Crazy ol' Loon

I've reached that point... the one that my father warned me about... the point where I am dangerously close to BEING HIM. Really, it's almost too funny for words. The past couple of weeks have been more than stressful around here. I decided that instead of being passive, I'd turn into a more aggressive type. In other words, I'm being a McCullough through and through. Read on for a few examples.

1. Have I told you that my students call me Mrs. Mayhem? (A side note from our friends at dictionary.com "The offense of willfully maiming or crippling a person. Infliction of violent injury on a person or thing; wanton destruction: A state of violent disorder or riotous confusion; havoc.") (I have a t-shirt and everything. If I can remember, I'll take a picture of it and post it for you.) You have to say it in a very gruff, wrestler announcer voice ~ that's how they do it. Sometimes I perform on demand for them and strike a pose. It's just a quirky little thing b/t my misfits and me... word has gotten out that I'm a crazy woman who'll pounce unexpectdly on a weakling. The kids are looking at me in a different light... and I kind of like it.

2. I've joined the Dark Side at work... it's a group of teacher's who've been wronged by the same man (see last post, btw... he lied). Tomorrow I'll be wearing black.

3. My neighbor is scary... she has barbed wire tatoos on BOTH arms and isn't a southerner (This is "Barb", not Hezekiah and Jedediah's mom, the rabid possum family). Monday as B, HAH and I were taking our usual evening stroll, two of the four neighbor children were playing in the road as we walked by. One of the girls (who I'd guess to be around 3) picked a flowering weed, took a wiff, looked at me and said, "Aren't the flowers just lovely?" I agreed and asked how she was doing when her older sister said, "Jayden, we aren't supposed to talk to the mean lady." [Enter high pitched sound of shock here!] WHAT??? MEAN LADY, HUH??? As we get up the drive way (and while I'm still recovering from the "mean lady" comment) B asks me if I'd heard what Barb said as we walked by. Um, no her kids just referred to me as Mean Lady, what did she say? Apparently in a booming, sarcastic tone to her mother she said, "Boy I sure wish I'd read the restrictions on this neighborhood before we moved in. Gotta have a 6 foot privacy fence around an above ground pool!" (Did I tell you that I not only have the road named after me, but that I also wrote the restrictions? I'm looking out for my property value and my daughter's life ~ call me a snob if you want to but don't bring in your PWT junk...) The great thing about this is... I don't have to worry about her four children coming over to play! Maybe they'll move soon.

4. When I talked to the CPA woman last week (her name is actually Melba, like the toast, no fitting nick name needed for this story) I was very proud of the fact that I 1. Did not threaten to kill anyone working for the company or close family members. 2. Didn't utter even the first curse word under my breath. I DID contemplate pulling the Expedition sideways in the road to block in all of the subcontractors who were at Barb's house, getting B's 357, pointing it in their general direction and asking them nicely to just finish up the work at my house before heading on home. However, due to the niceness with which I have handled the no-work-on-the-house-conflict my back steps are getting bricked. Now... if only I can figure out a way to get them to pay for HAH's diapers for the next year and a half...

5.I was talking to my co-teacher, mentor, man translator, Kenny last week and commented on the fact that I had made a metamorphosis of sorts lately. He just smiled and agreed with me... and then added, "It's great. This look of death comes on your face and people react. It makes life kind of exciting around here. I like it."

Happy day of darkness from the crazy loon in room 8.