Tuesday, February 9, 2010

The misadventures of miss addie

Sunday we busied ourselves with Super Bowl preparations. In the kitchen, I was working like a well oiled machine, whipping up some killer dishes. Justin was completing his standard floor cleaning duties. Addison sweetly asked her dad to let her go outside. Everyone knows that with one bat of Addie's lashes, Dad is putty in her hand. Our backyard is fenced and secure, so Justin bundled her up and let her roam around solo. There I was, elbows-deep (well, not really) in mozzarella, alfredo and cream cheese when it happened--Justin screams at me--


On motherly instinct, I barrel out the door, full speed, ready to fight to the death with a rabid squirrel that may or may not be clawing my toddler's eyes out. I don't stop to ponder how in the world a two-year-old blessed with my genes could be fast enough to trap a squirrel. I just charge ahead at Addison, flailing my arms and screaming "Drop the Squirrel! DROP the squirrel." Addison turns to me, wide-eyed. She has the squirrel tucked up under her arm, like a stuffed animal she might lug around the house. Upon seeing her mother come at her like a freight train, she whips the squirrel out from under her arm and chucks its lifeless body to the side. That's right, folks. My daughter was toting around a squirrel carcass.

I rush her inside. Luckily she was wearing gloves and her overstuffed coat. Justin strips her and attempts to sanitize, in case any squirrel germs somehow leaked through her layers of clothing.

The rest of the day I am checking for symptoms of the bubonic plague. When I pick her up from the sitter's yesterday, her sitter comments on how strangely she was behaving. I tell her my plague theory and we brainstorm about possible other problems that said squirrel could have transfered to my daughter. She convinces me that its all in my head and Addie is just probably tired.

Later that night, our sitter calls. "Do you think Addie might have licked the squirrel?" Oh, shit. What do I do now? I wonder what will happen when the doctor reads 'Reason for Visit: My child may or may not have licked a squirrel carcass...." Yep, thats going to go well.


  1. You make my day, Miss Addie. I hope she did not lick the squirrel.

  2. Miss Addie needs to star in her own children's book series called "The Misadventures of Miss Addie" and this particular book would be titled, "Don't lick the squirrel". Get on that Sarah!