NOV.6,2006 THE BEAR FACTS

                                                                                                

I have told everyone about a lot of adventures in my daily life, and they are all pretty well about what goes on inside my house and the immediate yard, with the exception of the rabies scare in the deer woods. So I had a experience the other day, with Homer of course, that is about the great outdoors and its inhabitants. Some of which are large, black furred critters, with long claws and even longer teeth. I am speaking of the black bear. There are several of these critters that live in close quarters with human beings. Human beings meaning me and Homer and his family!

We decided to go to visit his parents one weekend in September, and loaded up in the Nissan without paint and put the fishing poles in the back with an ice chest with our bait and something to drink in it, and I, being lockerridge, put a loaf of bread, some baloney, and mayonnaise in there also. ( never know when you might need a sandwich, could have a tornado, or flat tire, or lose our memories on how to get home, and might need a sandwich, always be prepared, lockerridge life motto!)

Any way his sister, had been telling us of a small bear that was coming up to her house at night, and eating the dog food she has on her porch. She knows that it is a bear, because she was going to go out onto the porch one morning, and could not get the door open! She pushed and pushed, she tried taking her foot and kicking it open, and that was when she heard the noise! It was like a roar, she said, and then she heard pounding footsteps! Her dog went nuts barking, but he was hiding under the porch ( this dog apparently more sane that Homers sister!) She ran to the window and saw this bear running off into the woods.

Now let me give you a personality profile of Homers sister. The woman is entirely insane. I mean over the ink blot test, needs more help than medication crazy! She runs outside( insane action no.1) and chases the bear(insane action no.2) in her nightgown and barefeet(insane action no.3)! After chasing it into the woods for about 300 ft., she returns to her house( maybe she is improving), and calls Homers and her Dad( getting more confident in her mental condition), and tells him about this bear, whom she affectionatley referred to as Willie( nope she is a goner).

The part of the story where we needed the ice chest is in the works here, stay with me. It takes a whole village to help me write one of these blogs, ya know!hehe

Anyway this led to the purchase of wildlife cameras. These are cameras that deer hunters use to cheat with. They tack them onto trees and they are motion activated and have night photo capibilities. ( no these are not cheats, they claim they are tools, ha!) Turns out ole Willie has quite a family he lives with, not far from the rest of the human beings in Homers family. They counted 5 that they have on the photos. Yep, and sis is out there chasing after Willie who is the baby cub of one of the big ones! ( ummm hummmm, insane I tell you!)

Anyway this particular Saturday that we were heading for a visit, to Bearville Woods, we were tootling along, enjoying the nice day, the fact that paintless Nissan was not backfiring, and Homer as usual was gawking out the side window, trying to spot a deer. I as usual was watching the road closely, so I could scream out when he was running off the road and into the ditch, when I saw the biggest bear I have ever seen, run across the road in front of us!!!!!!!!!

I was struck dumb! Not a sound would pass my lips! I frantically grabbed Homer's arm and pointed, he of course would not look, and actually tried to pull me off! I then whacked him a good one, still pointing with the other hand. I managed to mutter the words, "Bear!, Bear!" He then looked at me! me! not where I was pointing, but at me! I was still pointing and finally yelled," Big Bear over there!" He looked, he stopped the truck, he is kin to his insane sister, cause he got out and started to chase after the bear!. I of course sat in the truck, got out the cell phone, punched in 911, and held my finger over the send button, while he was crashing around in the woods after the bear!  Then I realized I was sitting in the middle of the road  at the end of a blind curve. I thought to myself, this is wonderful, I get hit by a haytruck and he gets eaten by the bear, and no one will know to push the send button! I should have stayed home and typed and smiled!

He eventually came out of the woods and was confused, because I had moved the truck to a better place to park, and came running up to the drivers door, all flushed and sweating. " That is one big bear!" he chriped. "I found a pawprint and it is at least 6 inches around and 7 inches long and the claws add another 3 inches!"

I smiled, I patted the drivers seat and said calmly, "Homer, please get in the truck and let's go, or I am going to hit you in the face with gravel as I peal out of here." smile, just smile, deep breaths, and smile. ohmmmmmm!

We went to our favorite pond and proceeded to fish. Homer could not settle down, and kept looking around, kind of like a revolving door, hoping to see the bear. I on the other hand, with the adrenaline rush over, was nodding off in my customized fishing chair. I heard him rustling around in the ice chest making a sandwich, chasing bears must be hungry work!

I must have completely went to sleep, the next thing I know, I am being dumped from my chair, and dragged forcefully, and at a high rate of speed, away from the truck! Homer had me by the arm and was dragging me, as fast as he could get me away from the truck, and I was stumbling along and finally found my voice enough to gasp out, " What the hell, are you doing!"

It was his turn to point. He pointed back at the truck, I looked, big bear was eating the loaf of bread! I grabbed him by the arm and passed him, dragging him now! OMG! Big bear was eating my baloney sandwich stuff out of the back of the paintless, nonbackfiring, Nissan! !

Apparently Homer had not put the loaf of bread back into the ice chest after he made his sandwich. I was asleep and very quiet, and Homer was off over the side of the pond bank, answering natures call, when Big Bear decided he could smell something delicious in the truck. And since insane sister of Homer had been giving out free dog food, and table scraps from her house, it was in complete confidence of humans to come on over and make itself at home!

We went to Homers mothers on foot. We went back to get the truck with his whole entire family in the back of Homers mom' s truck. Armed with enough firepower to bring down an army of Big Bears. But, Big Bear was not there, he had left enough evidence of his visit that they believed us. This was war!

We called the forestry dept. of fish and game commission and they are now in the act of trapping and removing said Big Bear, Willie, and their other family members. whew! Hugs and big kisses to all those game and fish workers, who are ridding my fishing hole of evil Big Black Bears!!!!!! I applaude the men in camoflage, who not only write no fishing license tickets, but remove baloney sandwich eating bears, and restore the calm tranquility of the woods! Separation of critter and human has once more been established on my Ridge, in the community of Locke!

That is just another day in the life of lockerridge, big game runner fromer!

lockerridge

NOV.5, 2006 THE ONLY PHOTO IN EXISTENCE OF PD'S SHORT BALLERINA CAREER!

FINALLY FOUND THE ONLY PHOTO IN EXISTENCE OF MY FRIEND PD, WHEN HE WAS AT THE HIGH POINT OF HIS DANCING CAREER, BEFORE HE BECAME A FIRE SYSTEM SPECIALIST!  IT TOOK HOURS OF SEARCHING THE NET,  BUT I THINK YOU WILL AGREE WITH ME, HE IS A REALLY GOOD LOOKING BALLERINA! (and if you believe that one, I have a beach house on the ocean in Arizona for sale)   YOU MAY COPY THIS PHOTO AND DISPLAY IT ANYWHERE ON THE 360 YOU WANT, AS IT IS THE ONLY ONE IN THE WORLD AND NEEDS TO BE SAVED FOR THE FUTURE BALLERINAS OF THE WORLD. IT WILL BE AN INSPIRATION TO THOUSANDS!
(AN INSPIRATION TO BE BECOME A BUS DRIVER OR MAIL CARRIER PERHAPS, BUT WE NEED MORE BUS DRIVERS AND MAIL CARRIERS.)

Aw heck Pd, you knew I had to do something, and this photo was just too tempting to not zap ya with it! I still love ya! hehehehehe!

 lockerridge

NOV. 1, 2006 THIS IS A VERY SPECIAL DAY! 23 YEARS AGO TODAY, I GAVE BIRTH TO A BABY BOY

 November 1, 1983  at 2:35p.m. my son came into my life and breathed his first breath of air, I took my first breath of air as a mother. And I learned that I had already made his aquaintance 9 months earlier than anyone else in the world will ever know him. He was a part of me. And he will always be a part of me. This blog today is not going to be humorous. It is going to be my way of letting him know how very much I love him, how proud I am to have a son such as he is. He is my best friend in this whole crazy world of broken dreams, and lost loves. He and I have been through a lot of hard to handle times.

The year before he was born, I gave birth to a stillborn baby girl. So yes,he was wanted by me, like I want air to breath.I love him with all that I have to give, nd all that I am. I will do anything for him short of murder, and if someone hurt him, that might be a possiblity too. We are very much alike in a lot of ways, our love of learning new things, new gadgets, new people, new places. If you wonder what I look like, look at the above photo and you will get a pretty good idea. His baby photos look astoundingly like mine. He is also stubborn like me and moody at times. But we get along like peanut butter and jelly on bread. We love the same food, except he is very much in tune with oriental type foods, and I can't even stand to be in the same room when they are being prepared.

We have faced the death of his half brother when he was 12, which sent his Dad into a depression he never recovered from. When we found out his Dad had congestive heart failure, we were there to support him. When his Dad became abusive to me, a short while later, he was my support. When his Dad passed away when he was 15, he was the only reason I put my feet on the floor every morning. He was my parent for a while. I was not in very good shape and had began a slide into depression that had me sleeping around 15 to 16 hours a day and not eating.

This is the story of what he did that pulled me out of the hole I was losing my life to.

He came to the bedroom door, and asked if he could bake some chocolate chip cookies. I mumbled something I don't remember what, and went back to sleep. Around 2 hours later, I heard him knock again, and I rudely yelled what is it now?

He opened the door and in his hands were a plate of 4 huge chocolate chip cookies and a glass of milk. They were burned on the edges and raw in the middle. The look of utter joy at his accomplishment was enough to make me sit up and smile. I waved him into the room and we sat on my bed with our backs to the wall and ate the cookies and drank the milk. And we talked. I forced myself to not break down and cry this time and end the converstion as had been the norm for a few months. We fell asleep there and when I woke up he was gone. But I heard him in the kitchen on the phone with my mother. And he was crying with relief that I had eaten the cookies. I did not realize I had not eaten anything in 3 days. They were going to have to force me into the hospital if something did not happen that next day. I have never allowed myself to be that weak ever again.

Even when I was taking my Dad for chemotherapy for a lung tumor that was not going to go away, even when I had to tell him and my mom that the hospital had called me and Dad was gone, making the arrangements, and the funeral.

Then last year on Nov. 14, 2005 after sitting in the ICU day and night for 4 days we sat together and watched as my mother, his grandmother,as that beautiful woman left our lives,and went to be with her beloved. He was with me through all of the arrangements and the funeral, and all of the people who flooded our home afterward. He stood with me and I could be strong.

He is MY SON.  He is MY LIFE. He is the REASON I LIVE. He is GOD'S GIFT TO MY LIFE.

And today he is 23 years old, enrolled in college to become a microbiological engineer. He is living on his own, by himself, strong, and self sufficent to a certain point. He still loves my Maytags, and how I make his shirts smell when He cons me into doing his laundry every week.

Thankyou God for the gift you gave to women when you gave us the ability to give the world the future.

lockerridge



                                       

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lockerridge

OCT.28,2006 THE WEEK THE BOSS WENT ON VACATION

  In case I haven't told you guys what Homer does for a living, he is a heavy machine operator ( you know the ones, The Big Tonka Toys)  for a company that builds everything from Arbys to laying water lines for the water company. He operates the stuff that has tires and tracks taller than he is! And if I say so myself, the dude is really good at it. He has been with this same company now for a long time and has worked his way up in the ranks. He is now the guy his boss tells everyone to ask how to do stuff while he goes fishing. Homer is just good natured enough to take on the responsiblity without screaming for a raise. Or is that just not paying too close attention, instead of good natured? Humm have to look that up in the webster. hehe

No, he is just a good guy. Lets people take advantage of him sometimes,  but he is still my Homey and I would not trade him for lets say, a dollar and a quarter, by any means. Now, if you offered me Keith Urban, it would be no contest, but I hear Keith is out of the running, sigh! love that guys music and ooooeeeee he is pretty too! ( sorry, got this thing about Keith Urban, could you tell? hehe) But this story is about the week his boss went on vacation and left Homer in charge of the crew, with a major pad to be made in the middle of the,( I compare it to the Amazon) woods. Homer and he took 4 wheelers the day before he left, and drove all over the site, with instructions given, and written down. It was a really nice warm sunshiny day, not a cloud in sight.

The minute his boss left, it got dark and it started to rain, 3 inches by morning. Homer cheerfully got up and took off in the service truck to ground zero. No one had told them that when it rained the middle of the place swamped out. Held water like the Hoover Dam! He had a pond with trees growing out of it, and a time table of 5 days to complete said job, or penalties began. umhum! What to do, what to do? He tried to call his boss, cell phone was out of service. He tried to call the people who were hiring the job done. No one was in the office. So what did Homer do? He called me.  

Not because I am a whiz at working with the big Tonka Toys like he is, but because he needed to tell somebody, and in doing so maybe work out the solution by telling it. Get it! I am his therapist. He drives me crazy doing this kind of thing, cause of course you know I can come up with a solution, even though I am dumb as a box of rocks about the subject. All women are this way, we never get to spit it out though, and that is why the insurance rates are so high, we go to the doctor a lot for valium. The wonder drug invented for married women with husbands named Homer, children with dedicated teachers, children who love to blow up things, and small white dogs who think they are godzilla. It is the truth, look it up in wikipedia, it is there. I wouldn't lie to you guys, nope not me! heheheehee

Any way after he jabbered at me for a while, I broke in and said, "Do you have the entire crew standing around doing nothing, except looking at you kind of crosseyed?" He replied, " Why do you ask?"

heheheehee You know and I know they were all standing around looking crosseyed, but he would never admit it. I didn't say anything except, "Hey, why couldn't ya'll push down the trees on the outside of the swamp? It should be easy to do with the ground so swampy." I thought it brilliant, Homer thought he might give it a try, I should have let the answering machine pick up  and take his call instead of answering in the first place.

 ( see photo above, this is not an actual photo of the dozer, this is a backhoe that I found somewhere to give you an idea of the glop they were working in) It were a disaster people, pure and simple disaster. He got out there on the big bulldozer, and started pushing down trees, it was going well, so he yelled at the other dozer driver to hop to it. He did, he was not as good as Homer, and though Homer told him where to not go, he went anyway. Sunk up to the cab of the dozer. Homer cussed. Homer cried. Homer was upset! He called me again, after he sent the rest of the crew to get the big track hoe to pull him out. It was going to take his dozer plus the track hoe to get him out of the swamp from hell. He didn't say much of anything, except your idea was not a very workable plan, honey. Make me a nice lunch will ya, and I am coming home to eat it. By the way could you please lay out some clean clothes for me and maybe run a tub of water. I might be a little muddy. ( OMG!)

Sometimes I feel like those women in the Tide commercials, who have the kids who deliberately run through the mud puddles, leak ice cream down their fronts, and have dogs who just love the kids so much they knock them down and muddy them all over while the kids laugh hysterically. If I let Homers clothes dry out good, I could stand them into the corner and they would not fall down! Looks like a scarecrow, with a horsebitten hat for a head! hehe This was just such a day.

 I fixed a decent lunch, and he came roaring into the driveway, with the fenders of the truck invisible, behind the red clay all over the sides of the truck. I hid my eyes. I peeked at Homer. Should have just gone, and stayed the day gopher hunting or something. You could not tell he was a made of flesh man. He looked like something out of the movie " The Black Lagoon". To make this shorter. If I had put him into a kiln, he could have been used as a fountain statue! A red clay fountain statue.

He stopped at the back door and asked about the tub of water. I said, "After we take the hose to you okay?"  He went for it ! Well, after the morning he had, I suppose the water hose wash down was not all that bad of a thing. hehehe. Poor baby!

They had managed to pull the dozer out, but the fellow driving it had not shut it off immediately upon sinking. This is a bad thing people. Water and diesel engines do not mix. let alone water, and mud, and diesel engines. He said, "I sent everyone home, I am doing nothing else until I get a hold of my boss, and if he does not like it, well I guess, you will have to go get a job when I get fired."   But, But, But, but, umm, well, okay. sigh

Boss man called Homer that night ,and after the story was told, his boss laughed. Yeah, he laughed. The man knows how it goes, you know. He had left him in charge, he had given him instruction, timetable, and then turned off his phone. He called the people who had hired them and explained about the Hoover Dam swamp thing that was happpening, and got them an extension. I didn't ask him about the dozer, and it being kind of gunked up on the inside as well as the outside, I think I will just let that one lay where it got dropped! 

um hummm, I hummmed as I used 3 bottles of Spray and Wash, and washed his clothes 5 times, washing the washer out inbetween washings.sigh! It is just another day of life, if your  partner operates The Big Tonka Toys.

hehehehehe

lockerridge

Entry for October 26, 2006 THE FARMER GOES TO THE MOVIES

The Farmer

AN OLD FARMER WALKED UP TO THE MOVIE THEATRE

TICKET   COUNTER AND ASKED TO BUY A TICKET.



THE  TICKET AGENT ASKED, "SIR, WHAT'S THAT ON YOUR 

SHOULDER?"



THE OLD FARMER SAID, "THAT'S MY PET  ROOSTER CHUCK.

WHEREVER I GO,  CHUCK GOES."



"I'M SORRY SIR," SAID THE  TICKET AGENT. "WE CAN'T 

ALLOW ANIMALS IN  THE THEATER."



THE OLD FARMER WENT AROUND  THE CORNER AND STUFFED 

THE BIRD DOWN HIS OVERALLS. HE RE-TURNED TO  THE BOOTH, BOUGHT A

TICKET AND  ENTERED  THE THEATER.



HE SAT DOWN NEXT TO TWO OLD  WIDOWS NAMED  MILDRED 

AND MARGE.  THE MOVIE STARTED AND  THE ROOSTER  BEGAN TO SQUIRM. THE OLD

FARMER UNBUTTONED HIS FLY, SO  CHUCKY COULD STICK  HIS HEAD OUT AND WATCH

THE  MOVIE.



"MARGE," WHISPERED  MILDRED.



"WHAT?" SAID  MARGE.



"I THINK THE GUY NEXT TO ME IS A  PER VERT."



"WHAT MAKES YOU THINK SO?" ASKED  MARGE.



"HE UNDID HIS PANTS AND HE HAS HIS  "you know"  OUT," 

WHISPERED MILDRED.



"WELL, DON'T WORRY  ABOUT IT,"SAID MARGE.  "HELL,

AT OUR AGE WE'VE SEEN 'EM  ALL"



"I THOUGHT SO TOO," SAID MILDRED, "BUT THIS  ONE'S 

EATIN' MY POPCORN!"

I love it!

lockerridge

OCT.27,2006 GOING FISHING WITH HOMER

The above photo is not really exactly like going fishing with Homer. He has the theory of needing at least 3 lines in the water simulataneously thing going, but the fish is quite a bit bigger than what he usually catches. But to hear him tell it, this is a baby perch in comparison to his usual take home from the local pond.

We go fishing a lot. I mean a lot. I like it, I am not crazy about eating the things, but man do I love the excitment of the catch. I have always gone fishing, from the time I could hold a pole in my hands, my Mom and Dad took me. I am not squimish about putting worms on my hook, or liver, or cheetos, or what ever is getting bites. I am patient, I can sit and be quiet for an hour if I have a fish playing with my bait. The big fish play with your bait for a long time. That is the reason they are big ole fish. Most people will give it up after 5 minutes or so, not locke, I can out wait 'em. That is the secret you know of catching big fish. But Homer does not believe me. He thinks you need at least 3 poles, and that many different types of bait. One pole has a bobber on the line. One pole has a bell on it. And the other one he puts into the fork of a limb he cuts and sticks in the ground. This is fine as long as he will stay with it, but you see his attention span is about as long as my eyelashes, and he invariably spends most of his time retreiving his lures, which are on the 4th pole, that he is using to troll for bass. hehe

You noticed I said retrieving lures didn't you, not taking fish from a hook, that he has caught with the lures. He has every lure on the Walmart shelf. A fun vacation for him to go to the Bass Pro Shop in Missouri. He has a credit card just to buy lures with. I am not looking forward to the days when we are having to fish to eat, because of the bankruptcy proceedings, that will come from his lure buying obsessions. It was okay for a while, we worked at Pradco for a couple of years. I guess you want to know what Pradco is don't you?  It is a lure making plant in Arkansas. We made Rebel, Heddon, Smithwicke, Wigglos etc. until the plant was bought by a conglomerate and they closed all our little plants, and moved to Mexico. ( never buy anything from Pradco, they are evil.) He was in the packout dept., and his fingers got a little sticky some days.( remember the gopher obsession, and don't judge him to harshly, he probably needs medication!!)

Back to the fishing story, I am the one who is sitting in a chair which has a pole holder on one of the arms, a cup holder in the other, and umbrella over it, the sunblock attached to the chairleg, and my sweater over the back of the chair. My cigarette case is velcroed to the chair seat, it has my fishing license in it. My tackle box( yes I have my own with a lock on it) is under the chair and my bait and various other necessities, (uky rag to wipe my hands on) are within  reach. I have no watch, don't need it, I am not taking medicine, I am fishing.

Homer on the other hand never has a seat, he is always moving, and yelling at me,"Am I gettin a bite?" I always tell him yes, just to see him lose his grip. It is great, he starts reeling like crazy, yelling, "Grab my pole, I'll be there in a minute!"  You know I just sit there. He gets all foul at the mouth, and then he snags his lure on something. He is so riled up he has to break the line. He races over to the poles, grabbing first one, and then the other, and jerking with all his might, sending the bait and hook out of the water and into his face! I just smile and sit there, " must have got off huh?" I am evil, you don't have to tell me. He always falls for it, kind of like Charlie Brown and Lucy with the football.

Then fishing for the day is over as he tries to get the lures back he lost. He has done every thing from scuba diving to making bridges with whatever is handy, tree limbs, rocks, tires, tool boxes, he knows better than to try and get my chair, I bite.

And what is the greatest is when he is wadding  fishing. I would give a million bucks, if I had it , to have a cam corder that would not be ruined, if I dropped it in the water from laughing. He gets out there in his hip high rubber wadding boots, with his fishing hat on, you know the kind, it has at least 15 lures hooked to it, and casts into weeds and fallen trees, and of course gets hung up. Then instead of wadding over to the object he is hung up on he pulls it, thinking it will come loose. He never learns, it always breaks, and he is out there when the line comes back to him at warp 16 and wraps around him like a coccoon. Then he is just stuck. I don't know how many pocket knives have been lost due to dropping them in the water. We are yet to find one of the lost ones, the answer to this of course is, fish steal them. It just makes sense to me, how else do they get a way so much of the time. They have one of Homers knives and cut the line!  You know I had to make it his fault some how, didn't you? hehe

I usually out fish him, but never skunk him. He always manages to catch something if it is only a cold. I have seen him try to pass off one of the minnows we had for bait as a catch! Competetive sucker isn't he? hehe I caught a 6 lb. catfish the last time we went, Homer took it off the hook for me, and held onto the camera and tried his best to take a picture. It was midnight. I asked him when he started taking photos for the blind, he told me to shutup and get in the truck. We always throw the fish back we catch and he said he didn't want to see me cry when he turned Waldo back into the pond. Waldo is caught at least once a summer, and this is my summer!

I will back out of this blog with a saying that was on a license plate I got my Dad one year for Fathers Day.

                                 FISHERMANS   CODE

                          Early to bed and early to rise!

                                 Fish like hell!

                           And make up big lies!

                               heheheeeee!

lockerridge

OCT.23,2006 HOMEWORK IN THE 21ST CENTURY ! ? ! ?......

Hello everyone, I have had something come home to me recently from Homer Jr. He is a classmember of the group of elite males and females, in the long fought for class of seniors this year. He is also a member of a class with the impressive sounding name of Parenting for Responsible Young Adults. Hummm..... I am yet to be impressed, cause he is taking the class along with 17 other seniors who had to take the class so they could actually fill in their school day to get to the next class, of keyboarding. Yeah, a fluff class. But the teacher takes this very seriously. Very seriously! To the point of talking the school board into buying 3, not 1, but 3 of these 300 dollar "real babies". What ever happened to the smelly memographed sheets we used to get? They cost what? half a cent each? humm......
Any how, these baby dolls come in a variety of skin colors, and of course, both sexes. Homer Jr. got a girl baby with caucasian skin color. They are anatomaically correct as well as have the ability to scream bloody murder, drink a bottle and need a diaper change. They also will report if you handle them roughly, do not see to their immediate cry of distress, and they will go into the worst kind of hiccuping squall if they need to be burped. Yes, I said burped. They also make a cooing sound( sounds like Marilyn Monroe and her speech to Mr. President) and he has to record all of this in a little notebook. Every sound this kid of plastic and computer chips makes, he is supposed to record in this little book. He has a plastic bracelet with a magnetic key on it that is permanently, for 3 days, anyway, attached to his wrist. It is the only way to shut the thing up when it gets wound up, or so the little direction booklet tells you. And this lovely, dedicated, totally serious teacher is the one who programs the way the "real baby" is timed to do all this wonderous responsiblity inducing " stuff". ( I am excited, how about ya'll?)
After I found out this Dedicated Teacher is 25, single, and not a kiddie in sight, I was seriously considering moving in with the gophers for 3 days! I didn't, but oh my, at 3:30 in the morning being awakened by a 17 year old male who is almost crying, and the thing from the Chuckie factory is in full wailing mode, a nicely placed phone call at that time in the morning to Ms. Dedicated teacher, did cross my mind, but Homer Jr. begged me to just make the thing shut up, and not get himself on the, no Christmas Card list, of his teacher. What are you going to do? Yeah, you guys know I didn't do it, but man oh man would it have felt so wonderful! sigh, I am a wuss.
I got to tell you, I never in my whole entire time of being a parent, had a child act like this thing did! I mean it would not even change pitch of the crying jag it was on. It was just a constant, and never changing scream! Lord have mercy, I did everything I knew a real baby would respond to, even if it was a hiccuping kind of scream instead of this banshee from hell, kind of mind scrambling thing, we had going on. I know I should not have done it, but I got a screwdriver and took the plate off the battery holder and took the batteries out of the thing! Well a Mom's gotta do what a Mom's gotta do, ya know!
HomerJr., poor guy, was grateful, but also apprehensive about what his teacher would think, and what kind of grade he would get because of the interference of his parent on his responsibility homework. I told him if she gave him any crap to call me, and I would be glad to have a talk with her, and the principal, or the superintendant, and I am best friends with the president of the school board! Why not, go for the big guns, ya know?
We put the batteries back in cautiously, hoping for a change in mood after about 15 minutes. And the *************ing thing cooed at us! We wrote it in the notebook. We didn't do anything, honest. At least that is our story and we are sticking to it.
He had to work the next day, and he figured out how to take the magnet part off the bracelet and so, yeah you guessed it, I had to babysit. OMG! I put it on the bed and went about doing the laundry folding, while it watched me from its little never shutting eyes, that follow you wherever you go in the room. This thing is so spooky people, I kept my screwdriver in my back pocket, for emergencies and stuff, you know! ( No wonder I am half insane most of the time, Homer is still gopher hunting at odd times of the night, my dog, well is my dog, and now the chuckie clone is living in my house!)type and smile, type and smile!
I made it till just about an hour before Homer Jr. was to be home, ( poor guy, he called to see how his baby was doing, since she had a bad night the night before!)and the thing wanted to get a bottle. It is okay, but it makes these little," gunk, gunk" sounds, and then it coos every minute or so....... and you have to document what sound and the time it makes it, in the little notebook. Sheesh, the thing drank and cooed for 30 minutes! For real, I am not lying people, 30 minutes, and then it wanted to be burped. But it would not burp. I walked around for another 30 minutes bouncing it on my shoulder, patting gently on its back, every time I quit the massive earsplitting squall resumed. Now remember I had to also write all this down in the book. Grew that third hand, yes I did, and his name was Homer. I told him to get in there and tend to his grandchild! And he did!!! Wow!
He named her Homerellen, and even though he tried all his fatherly tricks, the thing still was not cooperating. I went to check on the gophers for a while..... I left him my screwdriver.
Poor Homer Jr. came home and took over. I was still hearing them at 2 am. I finally got up and gave him the screwdriver, he said thanks, and I left the room, silence reigned once again in about 3 minutes, until I heard Homer Jr. snoring.
All in all, he got a 92 on his homework, and the teacher did not even get an inkling that the batteries had been removed. I really regret not getting a recording of the banshee scream. I might need to help another parent in a assault and battery charge pressed by The Dedicated Teacher! Hey, I am always there for a fellow tortured parent if needed, don't cha know! hehehe
We did everything any responsible parent of a honest to goodness real fake baby would do, and did nothing to cheat at all. That is our story anyway, and we are sticking to it!
hehehehehee
lockerridge

OCT.22,2006 THE DAY JUST CAN'T GET ANY WORSE.....OH, YEAH?....SIGH.....

THEN IT IS JUST TERRIBLE..... AND THEN SIMPLY AWFUL!...... AND THEN HELP IS ON THE WAY!...OR IS IT? THIS LOOKS LIKE IT WILL WORK!....BUT.... JUST WHEN THE DAY LOOKS LIKE IT MIGHT BE SAVED.... SIGH! IT JUST LOOKS LIKE THIS LITTLE WHITE CAR, OR MAYBE THE CAR FROM THE INSURANCE COMPANIES WORST NIGHTMARE, JUST HAD TO MAKE A SPLASH!......HEHEHEHEE Poor people! I am sure glad they don't know about Homer and I, they would close up shop and leave the country immediately!

 lockerridge