family,  neighbors,  orphans,  photo dump,  wreck

Recap & Wreck Part II

Recap
A small recap of the week’s events:

Nephew: My nephew has a name! We are excited to meet baby Lincoln sometime in Mayish!!

 
Bugs: Those long-legged bugs with a 12 second lifespan are about to drive me insane. Our house has approximately 23 of them flying around at any given moment, and last night I woke up to one dive-bombing into my forehead. Die, you flying freaks. That is maybe too harsh. Let’s try: Fly back outside, you weirdo bugs.  

Revelation: I really want to adopt a child(ren), right? So I had a dream last week of an adoption agency in Ghana that helped find families for the children who aged out of the orphanage at age 8. I truly thought I’d had some revelation in my sleep so I started to Google the agency in the morning…but then I started to remember the rest of the dream. The agency name had the word “jeans” in it, because their big gimmick was that they provided a lifetime of jeans to the child. Then, when the child turned 18, they mailed a scrapbook of pictures and memorabilia they’d been keeping. After further investigation, it was no revelation. Just a dream about a fictitious adoption agency called “Jeans & More (More = Children)” or something. It is kind of a genius (jean-ius…get it?!?!) business idea though. Who doesn’t want a lifetime supply of jeans?

Scams: About 6 months ago, I tried to buy some cookies from our nice neighbor girl. She came to the door, gave me a heart-wrenching speech about the proceeds going to “the cancer people”, and handed me a school fundraiser form. Naturally, I wanted to help her out. By help her out I mean eat cookies. Long story short, she pocketed the cash and never delivered my cookies. She was a sneaky little con artist who scammed the whole neighborhood. Fast forward 6 months later: Taylor and I found some smashed, uncovered cookie bars on the sidewalk on Tuesday. Either they were from a newly repentant con artist, another neighbor, or the Stockyard Stalker*. I choose to believe they were from the scammer. What a nice girl to take my $15 and bring some homemade cookie bars, right? 

*I actually have no idea who these are from or if they were even for us. If you have any information regarding the smooshed treats, either fess up or call Crime Stoppers.

Solo cups: Instead of playing with the cool toys we have for Beckett, he’s been playing with the same red Solo cup for the past few days. It is absolutely mesmerizing. It stays firmly in his grasp as he sleeps because, as we all know, Solo cups are expensive and in short supply as all good baby toys are.

Wreck Part II
Monday night, I had dinner with Lauren and Savannah. Their company is decent at best. 
Just kidding. 
I am in serious love with them both and we laughed a lot. Well, they laughed a lot. They found my diaper bag to be a source of great amusement. They laugh as if they weren’t glad I had my trusty Johnson & Johnson Hand & Face Wipes to clean the honey off our hands from the sopapillas.
Lauren kept asking if our dinner could be on the blog. I informed her that unless she faceplanted into the people and food at the table next to ours, there was no deal.
We finished dinner (and dessert), walked to the parking lot, said our goodbyes…and then watched a car smash into the back of my car. I saw the driver look over her shoulder, possibly put it in drive, and look like she was about to drive off. Even if she wasn’t, I took no chances, especially after the insurance drama with the wreck with the thing last year. I ran in front of her car with my hands up attempting my best “Oh heeeeck no…don’t even think about driving off” face.
Minor bumperal damage.

The girl who hit me was pretty young and really sad when she got out of the car. When I asked if she had insurance she said, “Yea, but I’m from Colorado so I don’t know how that works…” as if I might say, “Oh – out of state? Great news! You’re free to leave! Insurance only covers in-state accidents.” Poor girl.

The whole way home from the restaurant I was wondering how Taylor would react. When I walked in the door, before I could even say a word, he goes, “Uhh…I might have made a mistake while you were gone… I may have dropped the video monitor in the toilet and broke it…” which of course I followed with, “Sweet. Well someone hit my car.”

Calling Progressive was interesting. “How many people were in your vehicle at the time of impact?” “Um…none?” “Are you the driver?” “Well, yes, but at the time I was a walker.”

The monitor started working, the girl’s insurance is already mailing me a check, and Lauren and Savannah are featured on the blog. All is well.

2 Comments

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    Izzy Mason

    The neighborhood scammers strike again. Somehow there’s always at least one per neighborhood. Growing up I feel like it was at least once a year that a guy that seemed in his early 30s would walk up to our house wearing dress pants and and a button down and try to get my family to sign up to get magazines through him to help pay for his upcoming YOUTH GROUP mission trip. Ya gotta give him props for trying though.

    I’m sorry about your car!

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