Skip to main content

A Windy Night

Previously published June 8, 2008.

It was 9:00 in the evening and I had just put the boys to bed. I went to look into Bashful's room and sighed forlornly as I looked at his empty bed. He had gone for an overnight stay with his dad up in the mountains and I was lonely for him. Wryly, I wondered what kind of mournful mom I am going to turn out to be when the kid leaves for college someday.

The wind had picked up considerably in the last few minutes and was howling like a banshee. There isn't a lot of precipitation where we live. When we actually get a thunderstorm, we prop our chins in our hands and stare out the window in awe. When we get a snowstorm, we immediately bundle into our winter paraphernalia and go romping in the snow. We take what we can get when it actually happens.

One thing we do get a lot of is the wind. The wind can get to a person sometimes. Drives me batty with the way it howls right along with the coyotes. When I leave the windows in the bedrooms open, the wind is so strong the doors slam shut and give me a fright enough to make my heart slam in my chest.

This particular night, I looked out the front window to see my boys' shoes on the front step. I decided to bring them in before they were blown away. I struggled to open the front door. The wind just wanted to slam it shut again, but I was determined. I squeezed myself through the opening and thought if I used my ample hind-end to prop it open, I would be able to reach down for the shoes and make it back into the house just fine.

My butt was no match for the wind.

As I bent down to pick up the shoes, the door slammed shut. Even as I turned to try the doorknob, I knew it was locked. Knowing Grumpy had just gone to bed and hoping that he didn't fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, I pounded on the door calling Grumpy's name.

No one came.

I debated with myself. Sneezy had just fallen asleep five minutes ago after a horrendous time of getting him to sleep. I also realized that I couldn't stand outside forever, so I rang the doorbell.

Pandemonium within. The dog started barking her head off and the baby was immediately and rudely awakened. I could hear him protesting this offense vehemently through the door.

Still no one came.

Pounding on the door, yelling Grumpy's name, and ringing the doorbell two more times finally brought my knight in shining armor to the rescue.

I'm thinking maybe I won't disassemble the doorbell after all.

Comments

Unknown said…
Laugh my butt off!!! I'm laughing hysterically visualizing you pounding on your own door! Hahahahahaha. (Can't stop laughing!) Maybe you should do one of those "hide-a-key" thingys & put on your back porch or bury in the dirt! lol

Popular posts from this blog

The Top 20 Clean Romance Movies Of All Time

I'm really picky when it comes to romantic movies. I prefer them clean and it's really hard to find those kind of romance movies these days. Nowadays, romantic movies are chock full of butts, boobs, and beds. Just sayin'. I was bored one day and decided to google the top romance movies of all time. You have got to be kidding me. One list had Brokeback Mountain on it. Pulease. I was, in fact, so disgusted by all of the lists that I came across that I decided to make my own. I decided to call it The Top 16 Clean Romance Movies of All Time, well, because I couldn't think of anymore to make it an even top 20. Now, my list might be different from most people. I said I was picky. First, I don't like b***** women. That scratches out a whole pile of popular movies. One of them being Gone With The Wind. Does anyone besides me want to smack that woman? Second, I don't like it when the couple end up in bed together. Uh, I don't really need to know, thankyouverymuch. Th...

Grooming Gargoyles

Some say boys are much easier to raise.  I can see that.  Girls have that PMS thing going on once a month and who wants to deal with that?  Not me.  It's bad enough I have to deal with myself.  Plus, girls can be overly dramatic and cry a lot....wait.  Maybe they aren't too different from boys.  However, there is one thing that I probably wouldn't have to deal with if I had girls instead of boys. That would be hygiene. Being a girl myself, I know that girls like smelling nice.  We love to take baths and soak in sweet smelling bubbles and make our skin feel smooth.  No way are we going without brushing our teeth just in case our honey wants to steal a kiss.  Hair, makeup, deoderant...let's face it.  We are not going to face the day without looking good. My boys are different. They would wallow in their own filth and revel in it.  Big Mac Attack has finally gotten to the point where HH and I don't have to nag him to take ...

Surprise, Surprise

Our cute, little booger is being potty-trained now. Oh, joy. I hate potty-training. To me, there's nothing cute about it. It's a nasty, disgusting business and I'd rather it pass by without me having to do with it. The nasty, disgusting part is really not the part that I hate the most. It's the fact that I have to get off my patoosky every stinking hour to place the cute, little patoosky on the potty chair. Let's face it, I'd rather be doing something else. He is the last one, though, so I will prevail in this. I must or the child will be using my floor for a potty chair for years to come. Case in point. Sneezy came to me with a soiled diaper telling me that he "poot". I don't know why I didn't believe him. Maybe because I didn't smell it, but I took his diaper off thinking there were no surprises. Well, that surprise plopped out onto my carpet and I gasped in shock with my jaw to the floor. Since Sneezy was standing in close proximity...