When I started flipping off the porcine survivors and calling them names I learned from Joe Baker, I knew I should stop playing Angry Birds.
I'd resisted the game for a long time. Alison had loaded it on my phone and iPad as soon as she knew I could connect to the silly thing. I rolled my eyes and let her. When she got her own iPad the birds were among her first e-purchase. She rattled on for days about the Mighty Eagle that was going to elevate her Angry Birds experience.
More eye rolling from me. I don't know why I tried it the other day. But I did. My version should be called "Happy Pigs" instead of "Angry Birds". It's soooooo frustrating!!!! The pigs laugh at you when you don't blast them to smithereens. Even if you give them black eyes, they still laugh at you unless you kill them dead.
Aside from my foray into the world of electronic malcontents, we've been settling back into our normal life since our trip. We got lucky and scored a pair of Ogdens last night, with Hannah dropping in first and Alex coming along sweaty from a basketball game.
I've known Hannah since she was in pre-school. She's so close to a grown up now it's almost heart breaking. At dinner there was a tiny moment when she said something or did something that made me think I was seeing a freeze frame flash-forward when she'll be a young woman.
She was talking about a little girl who'd had her first acting experience in Hannah's acting group. The little girl was struck silent when she was called on to perform and Hannah's impression of her was classic. Her blue eyes grew to the size of her dinner plate and you could just see the terror.
It was so hilarious, it made Alison emit more than laughter. And then, of course, she had to share, "I once farted, sneezed and laughed all at the same time."
Hannah's eyes got plate-sized again and she gasped: "I have always been afraid to do that because my Dad said if I did that I would EXPLODE!!!!"
We all dissolved into a giggle fest. When we could talk again we got back on the subject of stage fright, which prompted Alison to try to explain her spider phobia. She claimed she was once trapped in a bathroom and Alex had a spider he was trying to throw on her. I cried foul. That was my story and it involved a snake and my brothers.
"Were there two of him?" I asked her, squinting at her suspiciously. Hannah laughed because she knows my trapped-in-the-bathroom story, too. You could almost see the wheels turning in Ali's head as she tried to put out the fire on her pants.
Alex came in right about then, saving Alison from having to explain herself. The three of them entertained themselves until bedtime and then chased each other around this morning until Karin came to take them to church. I haven't seen them since.
They apparently came home while I was at the gym but Jeff was in the shower and didn't hear them come in. Ali and Alex decided to be spies and try to sneak in and out without alerting him. She did leave him a note to tell him she was at Alex's doing homework.
While she will depart from the literal truth for dramatic effect, she's a pretty good kid. Her grandfather sent her a Valentine with a $10 bill in it. She caught it as it fluttered out and said, "I know just where Mr. Hamilton is going."
I thought she had a iTunes gift card or candy in mind. Jeff was certain she was thinking of her portion of the iPad she still owes him.
"I'm going to give this to Hoops for Hearts," she said. It's an annual drive at school for heart research. In years past, she's jumped rope for hearts. Fifth graders get to shoot hoops. I'm sure she'll be hitting up some of you for donations, but she's seeding it with her first valentine of the year. How great is that?! Sure she might tell a whopper here and again, but she's got a good heart.
Later today, she will make cookies for her valentines at school. Her decorating expertise has been called to service by her friend Madison, who wants her to also help decorate cupcakes for the other 5th grade class. They're trying to turn it into an overnight, but I have no official confirmation of it.
Should it occur, it will be fortuitous for the mister and me. We'll celebrate 14 years of wedded bliss on Tuesday. OK, maybe every second of those years hasn't been exactly blissful. But we haven't killed each other, so that's something. I'm still hoping he'll keep me.
But let's not get mushy.
I have pigs to kill.