Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Life: Stranger than Fiction

      You know that saying, "Truth is stranger than fiction."?  I have come to believe that is really true.  The stuff that happens in every day life is, in fact, better than stories that you read about.  This weekend there were several examples that stood out to me.  For some reason, both John and I had nightmares that actually woke us up.
      Here's John's:  He is at a CFA that is his (but not the one that we actually own), and it is grand opening.  There is a trainer there who is being really mean to our team members.  John approaches her about this, and she chews him out.  He challenges her to quiz him on CFA knowledge to prove that he is in charge (a really awesome comeback).  She asks him, "Which part of the chicken leg do we use in our 8 and 12 count nuggets?"  Dream John is momentarily stumped.  Then it dawns on Dream John - all of our chicken is boneless breast meat!  It is a trick question!
      Here's mine:  I dream we are at Disney World again, this time with friends and our kids.  For some reason, we decide that the girls can go into the park by themselves while we go to the pool.  But, the whole time we are at the pool, all I can do is imagine Lily and Bella running amuck in the Haunted Mansion and being really confused.  I decide we should probably go and get them, and we find them in line for the Haunted Mansion, which has been deserted.  Bella is laying down to take a nap, and Lily is saying, "I want my mommy."  Obviously, the nightmare did not end badly, but I think I was really concerned during the whole dream that I was actually a really terrible parent (which I would be, if I let my 3 year old and 17 month old head off to a Disney Park alone) and someone else should be in charge of my kids.
      On Saturday, while waiting to exchange something at the mall, I observe this conversation.
Woman making a purchase in front of me:  "This outfit is for my daughter's birthday party today."
Employee who is wearing a shirt that says, "Bacon Strips and Bacon Strips and Bacon Strips and Bacon Strips":  "Is it a Princess party?"
Woman:  "We don't do princesses.  We do Divas.  It's at Chuck-E-Cheese."
Bacon Strips:  "Ooohh.  That sounds so good.  Will you bring me the leftover pizza?"  At this point, I assume that they must have some kind of relationship.
Woman:  "Chuck-E-Cheese pizza is really gross.  You don't want that stuff."
Bacon Strips:  "I like anything covered in cheese.  Please, bring me any leftovers."
      Finally, she was done with her purchase, and it was my turn.  And, I was left to conclude that I should never trust the food preferences of someone who wears a shirt all about bacon.  Strange interaction to overhear.
      And then, there is the strangeness that is in our own children.  This sweet girl - (who thought those boots were made for crying)


can get really, really angry.  When she does, she drops down onto the floor and starts banging her forehead on the ground.  She usually stops after about two bangs on the hardwoods, but when she is over carpet, she just keeps hitting her head on the ground.  Since it hasn't been bruising, I haven't been stopping her.  John and I decided that banging your head on the ground comes with its own natural consequence of hurting your head, which should help her change that behavior soon enough.  However, I don't know when soon enough will be.
      You really can't make this stuff up.  I am so glad to live in a world where there are so many things to laugh about.  I am also so glad to live in a world with flowering trees like this.



There is a road that I travel nearly everyday that is lined with these trees, and driving it in the last few weeks has been flowery bliss.


Linds said...

oh my gosh. I am dying. you guys are hilarious.

And those flowering trees are bradford pear trees. They are beautiful, but don't get too close. the flowering stuff? It stinks. badly. I'm not kidding.

Kristin Murdock said...

Oh my goodness those dreams! Dreams really do say a lot about how we are feeling in the moment, don't they?