I am working on a post that features the sort of deviousness that is even worse than the deviousness involved in labeling Cream Cheese Bars "Green Bean Casserole" in order to keep them from being eaten.
We're talking about a majorly unbelievable, world class, edgy, breakin' all the rules kind of deviousness. That I was a part of! Quite a happy part of, might I add.
But I'm not writing about that right now because that particular post is not yet ready. (It takes quite a while to put deviousness into words.)
In the meantime, I'm going to write in response to a question Jodi asked about the story behind Nathan's "wig picture" in yesterday's post. Actually most of the "wig story" happened before that particular picture was taken; I shot that photo at the dinner table after we were telling some dinner guests about the earlier story. They requested to see the wig from the story so Nathan put it on and (momentarily) acted like a caveman so I could get a picture. (He's such a charmer.)
But since the question was asked about the picture, I am going to go ahead and post the whole story behind the wig. (This was posted the first time in July 2008 on Sarah's Site)
NATHAN, THE WIG, AND THE POLICE CAR
I have a story. A story about Nathan.
A story about Nathan, a wig, and a police car.
But first a little background. Nathan's friend, David has been staying with us for a week and they were in Nate's room one day while I was cleaning out a closet down the hall. When I happened upon a wig that Sarah had bought several years ago for playing dress up, my first thought was to toss it out. But then I thought, “You know, it would be really fun to put this on and go scare Nathan and David.”
Take a very careful look at this picture and see if you don’t think YOU would be thoroughly frightened if I unexpectedly flung open your door and stuck my head into YOUR room!
The looks on their faces were utterly and absolutely priceless. I NEVER thought I would be able to scare two teen-age guys, but I accomplished that feat with copious quantities of verve, vim, vigor and panache. Their mouths opened wide and their eyes opened even wider; in fact, it took a full ten seconds for them to re-close the aforementioned mouths and return to their usual “cool guy” attitudes. But they were really and truly alarmed—it was absolutely great. (I still find myself chuckling about it whenever I think about the looks on their faces.)
Well, after they had fully recovered from their mom-induced mini heart attacks, they decided that THEY needed to take turns modeling the wig. And so they did.
After a few minutes of horsing around, they got the idea of walking up the street to the home of one of the girls in our youth group. (With Nathan wearing the wig and sunglasses and David wearing a hat and sunglasses) I happened to know that her family was on vacation but I certainly didn’t want to rob the boys of an adventure so I let them go.
Leaving the house
Sarah and I plopped ourselves down on the steps in our entryway because we wanted to be nearby when they arrived back at the house; we didn't want to miss even one moment of hearing how their wacky “wig walk” went.
As we were sitting there in companionable mother-daughterness, I remarked to Sarah, “Wouldn’t it be funny if someone saw Nathan and David walking in the neighborhood and called the police on them?”
She replied, “Yeah, Mom, that would be pretty funny.”
We sat for another moment or two, chortling over that highly unlikely prospect. Well, at least we chortled until we glanced out the window and saw a police car turn into our quiet neighborhood and head in the direction Nathan and David had gone!
I sort of panicked. I sort of wished rather fervently that my husband was home.
He wasn’t.
He had left the house just five minutes earlier. I couldn’t send him down the street to sort things out. I couldn’t send Sarah. I certainly couldn’t send Snowy! As it turned out, I was the only sendable person available.
I threw some sandals on my feet and took off in a state of great discombobulation. And may I also point out that while I was hurtling frantically down the street, my hair was completely askew (from a recent nap) and my make up (applied hours earlier) was completely gone. Not only was I looking rather uninspiring, I was probably scarier looking than Nathan was in the wig!
While I was trying to find the guys, I walked by a particular house and saw a few people standing around by the curb and talking. I overheard one of them mention “a man with long, brown hair.”
Yikes. That sounded suspiciously like Nathan. I was briefly tempted to just play dumb and walk on by them (long hair? what long hair?) but I stopped, introduced myself and tried to find out what was being said about the aforementioned “man.”
They told me that some little boys passing by had just told them that a man with long brown wig and his friend tried to get into one of the cars in front of our house.
And hence the call to the police department.
I thought, “Oh great. Nathan (wearing an alarming wig) and David are currently sashaying through our neighborhood being stalked by a police officer. And David is in our care for the week and his dad is a pastor and how is it going to sound for us to call him in New York and say, ‘Uh. Hello? Would you like to make a pastoral visit to your son? In jail? And would you like to visit OUR son too, while you’re at it?’”
By this point I was starting to perspire (er, glisten) because although I knew that Nathan would never try to break into someone’s car, this family had the little boys’ report that it was “the man with the long brown hair” who had tried to do it.
In the meantime, I couldn’t see Nathan, David or the police car in any direction and I was having wild visions of them having already been hauled away and removed from the neighborhood.
I stood chatting with the neighbor lady who had called the police (along with another neighbor who also happens to be a member of our church) while she apologized left and right for having called the police. I assured her that she had done the right thing and it wasn’t a problem.
As I was talking with her, I thought to myself that I was surely not the most inspiring person to converse with, with my hair sticking up everywhere, beads of sweat adorning my yucky-without-makeup face, and my “official frantic mother” look firmly in place.
And the more time that went by, the more frantic and stressed I was feeling. Finally, in the middle of our conversation, I glanced down the street and who did I see striding in our direction but Nathan and David! (Thankfully, there was no police car in sight!) I gestured for them to come over to our side of the road, asked Nathan to PLEASE remove the wig (It’s hard to have a serious conversation with someone who looks like Ozzy Osborne) and then in my sternest mother voice, I asked if either one of them had tried to get into this lady’s car as they walked by earlier.
They both vehemently denied it; however, David did say that as they walked by, he had leaned over to adjust his hat and sunglasses in the side mirror of the car. Obviously, the little boys just saw the “man who was with the man in the long brown wig” lean over toward the car and assumed they were trying to break in.
Sigh.
We finally said our good byes to the neighbor lady and our (wonderfully patient and understanding) church member. As I was escorting my two young hooligans home, I asked them if they had been stopped by the police. Nathan said, “Well, yes, a police car did pull up to us and the officer asked our names. I gave him my name and told him I lived here in the neighborhood and gave him our address.”
Then he added, “He also asked me my date of birth but I was so rattled, I couldn’t even remember it!”
Fortunately, Nathan had the presence of mind to remove the wig while talking to the officer; it would have been a bit much to have been interrogated while wearing a wig!
At any rate, by the time we all finally arrived back at the house, Sarah had gotten quite anxious. She was traumatized at the thought of her mom, her brother and her brother’s friend out there in the neighborhood being followed by a police car! And when we didn’t come home for such a long time, she was thinking that the guys had been hauled off to jail. She was, understandably, pretty upset.
After the boys had headed back up to Nathan’s room, Sarah and I sat side by side on the steps again and tried to calm our frazzled nerves. She rubbed my back and said, “Wow, Mom. I bet that was really stressful for you.”
Yeah, it was a bit stressful but it was kind of funny too. In a stressful sort of way.
When Sarah and I were finally able to peel our traumatized selves off the steps, we went into the kitchen to fortify our trembling nerves with brownies.
Ah. An excuse to eat chocolate. The whole experience was well worth it.
And just so you know?
This is how I look when I DON’T get my chocolate. Don't ever forget it.
As if you ever could.
_________________
Okay, now if you've recovered from seeing the scary be-wigged Smiths, I have a few more things to cover.
1. In the next few days, there will be a small adjustment made to the layout of Smithellaneous to create more space for my writing and pictures. I've kind of been feeling a bit "stifled with the small middle column and I think you'll really love the change!
2. I just want to make sure that Lesley saw the several birthday wishes coming her way in the comments section. If not, go back and take a look!
3. A new discussion about blogging has been started by Trine over at The Backyard Fence. And there are still some recipes being shared over there. So stop on by!
We're talking about a majorly unbelievable, world class, edgy, breakin' all the rules kind of deviousness. That I was a part of! Quite a happy part of, might I add.
But I'm not writing about that right now because that particular post is not yet ready. (It takes quite a while to put deviousness into words.)
In the meantime, I'm going to write in response to a question Jodi asked about the story behind Nathan's "wig picture" in yesterday's post. Actually most of the "wig story" happened before that particular picture was taken; I shot that photo at the dinner table after we were telling some dinner guests about the earlier story. They requested to see the wig from the story so Nathan put it on and (momentarily) acted like a caveman so I could get a picture. (He's such a charmer.)
But since the question was asked about the picture, I am going to go ahead and post the whole story behind the wig. (This was posted the first time in July 2008 on Sarah's Site)
NATHAN, THE WIG, AND THE POLICE CAR
I have a story. A story about Nathan.
A story about Nathan, a wig, and a police car.
But first a little background. Nathan's friend, David has been staying with us for a week and they were in Nate's room one day while I was cleaning out a closet down the hall. When I happened upon a wig that Sarah had bought several years ago for playing dress up, my first thought was to toss it out. But then I thought, “You know, it would be really fun to put this on and go scare Nathan and David.”
Take a very careful look at this picture and see if you don’t think YOU would be thoroughly frightened if I unexpectedly flung open your door and stuck my head into YOUR room!
The looks on their faces were utterly and absolutely priceless. I NEVER thought I would be able to scare two teen-age guys, but I accomplished that feat with copious quantities of verve, vim, vigor and panache. Their mouths opened wide and their eyes opened even wider; in fact, it took a full ten seconds for them to re-close the aforementioned mouths and return to their usual “cool guy” attitudes. But they were really and truly alarmed—it was absolutely great. (I still find myself chuckling about it whenever I think about the looks on their faces.)
Well, after they had fully recovered from their mom-induced mini heart attacks, they decided that THEY needed to take turns modeling the wig. And so they did.
After a few minutes of horsing around, they got the idea of walking up the street to the home of one of the girls in our youth group. (With Nathan wearing the wig and sunglasses and David wearing a hat and sunglasses) I happened to know that her family was on vacation but I certainly didn’t want to rob the boys of an adventure so I let them go.
Leaving the house
Sarah and I plopped ourselves down on the steps in our entryway because we wanted to be nearby when they arrived back at the house; we didn't want to miss even one moment of hearing how their wacky “wig walk” went.
As we were sitting there in companionable mother-daughterness, I remarked to Sarah, “Wouldn’t it be funny if someone saw Nathan and David walking in the neighborhood and called the police on them?”
She replied, “Yeah, Mom, that would be pretty funny.”
We sat for another moment or two, chortling over that highly unlikely prospect. Well, at least we chortled until we glanced out the window and saw a police car turn into our quiet neighborhood and head in the direction Nathan and David had gone!
I sort of panicked. I sort of wished rather fervently that my husband was home.
He wasn’t.
He had left the house just five minutes earlier. I couldn’t send him down the street to sort things out. I couldn’t send Sarah. I certainly couldn’t send Snowy! As it turned out, I was the only sendable person available.
I threw some sandals on my feet and took off in a state of great discombobulation. And may I also point out that while I was hurtling frantically down the street, my hair was completely askew (from a recent nap) and my make up (applied hours earlier) was completely gone. Not only was I looking rather uninspiring, I was probably scarier looking than Nathan was in the wig!
While I was trying to find the guys, I walked by a particular house and saw a few people standing around by the curb and talking. I overheard one of them mention “a man with long, brown hair.”
Yikes. That sounded suspiciously like Nathan. I was briefly tempted to just play dumb and walk on by them (long hair? what long hair?) but I stopped, introduced myself and tried to find out what was being said about the aforementioned “man.”
They told me that some little boys passing by had just told them that a man with long brown wig and his friend tried to get into one of the cars in front of our house.
And hence the call to the police department.
I thought, “Oh great. Nathan (wearing an alarming wig) and David are currently sashaying through our neighborhood being stalked by a police officer. And David is in our care for the week and his dad is a pastor and how is it going to sound for us to call him in New York and say, ‘Uh. Hello? Would you like to make a pastoral visit to your son? In jail? And would you like to visit OUR son too, while you’re at it?’”
By this point I was starting to perspire (er, glisten) because although I knew that Nathan would never try to break into someone’s car, this family had the little boys’ report that it was “the man with the long brown hair” who had tried to do it.
In the meantime, I couldn’t see Nathan, David or the police car in any direction and I was having wild visions of them having already been hauled away and removed from the neighborhood.
I stood chatting with the neighbor lady who had called the police (along with another neighbor who also happens to be a member of our church) while she apologized left and right for having called the police. I assured her that she had done the right thing and it wasn’t a problem.
As I was talking with her, I thought to myself that I was surely not the most inspiring person to converse with, with my hair sticking up everywhere, beads of sweat adorning my yucky-without-makeup face, and my “official frantic mother” look firmly in place.
And the more time that went by, the more frantic and stressed I was feeling. Finally, in the middle of our conversation, I glanced down the street and who did I see striding in our direction but Nathan and David! (Thankfully, there was no police car in sight!) I gestured for them to come over to our side of the road, asked Nathan to PLEASE remove the wig (It’s hard to have a serious conversation with someone who looks like Ozzy Osborne) and then in my sternest mother voice, I asked if either one of them had tried to get into this lady’s car as they walked by earlier.
They both vehemently denied it; however, David did say that as they walked by, he had leaned over to adjust his hat and sunglasses in the side mirror of the car. Obviously, the little boys just saw the “man who was with the man in the long brown wig” lean over toward the car and assumed they were trying to break in.
Sigh.
We finally said our good byes to the neighbor lady and our (wonderfully patient and understanding) church member. As I was escorting my two young hooligans home, I asked them if they had been stopped by the police. Nathan said, “Well, yes, a police car did pull up to us and the officer asked our names. I gave him my name and told him I lived here in the neighborhood and gave him our address.”
Then he added, “He also asked me my date of birth but I was so rattled, I couldn’t even remember it!”
Fortunately, Nathan had the presence of mind to remove the wig while talking to the officer; it would have been a bit much to have been interrogated while wearing a wig!
At any rate, by the time we all finally arrived back at the house, Sarah had gotten quite anxious. She was traumatized at the thought of her mom, her brother and her brother’s friend out there in the neighborhood being followed by a police car! And when we didn’t come home for such a long time, she was thinking that the guys had been hauled off to jail. She was, understandably, pretty upset.
After the boys had headed back up to Nathan’s room, Sarah and I sat side by side on the steps again and tried to calm our frazzled nerves. She rubbed my back and said, “Wow, Mom. I bet that was really stressful for you.”
Yeah, it was a bit stressful but it was kind of funny too. In a stressful sort of way.
When Sarah and I were finally able to peel our traumatized selves off the steps, we went into the kitchen to fortify our trembling nerves with brownies.
Ah. An excuse to eat chocolate. The whole experience was well worth it.
And just so you know?
This is how I look when I DON’T get my chocolate. Don't ever forget it.
As if you ever could.
_________________
Okay, now if you've recovered from seeing the scary be-wigged Smiths, I have a few more things to cover.
1. In the next few days, there will be a small adjustment made to the layout of Smithellaneous to create more space for my writing and pictures. I've kind of been feeling a bit "stifled with the small middle column and I think you'll really love the change!
2. I just want to make sure that Lesley saw the several birthday wishes coming her way in the comments section. If not, go back and take a look!
3. A new discussion about blogging has been started by Trine over at The Backyard Fence. And there are still some recipes being shared over there. So stop on by!
Posts
2 Had Something To Say (Just click here!):
Hey Becky.
I knew the stoy-----thought the newbies would be wondering about Nathan and the wig (and the fact it was not October). Though I can't wait to read it again.
Jodi
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