Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Happy 2sday

By Allison Adams 11-13-11 / Submitted to The Greeneville Sun on 11-14-11

“Happy Tuesday, honey!”

“happy 2sday mom”

“What’s up?”

“head n 2 class”

“Great! How’s the weather?”

“windy”

“Its lovely at home. I miss you.”

“miss u 2”

“Let me tell you a story.”

“no time”

“It’s a short story. Once upon a time, in a quaint, small town, there was a prematurely gray-haired momma.”

“mom”

“She was married to a handsome, hard-working daddy-bird, and they lived in an empty nest.”

“r u really gonna do this now”

“Yes, I am.”

“o boy”

“Anyway – their last baby bird had recently left the nest for college, far, far away.”

“did they let him take a car”

“No.”

“i can relate”

“They missed their baby bird very much, but they pledged to give him some space so he could spread his wings.”

“dfine space”

“I mean they didn’t constantly call their baby bird on his cell phone, or pester him with trivial text or email messages.”

“dfine trivial”

“They refrained from initiating contact with him unless they needed to pass along important info.”

“dfine important”

“They sent occasional emails or txt messages about life altering details.”

“we had lasagna for supper is NOT life altering dtail”

“They really tried.”

“neither is – i found ur missing shoestring under ur bed”

“The momma bird had a harder time with this arrangement than the daddy bird.”

“u got that rite”

“After a while, the momma bird began to crave communication from her baby bird.”

“so she stepped up the txting”

“Yes, she did. And she coveted any response she received from her baby bird, no matter how brief the reply.”

“baby bird is vry vry busy”

“The momma bird knew her little bird was very, very, busy, but it was hard for her to think he was too busy to share his life with her.”

“calculus & german r killing baby bird”

“There was no depth to their conversations. Their contact became nothing but a series of short messages.”

“txt msgs r supposed 2 b short”

“She knows that.”

“then why is she txting complete sentences”

“She can’t help herself.”

“she needs 2 get wit da program”

“Anyway, momma and daddy bird scheduled weekly Skype calls with their baby bird. That way they could converse, and see his sweet face, and pretend they were sitting across the table from him.”

“skype is good”

“Not really. The connection was horrible and the Skype sessions were more frustrating than fulfilling.”

“2 bad”

“So the momma bird began to make notes.”

“huh”

“She began to make notes about things she wanted to talk to her baby bird about so she would remember to include those things when the day came that they could have a REAL conversation.”

“ur joking”

“No joke. You see - text messaging and emails are NOT substitutes for face-time.”

“i no”

“The momma bird started to count the days until her little bird would come back to the nest for a visit.”

“r u serious”

“Eleven. She realized that while there are benefits to text messages and email, there is no greater treasure than good, old-fashioned, face-to-face conversation.”

“my battry is dying rap it up”

“Ok. So, the momma bird is patiently waiting for the day when she can perch next to her baby bird, and they can tweet about the things happening in their lives.”

“wait - r u on twitter”

“No, son. Pay attention. This is a story about birds.”

“o right”

“Wait. If I was on Twitter, would you follow me?”

“no”

“Just checking.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Paranormal Activity

Paranormal Activity

By Allison Adams 10-28-11 / Submitted to The Greeneville Sun on 10-28-11

I don’t know about you, but I’m glad Halloween is finally over.

A very unusual thing began happening at our house right after I brought home the first bag of Halloween candy, just after Labor Day.

I like to buy early, you know, when there’s still a nice selection.

I’m trying to make up for the great Trick-Or-Treat debacle of 2010, when I stocked up on a closeout special of Root Beer Barrels and snack-size boxes of raisins. As a result we were labeled “one of those houses”, so this year I decided to spring for the really good stuff – my favorites: everything chocolate, and Smarties.

Well - almost immediately my supply of really good stuff began to steadily disappear!

I am not making this up.

I wasn’t the only one who noticed it – my husband noticed it, too.

Naturally since there’s just the two of us now– and we’re mature, health conscious, adults – there was no need to stash the stock out of the kids’ reach, as we have had to do in years past.

As a matter of fact since there was no need to tuck away the treats I artfully arranged our high quality candy in a fancy crystal bowl, which I displayed in plain sight – right in the middle of the coffee table.

Soon after, I couldn’t help but notice that the level of candy in the bowl seemed to be dropping.

It was as if my fancy crystal bowl had sprung a leak.

Eventually I realized that the contents had simply “settled”, and I added more goodies to bring it back up to an acceptable level.

Nonetheless the settling continued; and I had to add even more.

Oh – I almost forgot to mention that I also started coming across empty candy wrappers … in my pockets, at the bottom of my purse, and tucked up my sleeve.

Strange.

Anyway, eventually I had to go to the store and restock!

That started a vicious cycle: Add. Settle. Add. Settle. Go out and buy more.

One day while I was hardly at work at my computer I glanced over gasped when I spied a couple of empty, crumpled Smartie cellophanes next to my keyboard.

They appeared there out of nowhere.

There was also pile of fun-sized chocolate candy wrappers at the bottom of the little trashcan next to my desk.

Spooky.

My husband reported similar findings on his person and in spots he frequented around the house.

We were stumped.

We discussed the matter further and after great deliberation we agreed on a plan, which I executed the next day.

In a drastic attempt to thwart whatever force was behind our disappearing candy, I moved the crystal candy bowl from the center of the coffee table to the side table at the end of the couch.

It. Did. Not. Work.

I bought another bag of Butterfingers, Almond Joys, and Smarties.

And some miniature Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups.

Add. Settle. Add. Settle. Go out and buy more.

I continued to find empty candy wrappers in my bathrobe pockets, and also between the seat cushions of the couch.

Eerie.

By the time October 31st rolled around my husband and I had each gained nearly 6 pounds just from the stress caused by the whole disappearing candy ordeal.

Needless to say we eagerly responded to the doorbell last night, and generously filled the Trick-Or-Treat-ers’ bags and buckets with fun-sized chocolates and Smarties!

Now that the candy is gone I expect the paranormal activity will cease as well and we can resume a normal life – albeit slightly heavier.

Weird.