Isabelle -5- Lesley -0-

I thought I would share this little golden nugget of life with all of you, my friends and family. It’s a life lesson, and if nothing else a chuckle at my expense.

Just when you think you've thought of everything, your kids proves you wrong. I'm sure by now all of you have heard my embarrassing story about leaving Isabelle in the car while I washed it so that I could keep her contained while keeping an eye on her. She loves to sit in the front seats and play with the radio and a/c buttons. I quickly learned that I was an IDIOT because it didn't take her long to find the keys and stick them in the ignition (although the wrong key) but that’s besides the point. After taking away the keys, I noticed she was retrieving the ink pens out of the glove box. Needless to say play time in the car was over and I put her to work washing the tires. Award for subpar mother goes tooooooooo....(drum roll) Lesley Noel!!!!!!!

So, this weekend, after making sure that pens, keys, and any other potentially destructive materials were removed from the vehicle, Keith and I kept the doors open and allowed her to play with the dash buttons as we unloaded groceries from the car. Back hatch open, running back and forth taking bags from the rear of the van, when all of a sudden the garage door begins to descend!!!! Did I mention that I wasn't pulled into the garage all the way and the back hatch was open??? So as I panic, and practically meltdown right there, Kieth runs for the garage door (takes a quick detour into a phonebooth) and turns into Superman and takes the stance, as he attempts to outwit the garage door to keep it from damaging the van... no luck. Apparently Keith has nothing on 50 pounds of steel on a mission. It is beyond me how the damn thing will stop in mid air if it even senses a tennis ball in its path, but a van door and Keith??? Good grief. Finally, I hear what Keith has been repeating for the past 15 seconds ("HIT THE BUTTON, HIT THE BUTTON, HURRY HURRY HURRY, HIT THE F*$&ING BUTTON LESLEY") As he crumbles beneath the descending door. I finally manage to hit the button on the wall and we survey the damage, scrapes all over the hatch door, warranting a visit to the body shop this week so that the defects don't rust...and now the garage door won't close completely, it is about 2 inches from the ground on the right side, Keith is hoping it will just fix itself over time... classic Keith, living in denial that we must call the repairman... just like the sliding glass doors that could not be repaired because HE ALREADY DID EVERYTHING that the repairman would do... so I call the repair man ANYWAY and now they slide like they are on clouds, vs. the 200 pound doors they used to be... Another lesson learned, DON’T LEAVE THE GARAGE DOOR GENIE IN THE VEHICLE FOR ISABELLE TO PLAY WITH and NEVER LISTEN TO YOUR HUSBAND... call the repairman...

PS. this weekend Isabelle asked for a drink. When I got to the fridge I asked her what she wanted and she responded, "coke" I said, kids don’t drink coke, what else do you want, to which she replied, "wine". I'm baffled, thinking where did she learn this?? We never talk about coke and we don't have the first bottle of wine in our house.... As it turns out, Isabelle plays with the contents of Aunt Etta's fridge monday through friday and they talk about everything that she keeps in there.... so anyway, I gave her grape juice.