Knockers, Weiners, and Earwax

I might have mentioned somewhere along the blog that I have had
some strange things happen in my house. Every night when I sit
in the basement watching the big screen TV, I hear walking over
my head in the area of #2 son's bedroom and the boys' bathroom.
Since #1 is downstairs with me, preferring an old couch to his
bunkbeds, I know it is either #2 or my Hillbilly Husband. OR IS
IT? I just assume that, since I hear walking, and they are the only
two people upstairs. When I ask #2 if he got up to pee, or HH
if he went in to check on #2, they both deny it. But they are male.
I figure they might be confused by the question.

Last night, I turned on the basement light, turned off the TV and
stuff, and went upstairs to bed around 11:20 p.m. I looked down,
and that blasted lamp was still on. I forgot to clap it off. As you
know, this is no easy feat for me. When I cough once, it goes off.
But it takes several hand-clappings before it obeys me. I didn't
want to go back down the stairs, because I'm lazy. I leaned over
the stair railing, as #1 does, and clapped. CLAP...CLAP. The
light stayed on. That is not the strange part. Right after I clapped,
I heard KNOCK...KNOCK. It had the exact timing as my claps,
yet it was not an echo. It had a distinctive sound. It came from
#2's room. He had been asleep since 8:30. It was not knocking
on the wall, or on the door. It was KNOCK...KNOCK on his
hollow plastic yellow car bed frame. The hair on my neck stood
up. I thought maybe he rolled over and hit it by coincidence. I took
a deep breath and walked down the short dark hall to his room. I
hit the hall light to illuminate him. He was sound asleep with his arms
under his comforter, hugging his two little bears. EEEEEEEEE!

Then I was afraid to clap again, so I turned on the basement
light, walked down the stairs, went to stand directly by that
confounded lamp, and clapped. It took 4 tries. I never heard
a response, though I cringed each time, listening for it. That
is toooooooo creepy. It has been a while since any odd things
happened, except for the footsteps every night, which I still
prefer to believe are my men upstairs.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

We had hot dogs for school lunch today. Actually, it was chili dogs,
if you wanted chili. This delighted my first hour students. They love
to ask Mr. S what it for lunch on hot dog day, because he says,
"Weiners". This makes them laugh. They are easy to entertain. They
would have been ecstatic if they sat at the teachers' lunch table.
Mr. S announced, "These are giant weiners today."

I fed my third hour students some boogers and earwax. They were
pleased to get this treat: Harry Potter jellybeans that my kids got
for Christmas and wouldn't eat. One of them said the earwax was
his favorite. Vomit, not so much.

Now don't go feeling sorry for my second hour, because every
day they are allowed to choose an item from the snack drawer.
By 'snack drawer', I mean the bottom drawer of the file cabinet,
which I stock with items from home that my kids will no longer
consume. The raisins did not go over very well. They enjoyed
the Save-A-Lot version of Pop Rocks. The cheese crackers
and goldfish were a hit. And the Cheetos that turn your tongue
green. This week they have been raving over the box of
Christmas cookies.

Yeah, I know. I should be careful what I give the students, in case
someone is diabetic, or has a food allergy. It's all fun and games
until somebody gets a honeybun stuck in his throat. But I get a list
of that confidential info at the beginning of the year. Also, the kids
are not shy about telling me such stuff. And remember, I have had
most of these kids since sixth grade, so I am familiar with their
idiosyncracies. The oddest one (allergy, not kid) was the grape
flavoring. I'd never heard of such a thing. But I went along with it.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

My Hillbilly Husband is on another trip for work. Seems like only
two weeks ago he returned from Brazil. Without a wax. So don't
ask. What exotic location was he sent to this week, you ask? OK,
so you didn't, but play along with me, people. Jackson, Mississippi.
Yes, he was supposed to fly. St. Louis, to Texas, to Mississippi.
Geography is not my strong point, but I believe he was going
around his elbow to get to his thumb. Last time I checked the
large map on the wall of my classroom, which cost me $2.00 four
years ago, Texas was not on the way from Missouri to Mississippi.

So HH stated that he would not fly, spending hours waiting for a
connecting flight. He volunteered his own personal vehicle, and to
act as his own chauffeur. Only one other employee went. HH
arrived about 1 hour later, but did not have to worry about the
luggage and the hassle of airports. He will also make money on the
mileage, and the company will save money on the airfare.

That was some boring stuff. It's been a slow Hillbilly Mom day.
I'll try to goad people into being more interesting tomorrow.