Leave a Light on for Me

I don’t know why we were talking about lightbulbs, but we were because somehow the conversation led us that way. And every time I change a lightbulb, or see one that is out, I think of Donna. It’s just one of those weird things.

“I still haven’t had to change the lightbulb at the top of my steps,” Donna said. “Roger (her husband who passed away in the house) must be looking out for me. He knows I could never reach it.” Donna is as short as me, which means just about 5 foot tall. Shhh. Don’t laugh at us short people.

“I still can’t believe it hasn’t gone out. How long has it been now?” I ask. But yes, I do believe her.

“Twelve years.” 

“You know, that is crazy. Nobody would believe you if you told them,” I add.

“I know. But I haven’t ever had to change that lightbulb. I don’t know how I  even would if it went out. It is right at the top of the steps at the highest part of the house. Even if I put a ladder there I wouldn’t be able to reach it and I would be dangling over the stairs.”

“I just can’t see a lightbulb lasting that long. But your house is weird anyways,” I tell her.

She has told me so many stories, I think her house is haunted…or has visitors you just can’t see. Lights flickering when the grandchildren are around and many other strange tales. Her aunt and grandmother passed away in the house, too. Maybe she just has a lot of guardian angels.

But who in the heck has ever had a lightbulb last 12 YEARS?!?! That is nuts.


There are Brain Eating Ghosts in my Basement

I wasn’t able to get any laundry done today because there are  brain eating ghosts in my basement. For real.

It all started when I was doing laundry…

which is a chore I do not particularly like, but has to be done. I get in a mode of sorting and tossing, make a pile here, kick some stuff over there, glance into the other room and check on the boys. I peel off the soft pink lint from the dryer screen and smoosh it in my hand as I finish throwing in the next load of blankets, add a dryer sheet, and am ready to get outta there. “C’mon, kids! Lets go back upstairs.”

Bradley rolls up to me, “Hey, mom. Pretend I’m a ghost and you can’t see me,” he says, jumping off his scooter. (yea, we ride scooters in the basement, we have cabin fever.)

“Collin, did you hear something?” I say, playing right along and walking past Bradley.

Bradley outstretches his arms in zombie fashion and starts moaning like a ghost, “I’m going to eat your brains.”

“I can’t see anything, but I sure did hear something,” I say to Collin, running and picking him up, “C’mon, baby! We gottta get out of here!” I swoosh down and scoop Collin up, “There are ghosts down here,” and up the stairs I sprint.

At the top of the steps I glance back and see Bradley’s smile over my shoulder. I shut the door in his face. Ha ha. I love pretend.

“Ma-OOOOO-om! I was right behind you.”

“I think that ghost is upstairs now,” I say as I look over him and walk right past him. His eyes light up again and he starts chasing me, “Brains taste soooo good. MMMMmmmm…CHOMP. Chomp.”

Bradley came home from preschool with his crown. He so reminded me of Max from, "Where the Wild Things Are." Especially with all the pretending we have been doing.

I want to stop and tell him that “in real life” zombies eat brains and walk with their arms out, and ghosts float around moaning…but who says in Bradley’s world of pretend? So I play along. BUT…you have to remember who makes the rules in pretend- the five-year old, of course!

And these are my days…

Changing three sets of dirty diapers  throughout the day, waking up and feeding TWO babies at 3 am, working on a volcano sized pile of laundry before it erupts and engulfs us all with dirty clothes, scrubbing the bathroom floor on my hands and knees (and realizing these boys need to aim better), scraping toothpaste off the bathroom sink, and cooking dinner is hard work. And that is just a few of the things I do around here. We wont talk about the dust bunnies under the couch mocking me or the cobwebs in a couple of the corners cursing at me. Ok. ok. I’m getting carried away and exaggerating…only on the last part though.

I also get to…

Dance in my pajamas, build boats out of play-doh, graph with Skittles and eat the results, play with friendly monsters that live under the bed, count on my fingers and toes, build forts, eat cheese pizza under the dining room table, play with army guys, and run from brain eating ghosts…these are company perks.