Monday, October 31, 2005

It’s all so Drama and ABC After School Special-ly

We have returned from the grand and great metropolis of NYC. Enriched by its culture, awed by its size, grossed out by a few of the smells, annoyed by its taxes and generally thrilled by the whole experience. I had been there once before in college, but Re and the kids were NYC virgins. Carrie, I think especially enjoyed it. I’ll have more on some specific stuff, but for now I’ll just toss this out.

First of all, getting there wasn’t the smoothest process we’ve ever enjoyed as a family unit. Reha had a perma-cold that left her stranded on the couch for most of the evening before, left to give orders to children on what to pack and what to take, etc. We ended up going to bed a bit late and in the grand tradition of the Deal family, no one was sleeping in their appointed beds (except Carrie, who always sleeps in her own bed), people were sprawled all over the place. Specifically, Reha was in Lucas’ bed, Jonah in ours, Ellis on the couch and Lucas scrunched up in a chair in the living room. The practical upshot of all of this bed switching was that Jonah, in his quest to have silence and solitude, had inadvertently locked himself in our bedroom. And it’s not just one of those “pick with an untwisted paper clip” jobs. It’s a real live lock, and requires a key or some real lock picking skills. We don’t have clue one where that key is. It’s possible we didn’t get it when we closed on the house, I don’t know. And I don’t have mad skillz in the lock picking department.

Now normally, I’d let that slide. I could probably wake up in time to get people out the door without the aid of an alarm clock. Sometimes I can just rely on circadian rhythms and my own preternatural ability to be on time to get me moving. However, we had to be up yea, verily early in the morning. The plane left at 10:20 and there was still “final” packing to do. Toothbrushes, toiletries, etc. Plus, the Deal family is a lumbering beast and it just takes us a while to get moving in any specific direction. Out the door being the direction we need to go usually.

Not wanting to disturb anyone else in the house (especially Reha as she’s just this side of being dead with the nasty head cold), I tried lightly tapping on the door. “Jonah. Jonah! Jonah!!” I whispered through the crack between the bottom of the door and the floor. Silence from our room. He’s got all the lights on in there, though, I could see that.

Reha wakes up from the next room and shuffles out. I let her know what’s going on and she gives me this knowing little smile that says, “This is the kind of thing that only happens to us, you know.”

She tried calling to him a couple of times. I was sort of hoping that some kind of maternal call-of-the-wild-supernatural thing would kick in and he’d rise to his mother’s voice. No luck there. Finally, we decided that I’m just going to have to break the door down. We have to get in there. Both for the alarm and for the good hair gel the master bath holds.

So I huff and I puff and take a flying leap and do some serious violence to the door. It was impressive, if I do say so myself. I went in so hard that I fell down into our room. Ripped the frame right off and the door bounced back and hit me in the shin on my way down.

Jonah did not budge an inch, I’m sure. He has no recollection of any of that. Not the 10 minutes of calling and knocking, nor the HUGE thud of the door breaking down. He’s hard to get to sleep, but once he’s down, he’s not getting back up until he’s good and ready.

So add “new door frame in Master Bedroom” to my giant list o’ things to do.

There is also a delicious story about almost missing the plane the next morning, but that shall have to wait. But the moral of that story is that the siren call of a tasty Cinnabon is difficult to resist.

The only other thing I’ll leave with you is a nice bookend scene from the plane ride home. We are nestling into our seats and Lucas begins to play with the near useless AirPhone that’s in the seat in front of him. No one EVER uses those things, do they? Reha tells him to stop touching it and Carrie chimes in with, “What if he were wearing gloves so he wasn’t really touching it?” which starts Lucas down the road of getting a piece of plastic to put in between the AirPhone and his hand and then Reha gives both Carrie and Lucas the “Stink Eye” that says, “I’ve been cooped up with all you people for four days in small-ish hotel rooms, crowded subways and sidewalks and in the back of a limo, so DO NOT START that kind of thing with me.” It was an amazing look. She didn’t utter a sound. Carrie, sensing danger, wisely retreats but leaves us with this gem, “Fine, OK, I will take and wrap myself in this blanket as a substitute for motherly affection.” Which I’m sure she meant with the best of intentions.

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Holy Crap! Look at all this STUFF down here. It's awesome!

 

Really, I'm glad you made it down here. Almost no one ever comes down here. I'm like in a freaking dungeon down here. I get lonely. But not you. YOU made it all the way to the end of the page. For this I think I've a little crush on you. I don't know, is "love" to strong a word to use in this situation? Well, if it's not "love," then it's very strong "like." I'm totally in like with you for coming down here. You are awesome. Please love me back! I know, I know, I shouldn't be all needy, it's not attractive at all, but you don't know how it is to be stuck down here. Who scrolls all the way to the end of a page anymore these days? Anyway, thanks for shedding some light down here in the depths. I appreciate it. Shoot me an email and I'll send you a dollar, OK?

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