poor children who don't receive first, second, third or honorable mention?

Now watch as I equate this literature contest to a dog show: In both situations, I feel like a cruel puppet master, because the dogs and the children think they're just having fun, but in reality they're being scrutinized. "Fluffy, I know you skipped the tunnel because you like the balance beam better, but that makes you dumb and YOU LOSE."

My solution to this moral dilemma is to put this off as long as possible. Because Noah refused to do it for me.