The Day We Adpoted Silas

On November first, Ethan and I met our dog. He was brought to us by his foster mom, a wonderful lady who obviously loves Silas very much, but her and her husband weren't ready to take on a third dog.

But let me back up and explain how we found my little guy.

Ethan and I knew we wanted a dog. We had talked about it a few months after we had started dating, where is started with little comments like, "I miss having a dog around," and "When Ambria and I move somewhere we can get a dog... mark my words," (this one was usually followed with a hearty fist shaking at the roof of the apartment where dogs were not allowed).

And then one day it was something more like, "When we get a dog..." in reference to Ethan and I co-parenting a little fur ball. And I knew he was committed. At this point in time we still had exchanged the "I love yous" but we were well on our way. Because even when we weren't saying it, it was the little things that said it for us.

So we planned this move to the house my mom and Adam rent, and I knew that not only was our desire for a dog something that we wanted, but we were in a neighborhood where if your neighbors know you have a dog, that's pretty much a good thing. (It's not a bad neighborhood by any means, it is just good when you live in the city to be like, HEY, DON'T BREAK IN HERE: BIG DOG.)

Naturally, I had already sort of looked on the internet at the Petsmart Charities link where you can look for adoptable pets in your area. I had a few criteria, of course. We had both discussed wanting a big dog, under a year old, and a mild temperament. (This last stipulation was my own. Ethan is a wonderful everything, but if he was a wolf in a wolf pack, he would be one of the submissive ones that helps all the other wolves not act like totally crazy psycho alpha males. I have seen first hand his asshole of a dog, who is a very sweet but domineering Labrador totally push his entire family around because he is so dominate.)

Lo and behold, I had found a few candidates. I had to scrub a few off my list. One was an adorable little black and white puppy that was a mastiff mix named Kong that I knew would be too big for Ambria to handle if she was by herself. Another was a sweet looking little blue dog, and that was because Ethan wanted a boy dog. I found a ten week old Newfoundland mix that I was a little crazy for, (Newfies are are dog I would just love to have) but I am not totally sure what all Ambria is allergic to, so I nixed him too.

Finally, I found Silas and Pita. Two brothers that were rescued from the basement of a drug dealers home, apparently forgotten long enough for them to be starved down to just bones.

Silas, when he was found was barely twenty pounds, and that was because he was just a big sized dog, not because he had ever eaten much of anything. He had a scar on his head and flank, and all over his legs. This leg Animal Control and the adoption agency that eventually procured him to believe that he had been a bait dog for dog fights.

Pita was his brother, and I can only assume that he was in a similar condition.

So I had found these two little brother with these sweet, soft faces, and I knew in my heart I wanted Silas, but I took pictures of both boys and sent them to Ethan. I was going to let him have the final decision because we are a team.

He texted me back saying that while Pita was obviously cute, he felt more kinship with little Silas. So I filed an application form and waited what seemed like forever to see if they would pick us to go through the adoption process for Silas.

Eventually I got a call from his foster mom and we talked for a good forty-five minutes. She thought we were a really good match for Silas, and we set up a week-long trial where we would take care of Silas, see how he fit in our family, and then give a final decision.

This is our first day. He is literally now like a third bigger. It is amazing how much he has grown.

Of course, I texted his foster mom back like two days later and told her she could put the paperwork through whenever. We loved this little guy. He was sweet, happy, and afraid of stairs.

He very solidly came into our family and our hearts like a little furry cannon ball.

 

This was the night we got him when we were teaching him to sit on command. He is just so handsome.

 This the first few days of having him. Ethan was tired from doing something, but Silas was still bright-eyed and bushy tailed.

 A few hours later though, he was asleep. This is his normal sleeping position.

 

This is basically four days after getting him, when he was like, "Sleeping on the couch is ah-maze-in'."

 We took him on his first hike before it was too cold, (and before the broken leg.).

 He was really hard to photograph on this bench. Whenever the camera wasn't on him he was wagging his tail. But every picture pretty much looks like he is trying to escape.

 Like this one, where his is actually really happy to be sitting with his papa, but looks terrified. They are still cute though.

It's Silly to Have Called My Absence a Hiatus

I haven't been on a hiatus. And I mean that in the sense that I didn't say to myself, "Gosh, I really have nothing to blog about, lets keep the readers waiting! Something grand should be happening soon!"

In actuality, I have been doing exactly what my blog was initially about: moving. I moved from the apartment Ambria and I shared and into a house with her and my boyfriend. If that isn't moving up, I don't know what is! But along with the move, I guess I have been ridiculously stressed out. And I guess that comes with the territory of moving in with someone knew, and everyone sort of relearning schedules and working around each other and also with each other.

I have also been having a crazy work schedule which really doesn't help establish good patterns for making a Home Life work. It's been an adjustment, especially when figuring out things like bills, and adjusting what should and should not be my income I use for silly things, like bras or video games.

And honestly I think with the extra hiccups along the way, (there are so many more fucking dishes...) its hard to establish what I wanted from mine and Ethan's relationship, along with reestablishing that my relationship with Ambria is incredibly important to me. And then also setting up the line of communication between all the sets of parents, (mine, Ethan's and Ambria's). I feel like relationships, and maintaining them as strongly as they were before moving out, or moving away, or just changing location is really hard. You have to put in constant effort to make sure that everyone knows they are loved and cared for.

And then there is the balancing act of saying to your partner, "Hey! I need more from you!"

Something that was really stressing me out, and what was making me crazy angry without me even realizing, was that Ethan wasn't doing what I had expected from him. During the weekdays we only have a small window of time where we got to see each other. I would basically be walking out the door when he was coming home from work. And what I expected from him is to come over and sit with me, tell me about his day, give me a hug and a kiss.

Instead he was running upstairs to get his computer going so he could play some variety of online game, (World of Warcraft or Counterstrike or Dark Souls II). And don't read to far into this; I don't mind that he is a gamer. I game too!

It just got to the point where I was really frustrated that he wasn't meeting my need for affection and human contact, and yes this is the same girl who lived in a studio by herself for over a year. I eventually had to have a talk with him, which I am sure he thought was some sort of break up talk. (I guess the rule of never saying, "We need to talk!" should have been applied to this situation. And when I phrased it in a way that he thought it implied that I needed him to "prove" he loved me, I had to take a step back and really make it known how I felt.

"I want you to just come home and for that half hour before I leave for you and you've just gotten home, I want to just live in a little bubble of you and me." He finally understood that he was taking time away from Us to simply satisfy his boredom. And after talking about it, it got better. I appreciated that in a way that I can't even begin to put to words. Listening to someone, and then making an effort to change how you do something is a great form of love when you want to make them happy.

I guess the heart of the reason for me having not written though is based solely on the fact that I have been just stressed enough to not be able to put to words everything in my life. Ethan and I adopted a dog, (he is wonderful, and there will be pictures soon), I figured out what I am going to do with my life, (medical technology) I became basically the sole person who can do everything at my job which basically means I not only the person who has to come in everyday, but I am the teacher of all the procedures, and basically on call on the weekends.

And at least the whole "figuring out my life" bit takes away a small amount of stress, the whole "getting my degree," thing is a brand knew stressor. Especially when I am going to have to take out loans and such, (until recently I wasn't even sure how loans worked!).

Ultimately, I have just been feeling a little overwhelmed by the task that is Life, and that has always taken a tole on my writing. I feel sometime that in order to be Me I need to be happy, bubbly, or carefree, and what I am feeling on the inside is more or less constant thinking and analyzing and being retrospective, especially about myself. And that also makes it hard for me to write because I like to write in a carefree happy manner.

I just don't like to be a Debby Downer! (Sigh. I feel like I am though, who wants to readabout stress, or at least someone else being stressed, when basically the whole world is stressed?)

I do have some actual real things planned to write about though in the future. One is even a three parter! So do please stay tuned. I am going to at the very least have something written on Saturday, mostly because I think that will be the day that there is good news, (with a long explanation before hand of all the bad that has happened).

There is also going to be a story about how my dog broke his leg, which is basically a sad story but it taught me about loans! So that is cool/twisted. And spoiler, he is actually all better which is a relief since I love taking him hiking and walking and running and swimming.

It's Official! We're Moving!

So, Ambria and I have our lease coming up at the end of this month, and we were hoping to move. The first reason is that we just really want to have a backyard. The second reason is because while we like living on the third floor, we would really like to have our kitchen, and where we store our groceries, on the first floor.

My mother actually owns a house with her boyfriend that they rent out. Now a lady was living there, and because she didn't like that their house was three stories, was hoping that she could get out of her year long lease. And because Ambria and I were looking, the lady gave her thirty day notice and is leaving on September 30.

Now our lease is up on September 30, so if we want to move out that day, it would be one incredibly stressful day of moving, since would have to vacate by 5:30pm.

So we called our landlord on the first of September to see if we could rent for one more month. He didn't call back for five incredibly stressful days.

But when he did, he said we could have our last month's rent applied to October, which just makes everything so much better, cleaner, and easier. We really couldn't be more pleases with the situation.

Everything seemed to be falling into place, and with the addition of my boyfriend moving in with us, Ambria and I are looking at easier bills to pay since we will be splitting everything three ways. It seemed like all was good. I just had to inform my dad and Sharon.

Now I knew they wouldn't be happy, mostly because Sharon is constantly on a roll badmouthing my mom. It's either She is so irresponsible about this, or She is only concerned about herself or She really has no idea how to make herself happy.

Which honestly, I have no idea how someone can judge someone else's happiness, but whatever.

But before we even had this conversation, she had to first badmouth me about how I am just "not succeeding" at school because I haven't gotten my Bachelor's yet. ("I did it in four years," she constantly points out to me.)

And then, to put the icing on the cake, she attacked Ambria for not being in school, saying, "If you don't get a degree in something, you will never be successful at anything. You are making yourself into a failure. Doesn't your mom care about you?"

Basically she was on a roll of just being a horrible bitch monster.

So I waited until we were leaving to go home to tell them that our home was going to be moving.

Sharon plastered on a super fake smile, said it was great, voiced concerns about Ambria and my "safety," in the neighborhood, and stood there with her hands folded in front of her like she was supremely uncomfortable.

We pointed out that our friend Zach lives in the neighborhood, and Dad even said his friend lived in the same block just a few streets over in the neighborhood. Not only are we farther away from a major street, (unlike at the moment) but I have already lived in the house before when I was younger and don't remember having any sort of problems anyways!

We just nodded and shrugged and smiled and left as soon as possible, because we were just done. Done with her superior, "I KNOW BETTER THAN YOU!" attitude.

And even though I know she went upstair with my dad and complained and whined and yelled at my dad what a "disappointment" I was, I figured it would just blow over.

It didn't. Sharon later decided to text me to inform me how Ambria was "limiting my possibilities" and I was "tying myself down" where Ethan is concerned. And in the most adult way possible, I explained that I am twenty-two, I have been living by myself since I was nineteen, and I am perfectly capable of making rational and well thought out decisions, she basically suggested I was nothing more than a child, making a childish decision.

So while I knew they weren't going to like what I was doing, I was at least hoping they would be falsely supportive.

We are still moving obviously, (we gave our sixty day notice). I just don't think that I am going to be seeing very much of either of them for a while. Mostly because I am mad, but also because I am not one of Sharon's employees to be managed and taken care of. She either needs to accept that this is yet another chapter in my life, or risk me closing down the lines of communication with them even further.

Hives with a Sprinkle of Anaphylaxis

I am currently on three shots for my allergies, once a week. I drive the half hour to the doctors office to get stuck with three needles, two in one arm, one in the other, to then wait another half hour to make sure I don't have a deadly reaction, and you know... DIE.

So four weeks ago, I went in and they had upped my dose. It went fine. No big reaction other than I had itchy arms like usual.

I went in for my shots again the next week.

I was sitting, waiting for the half hour to be up and my ears were itching. For those of you unaware, I have four piercing in each ear, (two holes in each lobe, a industrial in my left ear, my cartilage and tragus in my right ear). I didn't think much of this situation. Itchy ears? No big deal! Right?

WRONG.

So my ears were itching, and a little hot, but I still felt like I was okay.

The half hour mark rolled over, and I had to go to work anyways, so I went up to the counter, showed them my arms which were literally having NO reaction whatsoever, and went about my day.

I was about twenty minutes away from the allergy office when I started having an itchy neck. And then I was having shortness of breath. And I looked at myself in my mirror and saw that I was red. Really red.

And then I watched as hives slowly started popping out of my face like huge demon zits on my neck and over my chin.

I should mention that bumps of any kind totally freak me out. Like scar bumps, pimples, zits, cysts... every single bump thing I have seen pretty much can put me on the track to vomiting up anything that might be sitting in my stomach. So watching these bumps little crawl up my neck like egyptian scarabs in The Mummy made me want to puke all over myself.

I knew at this point I either needed to go back to my allergy office or find and Urgent Care center.

I was fifteen minutes away from the Urgent Care and twenty from the allergy office so I picked the Urgent Care.

I drove there in a state of panic, parked my car, and ran over to the Urgent Care.

"Uh, hi," I wheezed out, "I wasn't sure if I should go here, or to like, the emergency room, but its cheaper to come here for my insurance..."

"Uh." The receptionist was great with words.

"I got my allergy shots and now I am like breaking out... I just need like benadryl?" I thought I was going to pass out from using all of my meager oxygen.

"Right, here." She handed me some forms as the doctor, a tiny little asian lady saw me.

"Oh my goodness! What's happening? What did you eat?"

I again explain how I got my allergy shot, stayed at the office the required thirty minutes and started breaking out after I had left. And all the while I am having to call my dad and get the insurance number from him.

And my dad, whom I love, decides he needs to have a twenty minute conversation with me.

"Dad, look, I have to go. I am like breaking out in hives, so I need to go see the doctor."

"Right, right. I'll be up in a little bit."

When I finally do hang up, I am ushered back to a room where I am asked all of these questions, the whole while my face so swollen up, its gone numb. My lips had swollen up to almost the size of three twizzlers wrapped together. And I was pretty sure that no one could tell the difference between my face and my neck.

Finally my dad arrived just as the little asian doctor came in with a triple dose of benadryl and a quintuple dose of prednisone. They were in liquid form, but I took them like a shot, washed it back with some water, and waited for the magic to happen.

"You're puffy," is literally the first thing my dad says to me.

"Yeah, I can't really feel my face." It's possible that my skin is just going to straight up burst and all of my blood and muscles are going to spill out onto the floor.

After about twenty minutes, I can feel my blood pressure lower. The throbbing heat in my ears had finally started to abate. And my breathing, which was more like tiny gasps into lungs that felt filled with seawater, had cleared up. With a little sigh, I was able to sit back.

When the doctor finally released me, I was sent home with a prescription for an epipen and more prednisone. What I intended to do was to go home and sleep off the benadryl, but instead I had a million things to do and ended up being awake to well past midnight.

In the end, I went back for my allergy shots the next week, but it was a slightly decreased dose. And I am required to take allergy meds an hour before each appointment. But at least I survived hives and a decreased ability to breath. I would say that is pretty good.

Reasons Not to Park on My Street

My wonderful boyfriend Ethan decided to come down to my house Friday night. He legally parked his car across the street from my apartment and came on up for beer and popcorn and movie called Croczilla.

We went to bed around midnight or so, then the next morning got up for bagels, coffee and a little game of Donkey Kong. Around 12:30, we decided to make our way downstairs so we could start our epic date, (we were going to the Train Museum then to a brewery for dinner!). He was being incredibly helpful and taking out my recycling, (because I actually do try in little ways to save the planet) so he gave me the keys, "So you can start the AC."

Naturally, I hopped down the street in my cute little dress to the end of the sidewalk. I looked right, (the direction he usually parked), then left. And then I looked back at him on the second floor looking over at me. I scrunched up my face, (partially to do with sun exposure, and partially out of confusion). He had to be fucking with me. He had to have parked his car down the street, out of view. That was why he had given me the keys, so play a game of confusion and treachery. Because my first thought was OH MY GOD HIS CAR HAS BEEN FUCKING STOLEN!

"You see the car, right?" He called.

"Uh..."

"Ana, you see the car right?" Now I was definitely thinking he was pulling my leg.

"Where... did you park it?" I wasn't feeling annoyed really, just like he was playing a very silly game.

He proceeded to talk the the neighbor who happened to be smoking outside on the fire escape. I distinctly heard, "No... no way."

"Ethan?" I called.

"Just one minute." He went back upstairs then came back down, (needing to return my recycle bin) and looked as perturbed as I felt.

"Holy shit. He's right. The fucking car is gone."

WHAT?!

"What?" I end up yelping like a kicked dog. Then he tells me what the neighbor told him.

A drunk asshole in that silver Sierra, *queue pointing down the street* was driving down the street at around ten, ten-thirty, decided to make a left turn in his car. FOR NO APPARENT REASON.

The car scraped the road, ended up on the curb, and was basically smashed into smithereens.

I had to see the truck.

Walking down, the front driver side of the bumper was basically shorn off, and covered in red car paint, but there wasn't a whole lot more damage. (I mean, yes, Lil' Red Car did some serious damage, but I wish his car had been demolished).

After walking around for a little bit, looking at what I have been calling the scene of the crime, a cop did come around and talk to us. He told us that the guy had been arrested and all his information taken, (which we still aren't sure means that he has insurance until the police report was filed last night at eleven). The car was towed to the city tow lots, (WHICH OH MY FUCKING GOD WE CAN'T EVEN LOOK AT THE FUCKING CAR UNTIL MONDAY) and we were left to wonder what the fuck happened for close to a half hour.

So the pros are the asshole was arrested, and that bitch isn't going anywhere.
Ethan and I are uninjured.
Our neighbor was kind enough to have collected a little information for us.

The cons are OH MY GOD THE CAR IS TOTALLED.

Yep, that's pretty much it. I think that is a pretty big con. Because it sucks balls, and is stupid, and a totally freak incident because there was NO REASON to turn left there. AT ALL.

But I guess I will look at the brightside that yes, Ethan and I are unharmed. And that is very good.

The Trials of Becoming an Adult

I realize that I have been on an exceedingly long hiatus, and for that I am sorry. Honestly, it feels like I have had no reason to not post. I really should have been. This year had not been incredibly difficult, nor has there been trials such as last year, (namely my grandfather dying, my dog dying, my car exploding, and a once good friend showing her true colors).

But I have not posted recently. In a few months, I will have had a full year away from my blog that I dearly love. There is something comforting about getting online and seeing so many views, knowing that someone stumbled across my humble work and laughed at how ridiculous I am, or how silly my friends are.

While I cannot pinpoint why I took such a long hiatus, I can attest that the above incidents in my life did effect me in a great, and very painful way. I don't know who wouldn't be effected by the death of a loved one. The realistic part of me says, "He was almost ninety years old," and that means that I should therefore be able to get over the loss of my grandfather. But the reality is that no matter how much I try to reason away feelings, I am a very emotional person and his passing has left is mark on me.

Losing my dog had also left a lasting impression, mostly because of my lack, my mother's lack, and Adam lack of ability to do anything for this furry creature we loved so unconditionally and who loved us back in the same way. It's hard to say that we could have paid to have this huge tumor removed from his stomach, but that meant the difference between making Cooper better and paying bills, buying groceries, getting gas. We loved our stinky, black dog who was afraid of new people and little dogs. We couldn't make him better, and watching him whither away to the point where he couldn't stand on his own still saddens me.

My friend, or I suppose former friend, turning on me like she did has left a lasting impression. I have questioned myself, wondering why I picked Regina as a friend that I left stick around like I did. Basically I came to the conclusion that my own personality; my inability to give up things I feel passionately about and my loyalty to my friends and family was my greatest weakness with Regina. I loved and card about her so much that I was willing to look past her anger and bitterness. I was willing to simply allow her to treat me like I was less because of how much I had come to live and care for her. And it hurt me so much to not only give up on our friendship, but to recognize that no matter how much I want to be right about someone, I am simply not always right.

Now these are most of the depressing things, but there have been many good things. Ambria and I living in our apartment has gone splendidly well, and that probably had been part of the hiatus. We are able to hang out with each other, plan things to do together, and basically have a greater companionship than even that of our highschool days. Without having my alone time that was usual in the studio, I find myself not shutting people or opportunities down. Instead of seeking my solitude, I have someone to hang with, and that makes blogging slightly harder. (Not that it's bad, I just need to make real, good time for myself and my writing pursuits.)

Besides having a wonderful friend and roommate, I also have met a wonderful guy. And yes, I do give him a lot of my time. But it's because I genuinely care about him and feel like it is necessary for him to know how much I appreciate his calm, gentle and living presence. Honestly, I can see myself being with him for years and years. And while the adults in my life have given me the life lesson to not assume someone will be your forever, I hope Ethan won't ever break my heart.

I have also gotten a new job working in a lab, which is something i think I want to do. It's a great internship, and while the past isn't amazing, I am learning so much that I simply haven't learned in any classroom. Some of the work is tedious, but every new experiment had been something new and interesting for me to learn, and it has definitely kept me busy.

Another big change recently has been an addition to move and Ambria's furry family. We adopted a new kitten, who had been keeping mine, Ambria's, and Nubs' hands full. Besides Nubs love/hate relationship with Shakira, Ambria and I have been having to make sure the two cats don't actually injure each other in a scratch fest of epic proportions.

So, in total, those are some of the things that's been keeping me busy. And while I will concede that none of those things are actually the sole responsible reason, they have all been playing a role in me ignoring my duties as a writer.

My vow is to do better. I won't be promising a post a week, but I am going to try to at least post biweekly. Maybe my New Years goal will be to post weekly, but for now, I think I won't hold myself up to such a high standard.

(Half of my trepidation has been fear of letting down my readers, so please don't hate me for the long silence. It's not that I didn't want to write, it's just that I have felt unable to provide work that could be up to par. I will be posting again, and soon. And yes, at least one post will be about the magic of manatees.)

The Mayor of Wentzville

When I was in elementary school, I went to a multitude of assemblies. I once went to an assembly where this guy dressed as Ronald McDonald acted out a twisted version of Little Red Riding Hood. I still don't know why he was dressed as Ronald McDonald, nor where the Hamburgler was, but I remember it clearly.

One assembly that held almost no meaning for me, but I still remember was one I attended in second grade.

There are a few reasons I remember this assembly. The first was that my teacher, Mrs. Smith had just went on maternity leave. We went from having this little plump, brown haired woman to this tall blond woman with a strong jaw and short, spiky hair. I remember I once asked her if she played football because of her wide shoulders.

The second reason I remember this assembly is because our class was almost in the front row, right in front of the stage. The stage was sort of this sacred place in my head. Only the girls in gymnastics were ever allowed up there, and in second grade I was way too short to climb up on the stage myself. So you either had to be cool enough, (and have parents rich enough) to be in gymnastics, or be tall enough, (which was another sign of the ultimate coolness) to climb up on the stage.

(As a side note, in fourth grade I actually got to be on the stage for the Christmas Pageant when my music class got to sing. I thought it was very cool. It was only a few months after that that the music teacher was arrested as being a child molester.)

Anyways, I was sitting with my class at the foot of the stage, looking up, waiting for the grand entrance of who knew. The kids in the bleachers were stomp-stomp-clapping their impatience, when finally the curtains were pulled aside and this short white woman with short red and brown hair in a purple pant suit trimmed in gold came out on stage. Her shoes were high heeled and pointy and her teeth were incredibly white. She waved that "I'm famous, please cheer" wave as she walked from the left to the right of the stage and then back to the center where microphone, the American flag and the Missouri flag were positioned.

She was (apparently) the Mayor of Wentzville.

Now she may have told us kids many great lessons that day, but I only remember one. Here was her story:

"I went to a department store one, you know?" She said that a lot, 'you know?' I don't know why we would have. We were ages five to eleven. "Well at the department store, I was trying on things, hats and shirts and scarves, you know? Well I couldn't find anything I liked. You know how that is. So, I left, but I left without knowing that I had..." And she paused for dramatic effect, bending forward slightly and looking all across the gymnasium turned auditorium, "A sticker on the back of my head!" And then she laughed, all high pitched like. She tossed back her head and shook the spikes like she actually had long hair.

"So I walked around the other stores on the strip," when she said this, several kids giggled, "with this sticker on the back of my head, you know?" She proceeded to shake her head from side to side like she was truly embarrassed by this whole ordeal. I didn't see where the story was going, so I started playing with my shoe laces.

"I am walking around, looking in stores, and people are looking at me like I am so crazy, you know? I have this sticker on my head, stuck in my hair, and they see it, you know? And no one stops to tell me. What does that make those people? Mean!" She pointed her first finger at the roof and the stage curtains, placing her hand and microphone on her hip. Some kids nodded, of course those people were mean for not telling her.

"And I probably would have gone the whole day with with sticker on my head until this nice old man came up. And you know what he said?" Nobody said anything. This was obviously the punch line. It was going to uproariously funny, we all just knew it. The Mayor was obviously a funny lady with her hair and her purple suit and her pointy shoes.

"Well he said, 'Ma'am, you've got a sticker in your hair.'" And she nodded. And she looked around at all of us kids, he face reading something like, You know?

"So you see kids, that is why you should always tell someone if something is wrong with them." She smiled and nodded again, and we all clapped. She was obviously some kind of manners prophet, I was just missing it.

"Don't forget to tell your parents to vote for me in the next election!" She waved some more, and smiled with her large white teeth, and exited stage right.

I went home that night, and when my mom and dad asked me what happened at school, I told them with a great amount gusto, "This lady came to our school. She had sticker stuck in her hair, and this old man told her that it was stuck in her hair. That's how you become a good person."