Oh. Em. Gee. @ the MALL!!

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Before jumping into this riveting story, I'd like to apologize to all two of my fans for my lack of blogging lately.  What with all the cooking, cleaning, dog walking and raising of America's future I've been doing (i.e. Little Gumshoe), I haven't had time to entertain my sisters (my two fans).

Here's the story of how running an errand turned into my immediate need to take a bleach bath and begin raising my son in a bubble for the rest of his life:

As we enter 4th quarter, Gumshoe begins his undercover shifts at the mall.  I know...it's a really glamorous gig, but somebody has to do it.  Think Paul Blart, but in plain clothes and without the Segway.  Anywho, these shifts typically run late and in order to get more family face time, I decided to purchase Little Gumshoe's Halloween costume at the mall.  Run an errand, visit Gumshoe...it's a win win.  Now, I haven't spent much time at the mall since I was a teenager and when I go these days, I stay in the Nordstrom's vicinity.  Turns out that's the best idea!

First stop:  J.C. Penney.  I noticed Carter's costumes there a while back and figured we'd take a look.  Upon inspection, the costumes were cute and reasonably priced.  I mean, LG won't remember and he goes to bed at 7 anyway, so I don't want to spend a lot of money on something he will cry about the second we put him in it.  There was a cute dinosaur costume but before we pulled the trigger on it, I wanted to check out Halloween Express, or what I will now refer to as the 7th level of hell.  What a creepy store with creepy employees.  You know, the kind of people that absolutely LIVE for October 31st.  The ones that do the part-time gigs at the haunted houses and well, Halloween Express.  I think they call them Warlocks?  Conjurors?  Sorcerers?   World of War craft fanatics?  Dorks?   Anyway, about 2 seconds after stepping into the store, we wanted to RUN back to the cuddly dinosaur costume.  After searching the store for the baby section and being visually accosted by the dirty nurse and skanky she-cop costumes, we came across a lovable baby devil costume.  Or how about the ever-popular baby zombie?  Or my personal favorite...the creepy baby with the toy knife in his hand.  Umm, no!  There was, however, a T-Rex costume and a cute monster costume that would suffice.  Unfortunately, they were $50 each.  Really, 7th level of hell?  Your costumes are packaged in what amounts to a trash bag with a plastic hook.  No!  We'll take the cuddly dino for $20, please.

On our way back to the dino costume, I thought it would be nice to stop and get some pretzel bites.  You see, I'm on a health kick.  And by health kick I mean that I eat M&Ms for breakfast and don't do any exercise.  I'll get back into my routine, but first...pretzel bites.  I approach the 17 yr. old kid behind the counter at the Auntie Annie's kiosk and request my regular pretzel bites with cheese sauce and a Diet Coke.

17 yr. old:     The regular bites?

Me:               Yes, please.

17 yr. old:      Umm...ok (said rather pensively)

He grabs a diet coke for me and checks on the status of my pretzels

17 yr old to co-worker:         Umm...this lady wants pretzel bites, but we don't have any

Co-worker:    It'll be a little while.  See if she wants a regular pretzel

17 yr. old:       Do  you want a regular pretzel instead?

Me:                Isn't the regular pretzel $2 less than the pretzel bites?

17 yr. old:       Umm, yeah.

Me:                So I'd be paying $2 more for something I could get for less while still not getting what I want?

17 yr. old:       Umm, yeah, I guess.

Me:                No.  No that doesn't sound like a good idea to me.  Actually, that sounds like a terrible idea.

17 yr. old:      Do you still want your diet coke?

Me:               Well, yes.  (Gumshoe is currently sipping on said diet coke while entertaining LG)

17 yr. old:      Proceeds to pour me a new diet coke

Me:                You already got me one

17 yr. old:      Well, do you want to pay for both?

Me:               No!  No!  Why would I want to pay for both?  That's another terrible idea!  I'll pay for one.  The one I asked for. 

17 yr. old:     Umm...ok.  That will be $1.65.

Gumshoe and I walked away in a stupor.  Are kids really that dumb these days?  The transcript didn't do the exchange justice.  Re-read it with lots more "umms" and awkward pauses and imagine a really blank look on the teenager's face.  It made me want to immediately enroll LG into the nearest Toastmasters club.  I don't care if he can't form a sentence yet.

I had my diet coke fix, but was still in need of my pretzel bites.  Fortunately, Gumshoe knows his way around a mall, so we took the quickest route to the next pretzel shop.  On our way, we passed by another annoying kiosk.  Have you seen the one with the guy in front smoking the fake cigarette?  It really catches you off guard at first.  I mean, it must be fake but your first thought is to tackle him to the ground for being so ignorant by smoking inside.  Even when you realize it's fake, you're still mad at him for making you mad in the first place.  As I approach the kiosk, 11 month old in my arms, the dude offers me a fake cigarette.  NO!  No, I don't want a fake cigarette that blows fake smoke.  Do I look like I want a fake cigarette?  As I politely say "no", he responds "keep it real".  What?  What does that even mean?  Keep it real?  You're selling a fake cigarette!

Finally!  We enter the promised land.  The land of Panda Express and Sbarro.  The land of my pretzel bites.  I place my order for a cup of sodium-laden-half-baked-grease-dough...I mean pretzel bites (with nacho cheese)...and relax with my Big Gumshoe and my Little Gumshoe in the Food Court.  As I mow through my pretzel bites, I reflect on why I feel so disgusted.  Oh!  Now I remember...

No...I don't want you to stare at me creepily while I peruse your Halloween costumes

No...I don't want to dress my baby like a mini devil or serial killer

No...I don't want to be stuck walking behind a 14 year old girl whose shorts are so short I feel like I need to cover LG's eyes

No...I don't want to get 1 pretzel for the price of 5 pretzels.  That is not a good deal.

No...I don't want a fake cigarette and neither does my 11 month old

No...I don't want to "keep it real" and if you ask me again, I will have Gumshoe keep it real by punching you

No...I don't want to save 15% by signing up for a J.C. Penney credit card

I said no...I don't want to save 15% by signing up for a J.C. Penney credit card

The answer is still no...I don't want to save 15% by signing up for a J.C. Penney credit card

Oh the good old days...when our mall consisted of the A&W Hot Dog Stand, United Colors of Benetton, Camelot Music and Mr. Bulky's Candy Shop.  We finally made it back to the cuddly dinosaur costume and I skedaddled out of the mall rather quickly.  Little Gumshoe and I both had our bleach baths and feel much better.  On a positive note...I was able to pick up some literature from a few of the kiosks and now have everyone's Christmas gifts sorted out.  Let's see...there's the hair extensions for Nana, the pillow pets for the kids, the face bedazzling for Gumshoe, the giftcard to Auntie Annie's pretzels where you can buy 1 for the price of 5 for PopPop (he loves a good deal), the pack of fake cigarettes for my sisters, the manicure in a jar for my girlfriends and the ripoff 9.99 oil change programs for the guys.  Merry Christmas!

Ummm...I'm a Vampire

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As you can probably imagine...Gumshoe encounters many situations that run the gambit on the crazy spectrum.  Some are gross-crazy.  Some are scary-crazy.  Some are depressing-crazy.  Some are even second-guess-your-faith-in-the-human-race-crazy.  (Gumshoe doesn't share those with me).  But some...some are super-funny-crazy!  Those are great to hear about and sometimes they come with a perk...sometimes they end in one of Gumshoe's favorite places in our city: the cookie room at one of the hospitals.

"They've got the best cookies in the world, and they've even got miniature sodas to drink.  I had 4 cookies and 3 sodas."

That particular quote came from Gumshoe's very first trip to the cookie room a few years back while working a graveyard shift on patrol.  Gumshoe had been wrestling with a very non-compliant citizen who was having a problem with his level of customer service from the police department.  Unfortunately, he wasn't very happy with his life either and had cut himself a few times.  He was bleeding from his arm profusely and in the process of wrestling with Gumshoe had earned the name "pumper".   Long and gross story short, Gumshoe needed to go to the ER alongside Mr. Pumper and have a few tests run to make sure he didn't contract anything since the blood got into HIS MOUTH!  GROSS!!  Needless to say, Gumshoe did not get a kiss "hello" when he got home from work that morning.

Lucky for Gumshoe, he was perfectly healthy and to make a perfect night even more magical...he found the cookie room!  An amazing room set aside specifically for emergency responders complete with soft-baked M&M cookies and tiny cans of soda.  In retrospect, I think he would have endured the same experience if it meant he could stay just a few more minutes in the cookie room.

But I digress...

Upon serving a search warrant on a wonderful group of tweakers the other day, Gumshoe got the pleasure of interrogating some of the city's finest.  Just to be clear, all 3 of these successful contributors to society receive our tax dollars in the form of disability which they use not only to support their habit, but to grow their business of meth-cooking.  Don't you just love their entrepreneurial spirit?

After interviewing the gentlemen, Gumshoe moved on to the brains of the business...the girlfriend.  Now, girlfriend was slow to talk and didn't make much sense.  I'm sure that Gumshoe just assumed she was high, but what really helped to clear up the confusion was when she explained the reason for her slow-talk.

girlfriend: "I have a brain injury"

Gumshoe: "You have a brain injury?"

girlfriend: "That's right.  And I'm a vampire"

Gumshoe: "You're a vampire?"

girlfriend: "Umm. Yes.  I'm a vampire."

Gumshoe: "Why do you think you're a vampire?"

girlfriend: "My boyfriend told me that I am"

Gumshoe: "Why are you running around with this guy if he makes you think that you're a vampire?"

girlfriend: "Because I have a brain injury."

Well...that certainly explains things.  We've come full circle, now!

The Big 3-0!

Happy 30th Birthday, Mr. Gumshoe!  We love you and here are 30 fun reasons why...(Little Gumshoe and I collaborated)

1) You love your Detroit Tigers hat...not because you love the Detroit Tigers, but because you love Magnum P.I.
2) You have great dimples
3) You make the best jumbalaya ever
4) You are "rain-man" when it comes to the engine thrust of any aircraft ever created and any bullet casing ever found at the scene of a crime
5) You use your super-power detective skills on me all the time and I know that Little Gumshoe will never be able to get away with anything!
6) You are great at changing diapers
7) You are a much better bath-giver than mommy is
8) You always wear a shiny badge that mesmerizes Little Gumshoe when he is cranky
9) You drive a big black pick-up truck that I'm sure the neighbors love to hear when you leave early for work
10) You look great in a uniform
11) You are the hardest working man we know
12) You are the worst whistler in the world.  It's really funny to listen to
13) You prefer to cut your own hair and have offered to cut mine.  No thanks!
14) You never miss a night praying with Little Gumshoe
15) You know your way around power tools and can fix anything (except our air conditioner and it's 110 degrees out)
16) We always make up our own "operas" and sing them in the car.  They're really funny and you're a great tenor
17) Whenever I'm about to say a joke, you say it first b/c we're thinking the same thing...and then you make fun of me b/c I can never get my thoughts out fast enough
18) Our second date was an outing to the shooting range.  That's what I love about you
19) You are a very manly man
20) You like to hunt
21) You love the mountains, but you love Kansas more
22) You have the patience of Job...at least with LG and me
23) You never back down from a challenge
24) You write letters to your representatives.  It's admirable, really
25) The guy down the street i.d.'d you as a 40 year old male.  What I'm trying to say is that you look very mature for your age
26) You like to position your goose decoys in the garage in such a way that they are staring at me when I pull my vehicle in.  It's a little creepy
27) You tear up sometimes when you think about Little Gumshoe
28) Your invention that you swear is going to make us millions is the Hamdog.  A hamburger in the shape of a hotdog.  I'm pretty sure it's been done already...and it's not that great
29) You blocked VH1, MTV and E! channels from our TV b/c you insisted that they are corrupting the nation.  Thank you for doing your part...now what's the password?
30) And of course...you are the most amazing daddy and husband!  Here's to 70 more birthdays together.  And the fruition of the hamdog dream!

Safety First

We wanted to teach Little Gumshoe responsibility at an early age, so we decided to buy him a pet boa constrictor.

Just kidding.

Ironically though, he's tangled up in the recently purchased baby-proofing materials. If you see new warning labels on the Prince Lionheart Edge Guards informing you not to allow your child to wrap the roll of foam around his neck and you think to yourself "what idiot parent would let their kid do that"...now you know!

Baby proofing is hard work! Especially when you have all the red flags of a not-safe-for-baby home:

Split level home with LOTS of steps...CHECK!

Large flat screen TV placed precariously on top of TV stand with no wall mount...CHECK!

Ladder shelves leaning against the wall that are perfect for climbing...CHECK!

Stone fireplace with lots of jagged edges...CHECK!

And in all of my baby-proofing hysteria, I forgot to put away the kitchen shears I used to cut the edge guards. I did, however, secure my lead spot for the Mother of the Year award when I left the shears on the living room floor only to notice the next morning as my son rolled over them to get to a toy. Thankfully, no injuries were involved but oh, the irony!

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Our next house will be a ranch-style hobbit house. No stairs and no straight edges.

So Romantic...

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Isn't it so romantic when the man you love gently throws rocks at your window in the middle of the night to catch your attention? Probably so he can serenade you with a gushy love song or proclaim his affection for you for all the world to hear.

Or maybe it's because he's just returned home from working in the summer heat in a suit all day (see previous post) and he can't seem to get into the front door and you can't hear any of his phone calls b/c you decided to wear earplugs in an effort to sleep like a log. Yes, I sometimes wear earplugs in case my son decides to make noise and interrupt my beauty rest. Don't judge. I figure if he REALLY needs me, he'll just climb out of the crib and come and get me. He is 8 months old after all.

Anyway, when Gumshoe comes home late, we try not to open the garage door as it is located directly under LG's crib (very smart planning of the baby room-I know), and apparently Gumshoe does not own a key to the front glass door which was, unfortunately, locked.

Thus, gravel thrown at my window.

Surprisingly, I did not receive a serenade OR a declaration of love. Instead, I received a death glare...but I forgive you, Gumshoe. And you can serenade me tonight at dinner.

Oh...and no picture with the Sheriff.  Too busy dealing with a hoax bomb at the event...it was a cluster. Good thing I got that life-sized poster for Gumshoe!

Sheriff Joe

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Joe Arpaio...Sheriff of Maricopa County, AZ. Ever heard of him? No? Tent Cities, inmates in pink boxers, toughest sheriff around, sour-puss expression? Still not ringing any bells?

Well, if you happen to watch a lot of Fox News then these items make perfect sense.

And if you're anything like Gumshoe, then it's your sole purpose to get a picture with the good Sheriff. What? No, I'm not joking.

You see, he's in town and Gumshoe was pulled to do some Secret-Service-Undercover-Special-Agent-in-Charge-Protection (I'm exaggerating) for the sheriff while he's speaking at an immigration rally. Hard to believe, but the sheriff has a few people upset with him and they're expecting quite a few protesters at the event. Enter Mr. Gumshoe!

Anyway...After double checking to make sure his side-arm holster wasn't noticeable under his suit coat (totally normal, I know) Gumshoe left this morning for his 14 hour day with a hardcore conservative twinkle in his eye. That's my boy! I have yet to hear from him, but I hope he got his photo op. If not, I made the above picture into a life-size poster as a consolation prize. Oh, and I sent in my NRA renewal form. That should make him super duper happy. Nothing quite like a NRA card carrying wifey. It's the little things folks!