Krystal called me last Thursday to casually inform me that I was her emergency contact person. Random, I know. It was finals week and she had just finished taking her exams. Now all she had to do was finish up her work week at the school cafeteria, and then pack her things and say goodbye to her beautiful Yakeley-Gilchrist dorm room located on MSU's beautiful old North Campus.
Talking to K this time of year always makes me nostalgic for MSU. Spring at MSU is one of my favorite memories. If you've never been to MSU's campus in the Spring, you're missing out. The campus is laden with trees in full bloom: cherry and apple blossoms, dogwood, magnolia. There are flowering bushes everywhere and more tulips than you could throw a stick at. Students are all out on the grass, studying or playing frisbee, and sharing the lawn with the squirrels and ducks.
Here are some shots from my days there. They don't look very nice because I scanned old photos with my flatbed scanner, instead of having the negatives professionally scanned (I totally missed these when I did a big negative scan a few years ago. Bummer!). But you get the point.
A few short hours after Krystal and I spoke, she calls me again, in tears. She had been riding her bike on MSU's campus when she was hit by a big old green van. A big old green van that KEPT ON GOING after it took my sister down. I was so pissed. She filed a police report but she didn't get the license plate because she was too busy getting whiplash and a concussion, so the police didn't hold out any hope for catching the a-hole.
Krystal said that three other people were around when this happened. Two didn't even stop (you're lucky I wasn't there, JERKS!). One girl asked Krystal if she was all right, and she was in so much shock that she said that she was, and the girl left. After sitting on the sidewalk for a few minutes she realized what had happened and called the police.
She felt pretty beat up but thought she was okay, so she went to work. A few hours later she had a massive headache and got worried. When she called me I suggested that she lay down for a few hours to see how she feels.
"What if I have a brain aneurism?!??" she cried. She was starting to get worked up.
"What?" I said.
"I don't want to end up like Natasha Richardson!!" Now she was really crying.
Who the heck is Natasha Richardson? I wondered. I know that K has a friend named Natasha, but I didn't think she had head problems...
Krystal explained that Natasha Richardson was Liam Neeson's wife who recently died from a brain aneurism after a skiing accident.
Oh, THAT lady. I'm sooo not a celebrity follower. I'm proud of that.
After talking her down, Krystal decided to go to the emergency room. She had been freaked out about making Mom and Dad angry by running up their medical bills, as K has had several trips to the doctor or ER this year. Mom reassured her that if she was hurt, she needed to get checked out. That's life.
So she did. And she is okay, despite the whiplash, concussion, and hurt knee and elbow.
Krystal and I found it ironic that just a few hours before her accident she had put me as her emergency contact, and then an emergency happened.
I am really steamed that the van driver didn't stop after he hit K. She is hurt, and her cool vintage bike is probably totalled (though she wants to see if Dad, the fix-it man, can resurrect it).
Sadly for K, Spring at MSU probably won't have the same whistful, bird-chirping, lovely garden, sunshiny feeling as it does for me. Poor girl...
What strikes me is that it took me 30 years to realize this.
It all started one early Sunday morning last fall. Mom and Dad had gotten up earlier than usual. To go to church, you ask? No. To take part in another activity that is perhaps just as holy to my parents: handgun class.
So Dad was standing at the stovetop making eggs when Mom walked into the kitchen and started to whoop and holler. There, at Dad’s feet, was a giant RAT. The rat jumped up and ran across Dad’s feet before it escaped under the cupboards and to its safe haven of the basement.
Mom was all in a tizzy then. The whole family was set to come over for Thanksgiving the next week, including little Olivia. “We can’t have a rat when the baby comes!” Mom exclaimed. “It could eat her hands!” Now, before you think that my mother is overreacting, Google “rats biting babies.” Granted, the possibility of Olivia getting eaten on by a rat was quite slim, seeing as someone would be holding her just about the entire time and my parents don’t live in a slum with flesh-eating rats, but still.
The rat was quickly killed, along with six of his mousy friends. I asked my mom how big the rat was, as I am a journalist at heart and don’t do exaggerations. Mom said that the dead rat was as big as a hamster.
I was surprised to hear about the rat, since my parents have never had rodent problems. I think it was because we regularly had a kennel of Jack Russells (renowned for their rodent-killing abilities), several feisty barn cats, and children constantly running in and out of the buildings and basement. When there’s people, cats, and dogs around, mice and rats don’t have much opportunity to party. For 20 years my parents have lived in that house on 75 acres with several outbuildings, and we’ve only had one rodent problem before this.
Back before my parents remodeled the house, we had a resident rat named Curly. Krystal, who followed Mom everywhere, and saw him several times, named him.
After rat #2 (dubbed Larry...see the pattern?) last fall, I asked Mom how she knew we had Curly living in the house and she said, “I saw his happy little face!”
Dad would leave for work around 4 or 5 a.m. and Mom would sit on the couch and read her Bible and pray until us kids got up for school. The living room was over 100 years old and my parents had not been able to fix it up yet. One of the walls even had a little mouse archway chewed into it, just like in the Tom and Jerry cartoons.
“I was reading my Bible one day when I saw two little eyes (in the mouse arch) so I got down and looked and he was looking right at me. I said, ‘You dirty rat!’”
She told me this all quite matter-of-factly, which is my Mom’s way. Nothing in this world is really out of the ordinary to my mother. I am the same way, but I know that if I came face to face with a RAT, I would be a bit unnerved. Though I’d probably call him a dirty rat, too.
Mom continued with her rat story. “Then, when I was putting wood in the stove (in the basement) it jumped up and it was the flying rat.”
Krystal corroborates this story. "I was down there when she saw him that time," she told me. "The first time I saw him mom was loading wood in the basement. He ran vertically up the wall into a hole."
Curly was a tough rat to get. Dad tried several tricks, but Curly got wise to his antics and outsmarted him every time. Dad had even created this elaborate trap, which was an advanced version of “walking the plank.” A common way to catch a rat is to put a ramp up to a deep bucket of water and put a treat at the end of the plank. As the rat walks to the end of the plank, the plank will tip into the bucket with the rat on it, and the rat will drown. However, a clever rat will climb back up the submerged plank and hop out of the bucket. Dad crafted a plank with a hinge, so that as soon as Curly got to the edge, it would drop him in, and then swing back into place, leaving Curly with no way to climb out.
Curly figured out the plank and after walking out on it once (and somehow escaping), he never went back on it for the treat.
My parents eventually had to resort to the Blue Death, which is a poison. With children, dogs, and cats about, they didn’t want to use poison, but they had no choice. It worked. Curly was found dead one day, and he was tossed out by the barn.
Until 5-year-old Krystal found it. The story about THAT is in my attic. I think. I will look for it.
After they caught Larry this fall, I told my mom that I think she had a rat problem because she had killed all the snakes in her basement. Snakes eat rats, so if the snakes go away, the rats come out to play, right?
See, I wasn’t completely honest about our “only 2 rats” rodent problem. We also have had a few snake incidents.
This is where my mother’s fearlessness comes in.
Our basement used to be a Michigan basement, meaning that it has really low ceilings. Here is a photo of the basement today (note how long the jeans are hanging down—that should give you an idea of how much we have to stoop over to walk around down there). It looks a lot less creepy because Dad installed new windows and the place is all cleaned up. But back in the day, it was dark and scary and had lots of hidden cracks and crevices. And the ceiling is a sky of low rafters, heat ducts, and cobwebs.
Several years ago my mother was in the basement doing laundry or getting food from the pantry. “I saw something hanging and thought, ‘That looks like a snake,’ so I walked over and it WAS a snake!” Mom recalled.
Now who in their right mind would walk up to an unknown object, that you already think is a snake, that would be hanging next to your head, in a dark, creepy basement?!???
My mother.
(Apparently she was bothered by this enough to always wear a hooded shirt down there. That way, in the event that one DID drop on her head, it wouldn't slither down her shirt.)
Like rats, my mother has no time for snakes. They must be removed. When I was a teenager she had me help her kill a snake that was out in the yard. It was quite a gruesome ordeal, as the only tools we had were a baseball bat and a rusty hoe. It seemed to take forever and has scarred my memory ever since. Mom was not phased.
So this summer when she spotted some large snakes in her basement, she took action yet again. Next to the basement door she keeps this old farm implement which belonged to my great grandfather, Thomas Jefferson Davis Teague. It’s a very crude tool with an old wooden handle attached to a rusty piece of slightly curved metal. She calls it “Grandpa’s tool” and she kills snakes with it.
“I already killed a couple this year,” Mom told me. “With Grandpa’s tool. One was long, like 34” long. (The tool) killed three snakes and Dad said that Larry wasn’t dead so he took care of him with this (too).”
I asked her just how she killed a snake with Grandpa’s Tool.
“I pinned it down and I sawed its head off,” she said simply. “I sawed it in two.”
“Wasn’t it flailing all over the place while you did it?” I asked.
“No, you stand on it with both of your feet and then you use the Tool to saw it in the middle.”
I shudder just to think of being in the same room with a snake, but Mom has no qualms about standing on its writing body while she saws the life out of it.
Lately JB has been telling me that I’m my Mom whenever I say something funny or show a humorous mannerism. I take this as a compliment because I find my mother to be quite entertaining.
But fearless? Able to saw snakes in half with the flick of a tool?
Well my weekend went by in a whirlwind! But that was fine by me because I had a lot of fun.
On Friday, Lulu got her haircut and nails trimmed so now she’ll be fashionable for photos with Baby H and will stop tripping on the stairs because of her long nails. Since she had gotten banned from PetSmart (for story, click here), I took her to a private groomer who did a fabulous job with her. Even better than a red bow from PetSmart, Lucy got a pink bandana!
Saturday got kicked off with my Grand Rapids baby shower.
My mom and sisters all came from east Michigan for it, and there was the usual sisterly drama involved. This time Krystal was not ready at her dorm when they got to East Lansing, so they left her behind and she had to drive herself. There was much phone calls and discussion about all this while I was trying to get ready. One would think that Krystal was at fault for not being home at the appointed time, but she preferred to lay the blame on Anne. Haha.
“Didn’t you miss out on not having sisters?” I teased JB.
JB’s Aunt Helen, Aunt Rhonda, and cousin Sarah from Tennessee also attended the shower, though I think they arrived with less issue than the Teagues.
Again, I was shocked by everyone’s generosity. As my mom put it, “I got the mother lode!”
One of the gifts that JB had put on the registry that we did not receive was the video game Rock Band for his Xbox 360. Every time we go to Target JB asks if we can buy Rock Band, which is $165. Baby registry day was no different. I had told him, “No,” as usual. “Fine then. I’ll just register for it!” he had said. So he did. And now everyone asks why Rock Band is on there.
I thought it would be funny when we got home from the shower to tell JB that we DID get Rock Band from Tommy, who thought it would be a good gift for the baby.
“What? No we didn’t,” said JB.“…..did we?” He looked around at the presents.
“He was home last weekend and sent it with Mom today,” we said.
“Really? I don’t believe you,” he replied.
We then admitted that it was a trick, which JB said was a very mean trick. He didn’t really believe us, but had started to develop a small glimmer of hope nonetheless.
I thought it was quite funny. I also think that the baby does NOT need rock band.
After the shower the Teagues also showered me with more presents of cool hand-me-downs that they nabbed from different places. Mom and I discussed things that I have yet to obtain for baby and I mentioned having to shop for a breast pump.
“What! No! Don’t do the breast pump! Those things are terrible!” she exclaimed. This outburst got everyone’s attention, including poor JB, the only guy in the house.
“Well, what the hell am I supposed to do when I’m at work, Mom?”
“Just do it yourself! It’s much less painful. Those breast pumps will mangle your boobs!”
“You want me to milk myself, like a cow?”
Yes, she did want me to milk myself like a cow. I told her that I would not be doing that. She said that perhaps technology has advanced since she last knew about pumps. I said that none of my friends have come to me with horror stories, so I think it’s safe these days. Mom is still quite leary.
Then someone brought up borrowing a breast pump from a friend and Krystal was horrified, “That’s disgusting! I would never use a breast pump that belonged to someone else!”
Annie looked over at her. “This from the girl who has no issue with wearing other people’s underwear?”
Annie's got ya there, K!
Before they left, we all went to dinner at Yen Ching. It was JB and us five Teagues. As we entered the restaurant Mom said to JB, “Look, JB and all these women. It’s like a polygamist colony and we’re your wives. Well, except for me. That would just be weird.”
But JB having four sisters for wives wouldn’t be weird?
After they left JB turned to me and said (as he always does), “I’m really glad we got to hang out with your family today. I had a lot of fun. I really like your family.”
That’s because, well, the Teagues are entertaining even when they’re just being themselves.
After dinner JB, Lucy, and I went directly to the Hilton to hang out with the Tennessee family. There, Lucy wowed the crowd with her dog tricks and jumping Jack Russell legs.
Sunday was church, Crochet Day with some work friends, and then Bible Study baby shower. (Again, more wonderful gifts and love felt from everyone.)
Kristen and Seth gave us this really funny gag book and magnets about how not to raise your baby. There were nice drawings to accompany it. For instance, after bathing the baby, should you a.) dry baby with a towel or b.) put baby in clothes dryer? Apparently, the answer is A. My uncles and cousins have tried drying their sibs in the dryer, and my siblings and I played in the dryer plenty of times (without being brave enough to turn it on, probably because of the horror story that mom told us about the little boy who got cooked to death in a dryer) but I guess we should wait until the kid is old enough to play in the dryer herself and not start her out at such a young age. Besides, my mom gave me these wonderful hooded bath towels that I’m really excited to use instead.
Tonight we had dinner at the Hilton. Sooo good. Then we played a crossword game, where I was given a hard time for spelling Whore. I'd like to point out that others who were playing spelled much naughtier words! You know who you are! :)
My first baby shower was a few weeks ago in Mayville. My sisters and mom had been working very hard to get the house, food, etc, ready for the party. Sister Annie had been slaving particularly hard on everything. She had made and mailed the invites, managed the RSVP’s, and been home for the days leading up to the shower and thus did a lot of the preparing. Two other characters that were also home were Krystal and Mom. But Mom had gotten food poisoning the day before the shower and was kind of out of commission, and Krystal is a force to be reckoned with and hard to convince to help out if she has better things to do (sorry, K, you know it’s true—I’m sure you won’t deny this). Also, Krystal clashes with Annie and does not like taking orders from her, simply on principal.
One of the battles that Krystal lost was to clean her bathroom, which is the main bathroom that guests would be using. Her and Anne are the only two who use that bathroom and Anne was busy doing other things. Krystal reluctantly scrubbed the place down.
The night before the baby shower Krystal casually asks Mom, “Mom, you don’t use the purple toothbrush in my bathroom, do you?”
It was a silly question. Mom has her own bathroom. Why would she keep her toothbrush in the bathroom on the other side of the house?
“No. Why would I?” Mom replied.
“Good, because I cleaned the bathroom with it,” said Krystal.
Annie’s heart stopped. “That’s MY toothbrush!” she exclaimed.
“Oops!” said Krystal.
Krystal cleaned the bathroom (including the soap-scummed glass-walled shower) with Annie’s toothbrush and then put it back in the cupboard, where Anne later picked it up and brushed her teeth with it.
Annie was livid. Krystal is always messing with her. For example, just a few weeks earlier, she and Krystal had to share a bed when they had a house full of overnight guests. As Krystal climbed into the bed she had said to Anne, “If you so much as touch me in the night, I will kill you!” She then proceeded to wrap her entire body in a blanket so as to assure no accidental skin contact in the night, even though it was July and the house isn’t air conditioned. Anne was so unnerved by Krystal that she slept on the very edge of the bed all night and didn’t get any sleep.
So when Anne noticed that her toothbrush was moved to the shelf below it’s normal place, she had figured that Krystal had moved it because she didn’t want their toothbrushes to occupy the same air space or something.
Krystal is still defending her actions to this day: “I put the used toothbrush on the shelf below our toothbrush place, where the cleaning supplies are! Besides, it was an old ratty thing anyway!”
Anyone who truly knows Krytal would take this defense with a grain of salt. Yes, she is not above making an honest mistake. But she is also an ace liar and not above playing such a trick on her sister if she was in the right mood.
When I heard the story, I asked Anne what she was going to do to retaliate. My first idea was to clean the TOILET with K’s toothbrush, but that could lead to serious disease. And even if I was mean enough to let Krystal get diseased (which I’m not), anything she gets could easily be spread to the rest of us. In fact, all of our ideas risked too much disease, so we’re at a loss. Krystal is constantly getting up in Annie’s hair like that—she steals her clothes, beauty supplies, sunglasses, etc., with no remorse. And Anne does not retaliate.
I told Anne that perhaps Krystal does this because she seeks Annie’s attention.
The day after the shower, Krystal brought her luggage down that she would take back to Michigan State with her for the new school year. Anne said that Krystal’s luggage could not leave the house without it first being searched for stolen clothing. A careful search found both Anne AND Mom’s clothing in the bags destined for East Lansing. As if enough damage hadn’t been done already!
When you have several siblings, one must always be ready for retaliation. I am prepared for a Krystal attack. I have an arsenal of embarrassing Krystal stories that I could share with the world with the click of a mouse. Perhaps this is why she hasn’t messed with me like this. Well, one time she DID symbolically murder my stuffed bear because I said that she couldn’t have him for her own. But I think she knew better than to really murder him. That would have called for retaliation.
I can’t say for sure whether Krystal did this on purpose, but I’m looking to you, readers, to slip Annie some aces up her sleeve to hold until the next Krystal attack.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Well readers, I had all these plans for posts this week, but life took over. Boo to laundry and having to make dinner and feeling cruddy! I haven’t even started packing/planning for our upcoming vacation! Agh!
A few notes.
Friday-Saturday: Sister Krystal came over last weekend. We had a lot of fun. We did things like go to a Whitecaps (baseball) game with Bible Study friends, ate at Mongolian BBQ, shopped for yarn, and played card games. She and JB got to bond over this really cheesy long commercial for “Light Rock’s Greatest Hits,” where you get to see all the worst songs of the last three decades performed by their gnarly artists with the big hair and bitchin’ leisure suits. Apparently this was the source of much laugher for K and JB, as evidenced in some of these photos. JB also watched this with sister Annie when she last visited. I’m seeing a trend here…
Lulu also watched the show with them, but she was more happy just to be chillin’ on the couch with her best friend, Bunny, whom she drags around with her everywhere. Unfortunately for Bunny, Lucy doesn’t realize that he only has eyes on his face, not his butt, so he didn’t get to take in much of the show.
Sunday: K and I also went to the super cool Allegan Antiques Fair with Marian. My favorite purchase was a beautiful pink serving tray. I considered giving it to my sister Smelly for a Christmas present, but greed took over. (I’m also not sure how much she’d use one of these.) The sales lady asked if I had a pink and black kitchen. I wish! I told her no, I have a husband, so I try to be considerate of him and only get SOME pink things. Aren’t I a good wife?
Then Sister Annie stayed for one night on her way back from hanging with Brother Tommy in Chicago. She showed me this beautiful green ring she bought there, which made me green with envy.
Tuesday: I ate of the first fruits of our vegetable garden. Well, just one fruit—one little cherry tomato. But it was so good! I can’t wait for my other tomatoes to ripen!
Earlier on Tuesday I went for my standard pregnancy checkup. I’m still on target for weight gain, but when I asked the Doctor how things looked as he measured me, he said that I was looking a bit large (I’ve been telling everyone that baby will be large, but I know that Doctors can’t always believe everything their patients say). He said if I keep measuring large, he will want to order another ultrasound. He does not intend to change my due date, though. I asked my coworkers what good an ultrasound would be if you suspect a large baby and aren’t changing the due date. Their replies? C-section. No thank you! I am going to fight that one tooth-and-nail. God gave me birthing hips and I intend to use them. Hopefully it will not get to the point where the doctor would suggest such a horrible thing. If you are a praying person, please pray that this does not happen.
