Monday morning starts a new year and a stepping stone for both myself and my students as we enter the high school years and go the final stretch to the end. It’s a bittersweet return to work as I don’t want to go back and at the same time I am really excited to get back to work! I had pulled Sammy out of school for five weeks with wonderful thoughts of quality time dancing in my head. Five weeks flew by and our time together was really short – no one’s fault, just the way it went. I had nice thoughts of spending quality time with friends as well, and I didn’t get to see them this summer! I had so much planned for my long break off – and now I need a vacation. This summer hasn’t been a bad one, things did get done and my mother’s back feels a lot better. I was hardly home and so that’s what suffered the most – my house looks like crap with yards of dirt and sagebrush… to say the least. Ten-week summer break is quickly coming to a close and Monday morning will be an adventure!

I had worked at the high school here for a short time in the fall of 2004, but it didn’t go well. No one told anyone I was coming, so when I got there they were confused as to who I was and why I was there. After explaining myself I found the student and lived out the rest of my time there explaining myself to everyone. I came and went without making an impression – and I really think that no one even realized I was gone. When I knew I would be returning to the high school this year as a more serious staff member I wanted to do it right! I called and met with the special education principal and got set up with her. I then attended the staff breakfast on Wednesday to be introduced to the existing staff as a new staff member (even though I have worked in the district for three years, and spent one semester at the high school). I want everyone to know who I am and why I am going to be there. I can only hope that when they see me in the lounge this year I won’t hear the ever so annoying question, “Hi.” Confused look on face, “Who are you subbing for?” It was the most popular question when I worked there the last time. To my surprise, on Wednesday morning, people recognized me! Is it possible that I made a lasting impression the last time I worked there? This put a little smile on my face and helped calm my nerves (a little). It was a breakfast so I picked up half a muffin (that looked and smelled absolutely yummy) and I had stopped for a Starbucks Latte. I sat with a lady I had seen as a sub at the middle school and her son attends the same school Sammy does – we connected on the “we both have sons who go to the same school” level. She had just been hired as an English teacher and was also being introduced as a new staff member. I tried taking a bite from my muffin as I chatted with the folks at my table, but it was like impossible to chew my small bite and took me forever to swallow it. I stuck to my coffee and tried to chill out. The three principals got up and started introducing the new staff members – who they pulled up in front of everyone! Oh my god! My heartbeat sped up as I feared that I would freeze with fear when they called my name. *side note here – Everyone who knows me finds this hard to believe, but it happens all the time! My brain shuts off communication to the rest of my body and movement becomes close to impossible. For an Interpreter – this is not a good thing and I have done a pretty good job at controlling my anxiety.* My name was called and I stood up telling myself over and over again, “Relax, just relax.” I made it to the front and braved it through a smile and a wave as they said what my job was. I casually walked back to my seat, like an old pro, and finally took a breath! “And the Oscar goes to…” Yeah, I was proud of myself.

Friday I went and met with a few of the teachers I could find and I know that is going to help a lot! I really want the teachers to feel comfortable with me and my students and I want the entire staff to know how friendly and willing to help out I am. I think I made my point and it’s going to be a good year. My students have also started their soccer year – already! I really like having these few weeks of soccer practice before getting back to school, because I get a pretty awesome looking tan and look as if I went some place exotic over the vacation. I have a good feeling about this year and I really hope that through it all I can stay in touch with the Pants gang from the middle school – Mister Naughty Pants and the Pants ladies from the grooviest room on earth – party on! I miss the Pants gang a lot – and I hate to think of my lonely year ahead of me. The high school folks all work through their lunch – only a few take lunch and it’s never the same crowd twice in the lounge. I’ll figure it out – it’ll be good. After the end of our three year reign at the high school, and the day my students walk across the stage with their heads high and proud, it will be the end for me in Douglas County as well. My family needs to move on to bigger and better things and Nevada isn’t where it’s going to happen.

Monday morning will be the official end to summer break as all the excited and nervous high school students cram the halls and find their first class to start the end of their years as children…

The ever popular “potty mouth” patrol made its rounds to me. There’s no target on one’s back larger than the ones on the backs of parents – mothers to be more specific. Let me paint you a picture of a girl in a store who drops a can of pop. It explodes with an ear-piercing sound, and as everyone looks to see what it was the girl screams, “Oh FUCK!” First reaction most people have at this moment is, “Oh – it was just a coke can exploding on the floor.” Now, picture this – A mother and her son in a bookstore. The little toddler is running around being a normal toddler, and the mother is simply standing by watching her son act like a monkey. Nothing wrong here, onlookers smile and pass sometimes watching the cute little boy play for a few moments before continuing with their shopping. The little boy – cute as a button! – gets onto a small child’s chair and OOPS! slips off, smacking his head onto the corner of the little kiddie table. The mother gasps with fear that her poor little guy might be hurt and without thinking lets out an, “Oh fuck!” as she jets to her son’s aid and makes sure he is okay. The first reaction from the onlookers, “Oh my! Did you hear what she said? In front of her child!” I am sure if they could have cuffed the mother and thrown her in potty mouth jail they would have. Okay, the second person was indeed ME and my little fella, Sammy…

I reacted without thought and that’s what came out – should I be judged as a parent because I dropped the “F” bomb in public? Oh please! If you said, “Yes!” to that question you need to pull that big fat stick out of your ass and get on with life. I have a naughty potty mouth and I have it under control. There are times when words fly out without you thinking about it – it happens to the best of us. I do use naughty “no-no” language in front of my (almost) three-year-old son and seven-year-old niece, *gasp* neither of them are little potty mouths in training. My son does not go around telling people to fuck off because he has heard mommy say it. Nor, does mommy go around telling people to fuck off because the movies made it look and sound so cool. I figure, these words are a part of life and I do not want my children to be one of those folks with the sticks up their asses. I don’t want them to be addicted to using bad words all the time either. No one sounds smart saying, “What da fuck you looking at mother fucker? Get the fuck over here! I’ll fuck your ass up!” Yeah, that was impressive! What would have sounded a lot more educated would have been, “Can I help you?” I will make sure my children understand that difference.

I also enjoy throwing bad words into writing – it just makes it a little more exciting and puts emphasis on a strong point. Like the cook, Emeril , with his “Bam!” in spicing up his food – I like to throw in my own kind of “Bam!” by dropping an “F” bomb or two. I had written a post about idiots working at fast food joints and I went on and on about the fast food nightmare I had endured. I had written that I was annoyed with them and said, “No more! I don’t care how fucking hungry we all are, I will not go back and waste my money on those assholes!” Someone by the screen name Amanda Huginkiss wrote a comment all about that one line. We know that Amanda is probably the person who would like to have thrown me in potty mouth jail for my choice of words in the bookstore (stick – pull it out). That “Amanda” person wrote a comment

(and I quote), “Did you really yell “F’ing” and “A$$holes” in front of your niece, and possibly other children?!? sheesh woman, get a grip!” Yeah… I am not the one who needs to get a grip.

11 14 eleven fourteen the movie dvdrip

No, I do not agree with people walking around talking like trailer trash (with young children around or not) because they think it makes them look and sound cool. It makes them look like idiots – ones that maybe should look into getting a job at a fast food joint. I like to be a respected person of the community and people who know me are shocked to find out that I can use such language in a casual manner. I also don’t agree with shielding such language from my children. It’s out there no matter what you do. They are going to be exposed to it in one way or another and so why be a prude? I figure that if they hear it and it’s no big deal then it will not phase them to hear it out in public. They won’t fall over laughing because the man just said, “Fucker!” Nor will they slap a quick hand covering their mouth with a gasp of disbelief. They won’t be addicted either and they won’t be the annoying ass walking around talking like trailer trash. My niece, who is seven, knows that those words are there and it’s no big deal. At the same time she knows it’s not right to go around saying them.

My son had a brief love affair with the phrase, “Son of a bitch!” but it didn’t last long. He was using it in the correct context – not exactly meaning a son of a female dog, but he was annoyed nonetheless. He also was using the word, “Damn!” in a way we would as well. In traffic one day he was annoyed that we weren’t moving faster and I explained to him I could only go as fast as the car in front of me and his reply was, “Oh dammit car!” He hasn’t said either one in a long time – but when he did say them I didn’t react to the language, but treated what was annoying him. A two-year-old isn’t going to say “son of a bitch!” because he’s being defiant – there’s something he’s trying to express and his only thoughts of how mommy could understand his feeling is by saying this choice phrase. Nothing that needs soap or a spanking or even a “Time-out!” Just a little understanding and TLC.

I am sure I will be judged harshly by my potty mouth and the simple fact that I am a parent – remember the girl in the store with the pop? I am A-OK with that because in the end I am an awesome mommy. Just remember that. I am a great person and if you take the time to get to know ME, you’ll find there’s nothing to worry about. If you simply read this blog you must know that it’s an adult read with a few naughty words thrown in. So, fuck off and let ME be ME! *wink*

I know there is a lot of controversy about fast food – and I don’t really disagree with either side. One hand – is it really not the healthiest food. They advertise the healthy salads and wraps and whatnot, but if you look close the at the calorie numbers and the list of ingredents you’ll find a lot more then you expected. On the other hand – it’s food. If abused, any food can be the enemy. It is nice to be able to drive through fast food every once in a while and grab some easy food on the go. When there is no time to stop, get everyone and everything out of the car and go into a place to be waited on and finally eat. There are times that I know that Sammy is too tired and hungry to sit down in a resturant and wait for food. We don’t go get fast food too often, but the few times we do I have noticed a growing problem with all the fast food joints – the people they hire to work there. They are morons! It’s like the people in charge (probably morons themselves) try to hire people who are the brainless rude fuck-ups of the community! I need to tell you all right now that once upon a time I worked at Wendy’s fast food burger joint – and needless to say I wasn’t there too long. Scott also worked at Wendy’s through high school and college – and then was fired because some brainless rude fuck-up co-worker stole money from the safe (that was supposed to be open and unlocked during business hours!)! My mother-in-law, who was a stay-at-home parent, also worked at Wendy’s as a time filler while the boys were in school. Just a few hours a day and a little extra cash in her pocket. She watched as these stupid people were hired on and worked their way to the top… the top of what? That’s a proud title “Manager of Wendy’s” yeah, you’re important now! Maybe I am being a little harsh, but there are stupid people who have made that title what it is today – nothing.

I have gone through countless drive throughs and they all seem to have the same mentality – “duh what?” I try not to make the order too complicated, because I know that if I make one request that’ll throw them off then the entire order will be shit. “I would like a burger with cheese but no onion or tomato… blah, blah, blah.” Everything after the separate request is not heard because they are sitting in there trying to figure out what button to push for the special request. They then say, “Umm, ok. I have one burger with cheese and no tomato. Is that all?” I feel like saying, “No, you stupid shit, I also did not want onion on that along with two orders of fries and a large drink!” Can’t get annoyed at them because you know that their brain cells wouldn’t be able to handle the overload of an angry person and not only will they become even more confused, but they will then spit on the burger to show you who’s dumb! I try to be very simple in ordering from the fast food folks, “I need a cheese burger kids meal and a chicken strips kids meal – both with Sprite to drink.” I always pause here, knowing that the person taking the order is either confused or taking a puff off the joint he/she had in their pocket. I wait for the, “Ok, anything else.” prompt to continue with my order. I fear that the rest of my order will mess up the kids meals I have already ordered – and seven times out of ten it does. “I need a cheese burger meal -” this is where they cut you off to ask what size you want your fries and drink to be. A lot of the time I just get the big one, then Scott and I share. “Medium.” I stop because I know that they need to ask what I want to drink with that and then find the right key to push. Meanwhile I fear too much time has gone by and they are piling food in identical bags at the drive through pick-up window for mindless hand out. “What to drink with that?” Ok, my mother wants iced tea with extra ice… no matter how much I tell her that they won’t do it, she wants me to ask for it every time. “I need an iced tea with extra ice. I also need a -” Oops, didn’t give enough time to process that drink thought – plus, I asked for something different – oh good god! “Ok,” here it comes, this is where even though I am not finished with my order, they have had enough of my confusing order and deem me finished. “You wanted a cheese burger kids meal with sprite, a chicken strips kids meal with sprite, a cheese burger meal with a medium iced tea. Anything else?” Dammit! They didn’t repeat the extra ice and so I need to remind them of that and try to get my order squeezed in there. Time for the auctioneer voice: “Don’t forget the extra ice and I need an Asian Chicken Salad with a medium Sprite!” breathe… The long wait after bothers me because I know that no matter what now, the food I get will be wrong! I have said too much and the dopehead on the receiving end has no idea what language I was talking in. He/she needs to ask for help and an entirely different voice comes across to ask me, “Please drive forward and I’ll have your total at the window.” As hard as it is I smile for the camera they have at the little speaker box and say as nice as I can, “Oh, sure.”

The window is always interesting. There is always some line in front of you, giving you plenty of time to sit and wait knowing that the fries you ordered fifteen minutes ago are sitting in a bag at the window getting cold… not that sitting for an hour under a heating lamp kept them all that hot. I watch as a mystery arm hands bags of food to the cars in front of us. I watch as the arms from the car hand the bag back and gesture that was not what they ordered. Then the mystery hand gives a drink to the car hand who then hands that back with more gestures of annoyance. Oh goodie, I just know that the nightmare has just begun for us. Yeah, the ordering was hard enough, now I get to drive up and argue with the window person that I never ordered a chicken sandwitch and diet coke. The correct bags of food and drinks are finally handed to the car in front of us and they pull away. I take a deep breath and drive forward. “You had the cheese burger kids meal with Sprite, chicken strips kids meal with Sprite, a cheese burger meal with medium iced tea and an Asian Chicken Salad with medium Sprite. Is that correct?” I’m impressed, they seemed to have entered the correct information into their little computer. I smile, showing I am pleased, and say, “Yep, that’s it!” No reaction out of the drone in the window, “That’ll be $15.48.” I hand my money over with high hopes that I just might get everything I ordered successfully. They hand me the correct change from the $20 – and why wouldn’t they? The computer that takes the orders also shoots out change – making the job for the brainless drone that much easier! Could you imagine them having to figure out your change??? Oh that would be bad! You’d have to argue about the order and the change? Heaven forbid! Here come the drinks, a quick look and there is already a problem. I turn to say that I ordered a Sprite but there are two medium drinks, neither looking like Sprite, and she hands me yet another drink! Now, this is the Sprite, but I have a diet Coke here and I really do not want a free diet Coke. I try to give it back, “I didn’t order a diet Coke.” Of course my word means nothing, and she needs to reference the ticket the computer spit out with my order on it. She looks at like five different tickets trying to figure out which one is mine. Confused, she simply takes back the diet Coke and hands me two kids meals. I hand them back to the kids and turn to get the rest of my order. Another bag, I take a quick peek and find a burger and medum fries – good. The lady walked away and finally returned with a look of surprise. “I am waiting for my salad.” The look of confusion on her face told me everything. I just looked at her – the words of frustration fought to get out, but I held back. They could still spit in my damn salad! She ran back, grabbed a sack, and threw a salad and some stuff into it and pretty much threw it at me. She then closed the window so if I did protest, she wouldn’t hear me. I drove off annoyed with myself for falling into the fast food trap yet again! Then the cherry on the cake, the straw that broke the camel’s back – the creme de la creme came when my niece opened her cheese burger kids meal to find chicken strips!!! I threw my food down and yelled, “No more! I don’t care how fucking hungry we all are, I will not go back and waste my money on thoses assholes!”

It is the same whereever we go, every fast food joint is the same. They hire the same people to work at each fast food joint. Hey, it’s not my fault their lives suck and they have to make working at McDonald’s their career. I work hard and all I am asking is for some kindness and competence when I go through the fast food drive through for some quick food! I make sure not to be rude to anyone – first. If you’re going to be a brainless drone with an earing sticking out your lip and your front teeth missing and rude – well, I am forced to be rude back. I have a hard time believing that I eat the food they cook – and yet my busy life finds its way back in line at another drive through… I hope this time was the last. I have always been a proud member of the In-N-Out Burger joint. Finding myself jonesing for a burger and fries with a vanilla shake on the side all the time. It’s good stuff and they take the time to weed out the brainless fuck-ups and treat their employees with respect and good insurance. The paycheck people get working at In-N-Out is probably bigger than mine. Whatever In-N-Out is doing is right. People are never rude there, always greet you with a smile, and will go the extra mile to please you. Yes, it’s fast food and I sometimes find myself taking my burger back to get them to cook it more, but you know the service there is worth the pink in a burger from time to time. I would rather wait in a long line and get a pink burger then go back to any of the other fast food joints that hire the bottom of the barrel scum no one else wants to hire. Sorry to be so crude here – but I have had it with these people! They deserve nothing from me and I will not help pay their pay checks any longer! I won’t judge you for heading over to a local fast food joint and grabbing a quick meal – because I totally understand why. I just cannot do it any more. I have tested out every place around and they are all carbon copies of one another – it sucks. My fast food nightmare ends now.

In my post “Hospital Stay…Too Much Fun” I wrote about my mother going into the hospital for back surgery. She had a short stay in the actual hospital before being checked-out and moved to the Rehab Unit. To recap a bit – her surgery was Tuesday July 25th and her move to the Rehab Unit was on Thursday July 27th. She’s been in rehab a week and one day – that’s enough! Time to go home… well, home to my house that is. On Wednesday I was at home getting ready to go to the hospital (I go every day and stay most of the afternoon – no fun in the hospital all alone) when I got a call from my mother who was on the edge of crying, “They aren’t going to let me leave until August 7th! (Monday)” I asked her if they explained why they wanted to keep her another five days. She said they had not. I told her to wait until I got there and then we could talk to the lady (rehab outpatient counselor) and get the clear and logical reasons for the extended stay. She calmed down and hung up. I was a bit annoyed with the idea of five more days – I don’t mind visiting my mother in the hospital, and I do get a lot done while there. It’s getting poor little Sammy up and dressed and all ready to go be stuck in Scott’s office all day – that’s what is bothersome. I liked the idea of having the five-week summer vacation to hang out with the little guy and I haven’t seen him too often in the past ten days.

I finally got to the hospital and the outpatient counselor (who reports what was discussed in the meeting about who goes home when) walked in to my mother’s room right after I did. I said, “Now, why do you need to keep her until Monday the seventh?” She never did give me any good reason why. She looked a little flustered as she thumbed through my mother’s paperwork. She stopped for a second and looked at my mother and asked, “Do you not want to stay that long?” My mother told her that she did not and the lady said, “Oh, okay. Well, let me go see what I can do.” and she left. I thought it was odd that she never broke it down for me – like, “Well, your mother still needs to do this and improve on that before she can be released…” The lady then returned after about two minutes and said, “Okay, your release date is for Friday August fourth. How’s that sound?” My mother was really happy to hear that date! I was a little confused. How did they simply go from a meeting where a group discussed that she needed to stay until Monday, and then a two minute chat with another person changed it to Friday?! What am I missing? I must have looked confused because the lady finally said, “She still needs to complete a few more stages of PT (physical therapy) and OT (occuptional therapy) before we can release her.” Oh… still not a reason why they were wanting to keep her until Monday. Whatever – my mother seemed to be more than happy to be getting out Friday.

A few friendly faces enjoying rehab together!

Thursday was an event-filled day with 10:15 am OT baking and 3:15 PT trip to Wal*Mart. First, I arrived to the hospital just in time to catch my mother and her occupational therapist walking into the mini kitchen they have set up for the patients. The therapist showed my mother an option of cake, brownie and cookie mixes to choose from. After looking at each I coaxed her into picking the sugar cookies – they sounded yummy! The therapist and I watched as my mother got out what she needed – bowl, cup, stick of butter, egg and mixing spoon. A few things were too high and too low, so the OT had to help out with a few things. My mother pre-heated the oven and then put her stick of butter into the cup and popped it into the microwave to melt it. While the butter was melting she opened the package of cookie mix and dumped it into the bowl. The butter was ready and she added it to the mix along with the egg (she cracked and opened herself!). My mother mixed the cookie dough and then put some foil onto their ghetto cookie sheet (it was a pizza pan – but it worked). After plopping out a few cookies – using the mixing spoon and an ice cream scoop – the OT helped her put the cookies into the oven. Eleven minutes later we had warm sugar cookies! My mother cleaned up, washed the dishes and headed back to her room for a short rest until lunch.

Ohhh… sugar cookies!!!

The OT arrived at 3:15 for the excursion to Wal*Mart – yay. The three of us traveled, slowly, down to the first floor and then I had to fetch my car and bring it around to the front – the PT had to go fetch her car and bring it around to the front. Then we had to fetch my mother from the bench she was sitting and the big scary looking man she picked a conversation with. She got into my car and we were off! We arrived at the local Wal*Mart and as were walked, slowly, up to the doors my Aunt Marian came scooting out on those little motorized carts. She looked just as surprised to see us as we were to see her. My aunt was following another guy on a motorized cart out so that she could grab it for her daughter (my cousin) who needed a little extra help due to illness. As it turned out all the Wal*Mart motorized carts were all broken but two! Wouldn’t you know it! My mother really needed the motorized cart because she needed to learn how to get around in it and what she could get and what she wasn’t supposed to try and do…etc. The three basic rules NO : 1) Bending, 2) Lifting or 3) Twisting! My aunt and cousin totally understood and I think they ended up leaving instead of staying to shop – thanks! I had brought my shopping list and we made our rounds crossing off items as we went along. It was pretty clear that my mother will not be shopping alone any time soon – but at least she can go along with us (as long as there’s an available motorized cart).

Thursday was a busy day, but the end of all her OT and PT sessions in the rehab unit of the hospital. I had to jam right after the nurse topped off the day by pulling the staples out of her back – OUCH! It was a quick night and before my mother knew it I was back on Friday and all ready to bring her home! She had so much stuff accumulating after her ten day stay! She had boquets of flowers from friends and family. She had snacks that I brought up during the stay – whatever she requested, we got her. I started to load up and walk out for a trip to the car when my mother had the idea that we put her into a wheelchair and load her and the chair up for a trip down – then come back up and check out. That seemed like a pretty good idea, so we loaded everything up – three bouqets of flowers and three bags full of stuff! I left my cell phone and Iced Latte in her room as a sign that we would indeed be back. We started off down the hall and had to explain what we were doing about five times before the cleaning lady came running down the hall after us, “Is this your cell phone?” I explained to her that we weren’t gone yet, just taking stuff to the car – and then I realized! My coffee!!! Oh god did she throw my coffee away?!? This is truly a crime – I rushed back to my mother’s room and relaxed after seeing my good ol’ Starbuck’s sitting right where I left it. I put my cell phone back down next to it and took a sip – do what you want with my cell but god help you if you touch my latte!

Bye-Bye!

Almost an hour later we were walking out of the hospital for real – no going back in, no more OT or PT. No more middle of the night nurse visits… Awww, home-sweet-home! …well, my home is where my mother will be spending a few weeks until she is stronger and more capable of caring for herself. She is resting right now in Sammy’s room – we removed most of his stuff and put them into our room. Sammy will not stay out of her room and leave her alone to rest! This last time I went to chase him out, he was standing next to her with his little toy tool from his little toy tool box. I said, “Whatya doing little fella?” He replyed, very seriously, “I am fixing Grammy.”

I had a dream the other night – and it was awesome! I woke up and didn’t want to open my eyes – I didn’t want it to go away… Reality hit and my day began. Although, the dream was so powerful I cannot forget it. The power I had and the things I could do…. it was great! Allow me to take you there and show you why it was one of the best dreams I have ever had…

My friend had called me and was frantic because they were having their house inspected by some lady from the state. It was important to pass or the state would take their kids away (or something bizarre like that). I drove right over and started to inspect the house myself. It was a large place, but it was a mess. The backyard had like twelve old junky cars all scattered around, and the fence was old and falling apart. The master bedroom was large, but all they had in there was a bed (box spring and mattress only) and a side table with a lamp. The table was old wood, polish chipping, falling apart, and the lamp was this small sad-looking white lamp. The kids room (one bedroom) looked like a room out of an old shack. The walls were leaning and the beds were small (mattress only) with just a blanket. The wooden furniture, in the kids room, was chipping and falling apart. I went back out to the yard and looked around at the mess trying to picture in my mind how it would look better. I held up my hands in front of me, palms out. I held them together for a moment and then slowly moved them outward, spreading them apart. My eyes watched in almost disbelief at what was happening – a new fence was appearing out of nowhere! After the new white six foot fence was finished, my mind power moved all the cars into one area of the yard – arranging them in an artsy fashion, so they would be nice to look at instead. I then built another fence separating the car yard and the back yard where the kids could play and they could have BBQ’s and whatnot. I mind-powered grass and a swing set with a slide. I built a big fancy BBQ and changed their old table and chairs back into their new state. I walked into the master bedroom and looked around trying to see the changes in my head. I held up my hands and I moved them from the bottom of the bed to the top, the box spring and mattress returned to their new selves and then I added the most beautiful bedding! I thought for a second, then added a wooden headboard and footboard. My friend and her husband stood beside me and they said, “No, we don’t like that.” I was surprised, I mean who wouldn’t? I asked if they wanted a different kind of headboard, but they wanted nothing – just the box spring, mattress and the bedding. Whatever – it was their house so just as easy I made the new headboard and footboard disappear. I turned to their bedside table and moving my hands returned it to new. I changed the lamp a little, just to give it a warmer feel – so, I made it bigger and changed the color to match the bedding. (I think it was a sage, but I can’t remember.) I looked at the walls and held up my hands, spreading them apart I brought the walls back to life with a fresh coat of paint.

I moved onto the kids room where I just restored mostly everything in there. There was this wooden divider panel, with three squares going down. I wondered for a second what had happened to the rest of it, but didn’t bother asking. I restored it and while my hands moved down, bringing it back to life, I added photos in each square and then added an antique look with crackled paint – it was awesome! I created a bunk bed for them with bedding, and by simply restoring the mattresses they already had. There was an old desk that I restored and added a lamp. I restored the carpet and added a few toys. I worked my way around the house, making it beautiful and livable with my power.

I was finished with the whole house and we were standing in the living room waiting for the lady to arrive when my friend remembered something in her room. We went rushing back and there was a bathroom that hadn’t been there the first time. She was panic stricken just knowing that this ugly bathroom would cause them to fail the inspection. Just as I put my hands up to fix it, the door bell rang! My friend did not want this lady knowing how I had helped them and I was unable to finish the bathroom. I went out the back door and told my friend to call me when it was over.

I walked out of her house with this happiness, this euphoric feeling that I had helped out and made a difference. It was while I was walking out of the yard I had created that I woke up – I tried to hold onto that feeling, but couldn’t.

I probably have this deep desire that I could simply move my hands and fix my own house. It needs a lot of work and it’s very hard to see the light at the end – but I know it’s there. It would be awesome to have this super power, and to be able to go around helping folks who cannot afford to upgrade their homes and the stuff inside. I would be the Extreme Home Makeover in one magical person… yeah, that’d be good.