CASE FILES OF A TRUE (WANNA BE) DETECTIVE

I've always thought that I would make a good detective.  I'm quick to notice things out of the ordinary, or to pick up on body language.  Perhaps being the mother to five teenagers (13-19 at one point) helped hone those skills.

Like the time for instance when we had rented a cabin for a week at a fishing lodge owned by some friends of ours.  There were quite a few young people there that week and our kids knew most of them so they had a great time hanging out swimming, riding tubes down the rapids, and playing volleyball.  One afternoon all the boys decided to take a boat out and go fishing.  The girls lay out at the end of the dock to sunbathe and swim and the moms sat on the lawn chatting.  About an hour later the boys pulled up in the boat, got out, and headed for the cabin of the one boy who was there without his parents.  That was when the first red flag went up.

"Something's up." I said to the group of moms.

"What do you mean?' one of the mothers asked.

"Just that something is not right" I replied. "Since when have you known a bunch of teenage boys to walk right past a group of girls sunbathing in swimsuits and not even say a word to them.  Something is definitely up!"

I got up and made my way to the cabin and was met at the door by my oldest son. That was when the second red flag went up.  They had obviously assigned him to be the lookout and he wasn't letting me past the door.

"What's going on?"

"umm... nothing."

"I'm not stupid.  What's up?"

I looked past him and spotted a young man coming out of the bathroom with his hand dripping in blood.
Long story short, he had shot himself in the hand with a pellet gun while checking to see if it had any pressure left in it. In his defense, he had tried shooting it into the water first (smart), then into the aluminum boat (not so smart) and finally into his hand (just plain stupid but better than his face I guess). He had then gone into the bathroom and tried to extract the pellet from his hand with a razor blade (not the brightest idea).  He ended up having to have surgery.


While I was in Portugal going on a tour of Lisbon with the wedding party (250 of us) something caught my attention on the narrow little street we walking down to get back to our tour buses.  It was the movement of two women pushing their way into our group.  I just thought it was strange that they wouldn't have tried to go around the group instead of heading right into the middle of us.  I knew that they weren't part of our group because they were holding street maps and none of us had any.  We had been warned on the bus before we got out to be aware of pickpockets.  We were told that they often had cameras and street maps and would stop and ask you for directions and take advantage of your helpful nature.  As I watched these two women I realized that they had targeted a young mother with her purse slung over her shoulder and carrying her fussy baby.  I quickly pushed past everyone and managed to put myself between the mom and the pickpockets and warned her of them.  I turned around and gave the two women a dirty look and shook my head.  They quickly turned around and made their way out of our group.  I then followed them back up the street a ways before returning to our group.  The wedding photographer wanted to get a photo of them so I showed her where I last saw them and there they were coming back down the street with another group.   They spotted me and stopped dead in their tracks.
Yeah, I'm pretty much a super hero!

                                                The street where I thwarted the pickpockets.

OH THE THINGS YOU FIND OUT

I was never under the delusion that my children were perfect but I did believe them to be fairly well behaved, respectful children.  Now that they are grown up, far from home, and feeling safe from any parental retribution, I am hearing stories from them that make me shake my head and sigh but most times laugh (which is not what I would have done at the time).

While talking the other day, Adam revealed to me that he had had little respect for his grade twelve english teacher. This was not news.  I remember him complaining about her lack of knowledge. "Mom" he had said to me "she doesn't even know the difference between a metaphor and a simile."

Disclaimer:  I will be using a word that some might find offensive so stop reading here if you are easily offended. 

So here's what went down many years ago in Adam's grade twelve english class.

Teacher: "Does anyone know the the name of the literary term used by authors to hint at what is to come later in the story?"

SIlence

Teacher:"Nobody knows?

Adam calling out from the back of the class: "Foreskin."

Teacher: "What? Did I hear something?"

Adam louder this time: "Foreskin"

The teacher turns to the board and starts writing: "That's right, foreshadowing."

I am still laughing.

OF MICE AND WOMAN

That friend of mine was right.. the one that pointed out that there is always more than just one mouse. 

Yes, a whole punk gang was making themselves quite at home in my pantry.  They were getting the best of me too, eating chocolate chips, pasta noodles, and fine Belgian chocolate to their hearts' content.  They were having a grand old time being all rowdy, stealing the bait and setting off my traps.  They were having a great time at my expense.  Sure I managed to catch one a few weeks ago but I realized later that it was the stupid fat one of the bunch.  He probably drew the short straw when they came across my new state of the art traps.   I'll have to hand it to them, none of them were silly enough to get caught by another one afterwards.  I was smug.  "Ha" I thought "I'll have to tell Ange there was only one."   I never saw another sign of the mice after catching the one.  I really thought I had taken care of the problem.  Then one night as I watching a movie, one came out to taunt me.  He stopped, looked right at me as if to say "Yeah that's right lady, me and my gang eat your food, poop where we want and there's nothing you can do about it."  I could see his courage waiver a bit when his revelation didn't elicit the reaction he thought it would.  No scream escaped my lips, my feet stayed firmly in place and I could see his panic rise when I narrowed my eyes.  He didn't know who he was messing with.

The challenge was on and even though I think it inhumane, the very next day I purchased 4 glue traps.  As of today, there are three less mice in the house. 

Sorry little mice but what you didn't realize is that I was once the mother to four teenage boys, that's right, four.  I thrive on challenge.