A Tale of Mittens, a Hat, a Scarf and BIG Trouble.

Do I have a tale to tell you! And let me tell you right now…it’s a doozy.

See this sweet, innocent, beautiful girl…also known as my daughter Weslea? She may look sweet and innocent, but she almost got me into big trouble on Sunday. And when I say big trouble…I mean super-huge, massively horrible B I G trouble.

1

For this tale, I need to start back about a year ago when I just happened to look out my front window and saw two police cars go flying past my house, swerve into my neighbor’s driveway and come to a screeching halt by their front door.

Now remember…I live in Amish Country. The most excitement we have ever seen around here was a pack of about 30 Amish boys taking a Sunday stroll together down our road one day. Have you ever seen a gang of Amish boys? Well, that’s our big excitement around here because nothing, and I mean nothing, exciting ever happens around here. Ever!

My brain is racing at that point. Holy cow! What’s going on over there? Is my neighbor friend hurt or one of her kids hurt? I didn’t even think they were home right then, but our homes are so spread apart that you can easily miss seeing each other come and go.

I grabbed my cell phone and called her cell phone feeling extremely relieved when she answered. “Umm…are you at home?” I asked her.

Neighbor: No. I’m at the school right now. Why?

Me (creeping slowly out my side door and into my garage so I can peek through the garage window to see what’s going on): Did you know that there are two police cars at your house right now?



Neighbor (after a loooooong pause): What?



Me: I am not even kidding! There are two police cars at your house right now. And holy crap!! They have their guns drawn and they are sneaking around the side of your house real slow.



Neighbor: Whaaaaaaattttt????



Me: Oh my word, it looks like they are going in the door at the back of your house!

And our conversation pretty much continued like that with me giving the play-by-play action of what I could see going on and my neighbor saying “Whaaaaaaaaaaaatttt??” over and over.


I mean this was beyond major excitement for us Amish Country folk. We are spastic with excitement by now.

It ended up that most probably my neighbor’s house had been broken into while I was sitting idly in my house that day. When their alarm system went off, the burglars must have gotten scared and took off so quickly that they didn’t even get a chance to steal anything.

5

Now…let’s fast forward to this past Sunday when I had just returned home from visiting with my family and the foreign exchange students who were staying at my parent’s home for the weekend. I had to get home because our church was having their big Christmas Program that night and I knew I still had a lot to get done before I could leave.

I’m walking quickly toward the house (because I’m late) and Sweatiepy and the three older kids pass me on their way out of the house. “Why are you leaving for church already?” I gasped. “We still have a half hour before we have to be there!” Uh no…ends up that hubby had to be there even earlier than the kids did (because he was singing in the adult choir) and they needed to leave now. I quickly notice that my daughter is practically in tears and that she has a nasty looking headband/ear warmer thing on over her pretty hair.

“Why is she wearing that ugly thing? She needs to have her winter hat on!” I said. (The kids had to be dressed up like carolers for the program with their cutest hat, scarf and mittens on.) “Because we can’t find her hat!” Sweatiepy snarled back at me.

I quickly promised Weslea that I would find her hat for her and off they went.

I searched the whole stinkin’ house for her stupid hat. I mean it! I searched every room, every nook and cranny, every possible and impossible place where her hat could be. It is nowhere to be found. I suddenly had a brainstorm and out of desperation, I called my neighbor and asked if she had a hat/scarf/mittens that I could borrow for Weslea just for that night.

3

It ended up that her daughter had the perfect set of winter items that we could use for the program…but, no one was at home and they weren’t going to be back home for awhile. My neighbor kindly offered to give me their security code so that I could get into their home even though they weren’t there.

Awesome…the kind neighbors have saved the day for me!

I got my things packed up, got Weston ready to go, drove to the neighbor’s house, forced our way through the frigid wind to our neighbor’s back door where I struggled to get the key box open and into their garage. We finally get into the garage and by this time, Weston is mad. I’m getting to hear a litany of “I’m cold…this is scary…this isn’t our house….it’s dark in here…I want to leave…this is sooooo SCARY!” all the while I’m trying to figure out where the alarm system is so we can get into the house from the inside of the garage.

It is nowhere to be seen in the garage so I finally decided that I was going to need to open the door that goes into their house because it most probably is located right inside their door.

I took a deep breath, opened the door and immediately heard the alarm system start to quietly beep.

I grabbed my paper with my notes on it and quickly entered the code, all the while gingerly waiting to see if an alarm was going sound.

Whew! No alarm. “Let’s go find the stuff we need,” I said to Weston and we both took off across their house to get into their daughter’s closet where I had been instructed that I would easily find everything I needed.

Right at the exact second I opened her closet door…that exact second…extremely loud alarms started going off all over their house. Imagine fire station alarms and you might be close to how loud these alarms sounded to me.

Woo-woo-woo-woo-WOO-WOO-WOO-WOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

I. Completely. Panic.

Absolute, sheer panic runs through my body from head to toes. I take off running in my high-heeled boots across their hardwood floors as fast as my short, stubby legs would take me yelling “Ohmigod…ohmigod….ohmigod…ohmigod….” all the way back through their enormously huge home. And I can honestly say that I. Was. Flying. These legs have never run that fast before and I can guarantee they will never run that fast again. My already-nervous Weston is balling his eyes out by this time, racing along beside me screaming “We’re going to get in trouble mommy! We’re going to get in TROUBLE!”

I quickly began entering the code into the alarm system again and thankfully everything went silent.

2

What to do? What to do? I’m having flashbacks of police cars racing up to their house and police men drawing their guns while they creep around the side of the house just to burst into the home to find me curled up in the corner sucking my thumb while my 4-year-old baby is yelling at me for scaring him.

But I have to get those darn mittens and hat and scarf! the other half of my brain is thinking. I promised Weslea I would find her a better hat to wear for the program!

So I took off running back across the house….with Weston still freaking out along beside me…go tearing through the daughter’s closet to find the items I needed….run back across their now freakishly huge home…burst through the door…back out through the garage….fly around their entire house…throw Weston into the van…and take off down their driveway like a wild woman.

By the time I finally realized that there weren’t any cops following me and my heart had stopped racing a bit, I made the fun phone call to my neighbor to let her know that I had made her alarm system go off. She laughed at me (deservedly so) and told me that it was probably okay because the phone hadn’t rang from her security company to ask her if there was a problem at the house.

4

Well, everything was okay until Monday afternoon when I called her to ask if they were home so that we could return their winter items back to them. We talked for a bit and then she said…”Oh! Did I ever tell you that we had some visitors after you left the other day?”

Me: Whaaaaaaaaaaaattttt??

Neighbor: Yep…we had some police visit the other day after you left our house.

And this time, our conversation pretty much continued with my neighbor giving me the play-by-play details while I repeated the word “Whaaaaaaaaaaaaattttt??” over and over again.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why you should never, ever promise to find your daughter’s hat for her. It can only lead to B I G trouble.

Next time she can just go borrow the stinkin’ hat all by herself.

I’ll even bail her out when she makes her free phone call. I’m a nice mom that way.