Because I`m Bad, I`m Bad...You Know It!

I`ve told you before how dangerous I am... here`s the post ..        I Am Danger!

Well it seems I've done it again...holy terror that I am....

I'm going through the very complicated process of self representation for my own divorce.  On one hand, I'm glad you are allowed to go through this without the very expensive and not-guaranteed expertise of legal representation...however, the process itself is still overly complicated when you and the ex don't agree on everything.


I had a motion to file, which means I also had to have an affidavit of service to file which proves I served the defendent the motion prior to filing.  The affidavit must be notorized before I can file it.  Now if you go anywhere BUT the courthouse to have something notorized, there's a fee attached, and I'm basically broke.  The courthouse is 45 minutes away...so the challenge is, to get the notorizing done for free, THEN be able to take a copy of it for my own records.  Fun times.

So I packed up my paperwork along with a pen, paperclips, a stapler...you know, all the junk I figured I would need in order to get everything done in one trip.  Like I said, I'm broke...driving around isn't an option with the insane price of gas.

So into the courthouse I go.

Security is high at the courthouse.  It should be...Oshawa can be rough and it has it's fair share of upstanding citizens, if you know what I mean.  You have to put your belongings through the x-ray machine and walk through the metal detector.  Police officers are there watching everyone carefully, ensuring the safety of the people inside.  It's a good thing.  I plunked my purse and paperwork into the bucket that would run through the x-ray machine and walked through the metal detector dohicky.  No pat down required.

But the officer operating the x-ray machine didn't like what he saw in my purse.  I looked at the screen...that bloody stapler looked like a gun!

I giggled as he went through the contents of my purse...and he started to relax a little.  He asked what the box in there was...it was travel wipes.  He pulled out my staple remover with an eyebrow raised.  Opened my empty wallet.  I didn't bother stifling my laugh.  Hey...ya go through a woman's purse, best not have any expectations.  By the time he was finished he looked completely baffled, as well he should, but he was laughing along with me.  He thanked me for my patience and I told him it was exciting...no worries.

Then I told him I was tired of not looking like much, and would he mind telling everyone that I really am dangerous.

He laughed at me.

Hmpf.

Danger Is My Middle Name

I stand a towering 5'4".  I weigh in at a staggering (eff you ain't telling).

Raised in the the rough side of .. um... Hicksville ...  my street senses are finely tuned.

Okay, I'm full of crap.

I'm not very big, and my personality is very, very small town.

I smile a lot, talk to everyone and get laughed at when I'm actually angry.

In the words of Katie from Horton Hears a Who ... "In my world everyone is a pony, and they all eat rainbows, and poop butterflies."



But I had a moment. 

Once.

It was a sunshine filled morning and I was driving the long stretch of country road between my house in Bealton and my folks' place in Hagersville.

Ordinary enough.

I had been talking on my cell phone and lowered it casually when I saw the police cruiser approaching from the opposite direction.  I glanced in my rear view mirror, and saw him turn around to come back and follow me.

Crud.

I put my cell phone in my purse, check my speed, and put on my most innocent, angelic face.

He followed me into town.  And put the cherries on.

Summanabitch he HAD to wait until I was in town where people I knew would see.....

He was in his late 40's and approached my window from a distance.  I rolled it down, and grinned my 'yes officer, thanks for the friendly visit' grin.

"Where you going?"  Says he.

"My parent's house in town here" I point.

"Where you coming from?"

"My house in Bealton" pointing a thumb behind me.

He talks into his radio, and 2 cruisers pull up across the street, and a third cruiser pulls in behind him.

"Um....what are we doing here" I ask, fighting back a giggle.

"You are driving a vehicle matching the description of a vehicle seen leaving the scene of a crime.  A lone woman in a grey vehicle, suspected carrying arms"

"Really?"  I said "How exciting!!!"

I clapped my hands together and laughed.

He laughed when he said "I don't think it's you, but we have to go through the motions to be sure.  Do you mind if we search your vehicle?"

I looked over at the young officer who stood outside my passenger side...canine unit.

"Wow, really?"  I laughed..."sure!  Geez, I didn't know I was so scary!!!"

He sighed and shrugged and blushed a little...

As the canine unit officer poked around my back seat I said "boy am I ever glad I just had the car detailed!"

I giggled. 

He didn't.

Plththtth

They wrapped up their big search of the mom mobile...car seats and all...and the original officer apologized and thanked me.

"No worries, it was going to be a dull day!  Glad to have a little excitement!"

I laughed all the way to my parents' house.

After all...YOU may think I don't look like much....

......but I AM danger!!!

Four cruisers to handle me....be afraid!!!!

Safety Moment: Mess Hall Memories

Work Sista and I sat yammering away at Swiss Chalet between bites of lunch yesterday.  We talked about the men in our lives,  parties, work, friends... The conversation was fully animated..both of us hand talkers... 

Booths are a good idea in restaurants..food can fly off a fork at any given moment and the extra barrier provides somewhat adequate protection.

Somewhat.

I remember a shorter version of The Tall One winging an unwanted pickle across McDonald's.  It landed on the biggest, scariest looking meathead's table.  Splat.

I stifled a laugh, being the mature mother I am, and tried to act like I had no idea what just happen as I quietly scolded the little guy.

It was not the only pickle incident.

Recall the story told previously about Red flinging his pickle at the Duckman..and how it landed perfectly in the middle of one lens of his dark cool guy sunglasses...and stuck there.  And how Duckman didn't flinch or crack a smile..stern as ever as he stared through the pickle at the offender, waiting for me to take action.  Rightfully so, children shouldn't behave that way.  The poor lad has a freak for a mother however, and I only laughed my blessed ass off...cah'mon..that there is funny!

I must tell you though, dinner with my offspring has, in the past, proven outright dangerous.

At some point, utensils are introduced to children.  Saminator's early days with the spoon were indicative of his creative nature.  It was tricky actually putting the food on the spoon, so he'd simply lower his mouth to the edge of the table and use the spoon to slide the food across the table and into his open mouth.  Whatever works for ya brother :). 

When the fork was introduced, his creative side kicked in again.  He was quick to discover that the fork doubled as a weapon..and would whip it across the table.  The Tall One, who sat directly across from him became a target..and Saminator found it rather amusing when The Tall One's eyes would bulge in shock as he used his cat like reflexes to dodge the flying four pronged spear.  Dude had quite an arm on him for a toddler.

We've since managed to tame the wild man, but one should still be wary.

....there is always the possibility of some poor innocent sustaining injury...it could happen anytime, to anyone...

As with my Work Brotha JL...  He was cutting into a piece of crispy battered fish when the end flew off and bounced off the neighbouring table, falling harmlessly to the floor.  whew!  That could have ended poorly! Seated at the next table where a gangly crew of railroad workers...no doubt looking for any excuse for fun.  As it were, the only thing that got hurt was JL's pride as the 6 of us that watched on howled at his misfortune.   Well, the 6 of us and the railroad crew...and a couple of people that witnessed from the bar.  Nice one :)

We are sure to remind him of this on occasion.  Because we luv him :)

We'll be sure to get a booth for my Work Brotha next time we take him in public..as I do with my boys.

No promises though.

Consider yourself warned.