So I sat down to blog and 'Tangled' is playing in my bedroom... which is right next to the family room. Kate is in there happy as a bug in a rug, but suddenly I started to hear this secondary noise. I couldn't quite place my finger on it -- but I did start to get concerned. It kind of sounded like people screaming, or at the least something happening that probably wasn't good. So I headed upstairs to the front door to listen (not sure how I was going to save people, but definitely...something. I would totally do something). No sound. But when I came back down, I could hear it again. So I carefully followed the sound, and lo and behold, not only was Katelyn watching Rapunzel do her thing, she was playing a kid racing game on the itouch thingy. It was all just a noisy game. So it was a false alarm. I know you're relieved.
Which got me thinking about how I have heard that if you're being attacked, you should not yell "Help!" Because apparently people are too afraid to help and you're on your own. But if you yell "Fire!," people will come running. So may you never have to use that, but just in case -- you know now how to defeat the natural man in people in an emergency situation.
That is kind of depressing.
And reminds me of this news story in KC of a bus attack in mid-town. Two young guys got on the bus and were being really crude, plus they didn't bother to pay their fare. So the bus driver pulled over and told them to get out, so naturally they attacked the bus driver and stabbed him multiple times while the other passengers just watched. This is a really craperrific story, but at the same time, the passengers were probably scared and didn't want to get stabbed, too. So I guess they're thinking about enclosing the bus drivers in a plastic box. So... problem solved, I guess. You should read the news here. It is pretty darn interesting, I must say. I can't wait to check it every morning!
I don't think I'd be thinking about any of this except this morning the Double B texted me and said he forgot to take out the garbage and recycling, and asked if I could please do it. The garbage here is kind of silly -- they don't give you a big can like you might be used to, you're just supposed to fit all of your garbage for the week in two plastic bags and a recycling bin and put it out on the street. Well, I went out to get the bag from the can we keep outside and lo and behold, it was pretty much covered in maggots. This was essentially my nightmare come true, but in a truly fatalistic way, I wasn't too surprised -- apparently this is a pretty common thing out here in the heat (It's been the hottest it's been all summer the last couple weeks. 100 degrees today, plus add some humidity, and it's really special). Back to the maggots. It was disgusting. Truly shudder worthy. But I bucked up, camper, and tied that bag of death and decay up and drag/heaved it around the house and up to the curb. I felt completely filthy dirty and fairly creeped out. But I did it, man. After scouring myself with the hottest water possible and antibacterial soap, I texted the Double B about my heroics and then did a few things in the kitchen. While there I briefly thought of all the crime shows where they've shown maggots, and I thought, what if the garbage man suspects us of being murderers?
And then it spiraled, bringing us back to the beginning of the post where I heard the suspicious noise and thought I would perhaps have to save someone in the neighborhood from a gang beating.
You have now seen how my sad little mind works.