March 29, 2013

Countdown: Momma in High School

In counting down to TMI Mom: Oversharing My Life's release on April 1, I'm taking your suggestions and writing what YOU want me to write about as determined by the likes on our TMI Mom Facebook page.  Today's suggestion comes from Sheila Shepperd. Email me Sheila--You've won an ebook of TMI Mom: Oversharing My Life!


Gosh, I'd really like to tell you some good and silly stories of me in high school, but the truth is that I was a great kid. Really. 


Okay fine. I wasn't exactly great, but I wasn't bad either. Funny thing is that I can share all kinds of stories about my friends. With that in mind, I texted my two high school besties and asked them to share a funny story about me from high school. 

Pammy texted back and said, "How much time do I have?" I'm not sure what she's trying to say here. She went on to say that I was not the same confident woman in high school that I am today. I love Pammy. And damn straight I'm confident today. Right? I'm confident, don't you think?

I have memories going to a Chicago concert (the band, not the city) and we drove a friend's parents' brand new Audi. I thought it'd be funny (and it was) to recline the front seats as we were driving. I was sitting in the back at the time. This actually broke the seats. Apparently not everyone shared my same sense of humor in high school either. 

When I think of high school, however, a particular day my sophomore year really stands out. I had a headache, stomach ache, something and stayed home from school by myself. In fact, I think I woke up just enough to tell my own momma that I wasn't going to school that warm day in early May and then I went back to sleep. I remember the windows being open, and I remember wishing my own momma would turn on the air conditioner before she left. Or at least the attic fan--man! I loved the attic fan.

Later than morning, or early that afternoon, I started to stir (I'm sure it was because I had to pee) and then I heard a rustling sound in the kitchen; then it stopped. I lay very, very still. Then I heard the rustling again; then it stopped. Was someone in the house? Do I call out and run the risk that the paper rustler in the kitchen knowing I'm there or do I lay very, very still and hope they steal the papers and leave me alone. I had seen just enough of the Halloween movies through my fingers to know that this would probably not end well for me. 

As swiftly and silently as I could, I slithered out from underneath the covers, grabbing the wall phone on my way to hiding underneath my bed like a dust bunny. There was the rustling again. Then it stopped. Then it rustled. Then it stopped. I called my dad.

"I think someone's in the kitchen," I whispered.

"What are you doing home?" he asked.

Geez--was this really the time to be asking about my school attendance record? "I was sleeping because I don't feel well and now someone's in the kitchen rustling papers." 

There was the rustling. Then it stopped. Then it rustled. Then it stopped.

"Do I call the cops?" I asked.

"I'll be home."

In what seemed like five and a half hours, but was probably only ten minutes, (I'll never know because I couldn't see the clock from my position under the bed), my daddy arrived home. I heard him open the door and call out my name, "Heather!"

"BECAREFULDADDY!" I screamed, "SOMEONE'SINTHEKITCHENRUSTLINGPAPERSANDTHEY'REPROBABLYGOINGTOKILLUS!"

I heard my daddy walk across the kitchen. I heard the rustling. Then I heard it stop. Oh my goodness--they'd gotten my daddy! 

Then I heard him approach my bedroom door, "Heather?" I asked.

"Are you alone?" I called back from underneath my bed.

"Yes," he sighed, and I scootched out from beneath my bed. In my doorway stood my dad ... my hero ... my savior ... my knight in shining armor, holding a Twinkie wrapper, which was being blown into the cabinet door by our oscillating fan.

My life wouldn't have been in danger if they'd have just turned on the air conditioner.

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