I'm Pretty Sure This Means He'll End Up In Jail Someday. Or I Will.

It was a brown marker. It was just a simple brown marker, the color of the last of the fall leaves, but I thought it was a sign. That marker along with the little note that I found hidden in my desk had to mean something.

They had to mean that Clint liked me back.

He was my first crush. Just a stupid little second grade crush. It was the kind of crush that means nothing and goes nowhere and we moved at the end of the school year anyway, so really, it didn't matter.

Why I remember that brown marker and that note (It said "Hi." SO SCANDALOUS.), I don't know. I can't remember to buy spinach when I go to the grocery store, but I can perfectly picture that stupid brown marker. You know, the marker that so obviously meant he liked me back.

Years later, word travelled around that Clint had managed to land himself in jail before he managed to graduate from high school. I would consider him a victim of circumstances, but we grew up battling very similar circumstances, so I suppose there is some choice and some luck in there.

Regardless, my first crush was in the second grade. It was all about Clint, the future car thief.

I had really outstanding taste in boys when I was a kid.

************************************************************************

Alexis is officially head over heels silly for a boy for the first time. She's always in a hurry to grow up, so it's not really a surprise that she couldn't even make it to kindergarten before she turned into a gushy little twinkle-eyed ball of mush.

She spends hours looking at pictures of the boy. She talks about him constantly. She even made a video using my phone which she dedicated to him.

It's nauseating. Like, really, really nauseating.

The lowest moment of her crush so far came late last week when she said, "I wish he'd break up with Selena so he can be my boyfriend." I told her that wasn't exactly a nice thing to say, but she didn't care. She likes the boy.

OF COURSE her first crush is on Justin Bieber. OF COURSE. She's completely smitten with him, or at least she's completely smitten with the image of him that she has created in her mind.

That thing where I had really bad taste in boys when I was a kid? It's apparently hereditary.

 

I Just Hope It Isn't Too Painful When It Happens

I love flirting with disaster, so I'm going to just go ahead and admit that Alexis has been in a really good place lately. She's been polite and kind and listening well and . . . she's in bed sound asleep right now, but I probably just gave her reason to dream about burning the house down. Better lock up the matches, just in case.

I'll just sleep with one eye open tonight. No big deal.

So, she's been really pretty amazing lately. Except. EXCEPT. I don't know why it all started, but recently she has made trying to scare the crap out of people her job. As in, be careful what doors you open in our house because there's probably a 5-year old waiting behind that door just waiting to jump out and scream "BOO!" in your face.

Don't worry, though, you'll hear her Giggly Warning System go off before you actually open the door. Before that, you'll hear her elephant feet tromp across the room. Before that, you'll hear her laugh maniacally and yell, "DON'T LOOK AT ME!" It's not like you don't have adequate time to figure out that you're being set up.

Obviously, I don't react AT ALL when she jumps out in my face. I usually say, "Hi, Alexis" a half second before she screams like a deranged ghost. Making it obvious that there was no surprise does nothing to suck the wind out of her sails. She still thinks she's the funniest thing since somebody referred to Paris Hilton as a "writer." Whatever. She's happy.

But HOLY SON OF A HORNLESS UNICORN, don't you dare even think about turning her little game on her.

Earlier in the week I had to run to the grocery store for like the 15th time that day because apparently it's really hard to remember to buy spinach the first 14 times you go to a store, even when it's the only thing on your list. Anyway, Alexis was in her playroom when I returned, so I made the little turn from the basement into her playroom to ask her if she wanted to help me make dinner. Her back was turned as she ripped clothes off of dolls (Please tell me that phase is almost over. PLEASE.), so I jokingly yelled, "BOO!"

People, I could not have possibly made more noise as I walked into that room. I had loud shoes clomping on the floor, plastic bags rustling in my hand, I had talked to the husband when I walked through the basement, AND the dogs had barked at me. I was pretty much a walking ball of obnoxious sounds.

She didn't hear me coming.

At all.

When I yelled, "BOO!" she screamed like the hot girl at the beginning of a horror flick. Then she fell to the floor sobbing and bawling and genuinely freaked out because I had scared the pants off of her. It took half an hour to calm her down because she was JUST SO UPSET OMGWTFBBQ.

I apologized about seventeen eleventy bajillion times, but it didn't matter. She was PISSED.

And now she's seeking revenge.

So while she's being super cooperative and helpful and polite, she's also scheming how she's going to scare the crap out of me. I fully expect to wake up one of these days to find that she has glued a second head onto one of the cats.

Or worse.

 

Finding Fear

I am not afraid of heights.

I like to think I have a healthy respect for heights, but the shenanigans involved with taking the chalk photos would probably lead you to believe that I am lacking any sort of common sense when it comes to ladders. Somewhere in my head I know that falling would hurt, I just don't normally consider falling to be an option.

I know. I KNOW. I'm not real bright sometimes.

Regardless, I do not suffer from acrophobia. At all.

Friday night we went to Kennywood. We arrived late in the evening, meaning all the good parking lots were full. We had to park way at the very top of the hill.

So, we rode the ski lift down to the park.

To say that Alexis was thrilled would be an understatement. She loves to ride high up in the sky. She looks over the bar, leans back and forth and to and fro, whips her head around all over the place, and kicks her feet to make the entire contraption swing.

She has absolutely no fear of heights. She loves to look down over the world and take in its every detail.

Just like I do.

We are not afraid of heights.

However.

HOWEVER.

When Alexis toys with gravity in many of the same ways that I often do, it leaves me panic-stricken. DON'T ROCK! SIT BACK! QUIT LEANING FORWARD! I want to yell.

I hate the karma boomerang.