What's Up Chick-ee?

As I said last week, Roommate's husband came in from the desert. Their family joined mine Thursday night for family night. Friday, he locked himself out of the house and I had to go let him in. I saw more humor in that than he did. When I got there, he had a box beside him. Inside the box was a baby chicken that his daughter's class watched hatch. Great. More animals. Just before I moved in, Roommate and her son had to bury an entire litter of kittens because something go them. A couple of months ago, a friend of ours had to come bury Soldier's 18 year old poodle, and a few weeks ago, we had to flush a crab. This chick (step-daughter named it Chickee b/c that's what I always call her) is doomed. Friday night a group of us went to supper at The Depot. I am staying with Cousin while Soldier is in town, at by 8:30 I was in my pajamas and washing my face. Of course, while I had soap all over my face, Mr. Big called. We talked for about 20 minutes, but finally I told him we had to hang up. He could have done a commercial for "unsafe driving." He had two of his kids, his two nieces, and his nephew in the truck with him. They were screaming and going wild, he had the music blasting, and was talking to me on the phone. Mercy. Not a long time later, Cousin and family returned home and we hung out for a little while. I settled into bed with my book, then Big called again. We talked until I couldn't hold my eyes open another minute and then I was out. Saturday was lazy. I got my eyebrows waxed, ran an errand for my sister, took a nap, read my book, then went back to Roommate's house to hang out with friends. We had fun, but nothing too wild and crazy. I was home before midnight. Roommate and her family were leaving for vacation Sunday morning, so I'm back at the house until they get home. I have to feed and care for all the animals, including the chicken. What am I supposed to do with a chicken? I told Soldier that he might as well dig the hole for it now. The thought of having to tell step-daughter that Chickee didn't make it is more than I can bear. I have asked around to see where I could possibly buy another white chick to replace it, but haven't gotten any leads. Great. A few people I know have bought chicks for their kids over the years, and it seems that they only live for a few days. Since they won't be back from vacation until Thursday, I am most afraid that this chick will check out on my clock. I've never known what made them die so easily, until this morning. The cleaning lady was at the house and she told me that they are not supposed to have chlorinated water - which is what comes out of the tap. Apparently, there are drops you can put in the water to take care of that, but we have no such drops. That poor little thing is in the upstairs bathroom being poisoned to death as I write this.

In other weekend news... I weighed in this weekend, and it's official... 75 pounds! I'm so beside myself that I hardly know what to do. Mr. Big informed me that he has been offered a job for 8-10 weeks on the other edge of the country, making an ungodly amount of money, and he can't turn it down. He sees dollar signs, I see disappointment that we've only just met and he may be leaving right when we're getting to know each other so well. I can't stand thinking about it, and it's all he's talked about. I would just tell him that I didn't want him to go, but we're not really "involved" enough yet for me to voice such an opinion. Also, I had two panic attacks last night. Not really, but close enough. One was very slight. I had dinner with my sister last night and she informed me that my parents almost had a very serious accident on their way to church yesterday. They were in the Mustang; the roads were wet, so Dad was taking it easy. He changed lanes and hit a patch of diesel fuel that had been spilled in the road during a wreck the night before. When he hit it, the car went into a spin across his side of the highway and was headed straight for the culvert. The steering wheel was locked and he had absolutely no control of the car. He said that suddenly, something (an angel no doubt) picked the car up and set it back in the right direction. They stopped to regain their composure a little and then made the few more miles to church. Sister said that he was still white in the face while he was trying to preach. I absolutely cannot stand the thought of something happening to one of my parents, much less the both of them! The other incident, is much more comical. Of course, it's something totally unbelievable, but as I live and breathe, this is a true story. At 9:45 last night, I had just put on my new pajamas, and was just about to rip tags off of them. Just then the doorbell rang. I couldn't imagine who on Earth it would be. I half way expected it to be Big or Roommate's friend that took me out on the motorcycle, assuming that both of them would have been doing that just to freak me out and get a good laugh on my expense. But here I am, by myself in the huge house in the middle of the woods, the closest people a half a mile away and out of earshot. And the doorbell is no ordinary doorbell. It loudly plays "Dixie", which under normal circumstances is enough to unnerve me a little, but this late at night when I'm alone and not expecting anyone, it was enough to send me into a near panic. Lucy, the good dog that she is, felt my anxiety and she stood between me and the door, ears and tail perked, waiting to see who was there. I couldn't see anyone through the glass, but that doesn't mean anything. I flipped on the porch light and opened the door ever so slowly. No one. I looked from side to side and with a most shaky voice said, "Hellooo?" No one. Then I heard Lucy run towards the stairs and there was one of the cats climbing the stairs with a fierceness. That stupid cat climbed the outside wall (it's wooden), rang the doorbell, and ran into the house when I opened the door! I slammed the door, ran up the stairs, grabbed the cat and commenced to beating her. She clawed at me, and ripped a hole in my new pajama shirt. Then I flung her out the door as hard as I could. A good hour passed before I could get my nerves under control enough to go to bed! When I told Cousin about it this morning, she reminded me that I need to inform Mr. Big about the drama that will curse him if he spends too much time with me. Hahaha.