Thursday, January 20, 2011

Code 4

It finally happened.  I know what Code 4 is!  I think.  I'm assuming at least. 
Picture it--a calm Thursday evening after school.  I'm content after having straightened the house, finished getting dinner ready, and getting the children's homework done, which is most of the time MY homework.  I'm enjoying a relaxing moment in my bedroom checking emails, reading the news, listening to my boys play the PS3, Kindsay is quietly lying in her bed, and Bek is at work.  Greg should be home at any time, and life is good.  errrrrrrrr!  Screeching halt when the doorbell rings.  My boys come barreling down the hall in urgent whispers, "MOM, there's a police at our door!"  It's been nothing but quiet in my house, so this was really weird.  I mean, if Kindsay were in her raging moods and the neighbors heard and called someone to check on us, I would say, "Is everything alright you ask??  Great!  The usual!"  HOWEVER, that wasn't the case, so I felt completely willing to help the officer with whatever he needed.  Perhaps he needed a sponser for a fund raiser (who knows?), maybe he had some questions about my next door neighbor's fire alarm going off for no reason again (though I didn't hear it), maybe he just wanted to tell me what a great citizen I am.  I turn the corner towards the front door, still feeling leery and guilty like they'll drag me away for some song my kid downloaded one time.  Hey, usually I'd say, take me with the siren on, but tonight was a nice night...what's going on?  I begin to open the door to face the cop when I turn behind me to see Kindsay backing up slowly with the look of "UH OHHHHHHH."  I knew right then.  Kindsay, what did you do???  "Sorry, mom, sorry."  I face the officer with a smile like we're all normal, nothing to see here.  "Good evening Ma'am, is there anything wrong here, we got a 9-1-1 call from your house."  I turn back to Kindsay she's still backing up ever so slowly, hands in her mouth chewing what's left of her stubby nails, hair askew as though an animal were building something in it, and her robe was barely closed around her Spring Break outfit.  "Officer, I'm terribly sorry.  Kindsay, come here."  As the officer gave a "Code 4" into the radio on his shoulder, I had her face the cop herself, she had to own this!  He explained to her that when she accidently calls 9-1-1, it's okay, but when the police call back to confirm an emergency and you answer the phone, make some freaked out noises and hang up, they assume there's a problem and send someone out.  Next time, he tells her, just answer the phone and tell the dispatcher there's no problem.  I said, "What do you say to the officer?"  She responds, "ok."  No, apologize. 
Now, if I had gotten in trouble to where I summoned a CPD to my house, I would probably be on my best behavior the rest of the night after the close call.  NO, oh no, not Kindsay.  The moment I shut the door she empties out my emergency dinner Costco box of Dino Chicken Nuggets onto a plate (there were probably 30-40), and stuck the plate into the microwave and hit start.  The nuggets were all stacked on each other in frozen stuckness which would take more than a few microwave minutes to make even slightly edible.  I come in the kitchen, the annoyance of the recent incident slipping out of my mind, when I see the chicken coop in the microwave.  At that moment Greg walked in.  YES! Tag!  You're it..I can't finish this round!  "Greg," I say, "Kindsay just called 9-1-1, hung up on the police, and we had a cop at our door, now she's got that going..." I point to the massive amount of food cooking.  Greg went from "ah, so happy to be home" to "what's wrong with my genes?"  Needless to say, Greg summarized the last five minutes of Kindsay's life in complete astonishment, aggravation, and outerworldly amazement while she sunk into her robe.  Though I had dinner going, guess what all the kids ate instead?  So glad I spent the time and money.  With resignation, I zombie-walked back to my room, closed my door, and locked it in an attempt to fall back into my blissful evening.  I mean, what else could happen?  Am I so naive?


Carroll Berrett said...

Yvette, I am so sorry for what you had to go through. But I have to tell you that when I see that you updated your blog I get all excited to read it and it never fails to make me laugh so hard I cry. You have a gift with words and the way you tell stories. Thank you for sharing your amazing life! Love you guys.

Pamela Asbury (velvet) said...

Yvette: I'm your mom's cousin Pam, and I'm just like the lady who wrote the other comment. I also can't wait to see what you write next. Regarding the comment your husband wrote about genes. I have a good friend I've had since the age of 13. She moved in Orem, Utah in 1992. We still keep in touch. While growing up, my dad who was not Mormon by the way, used to say the mormons were crazy from marrying second and third cousins in their background. (Like royalty did, huh?). Anyway, she worked for years at at school for troubled kids in Orem, and one time when a kid got in trouble there Georgia told me, "Well, my ancestors didn't come from an area along this specific river, so my ancestors were not from the crazy bunch of mormon section. Ha! Her mom was the good mormon that came from Missouri and her dad, George Benson was related to Ezra Taft Benson and definitely was not a good mormon. You really can write well and your humor in telling about your family life is hilarious. We all have our trials and blessings in different ways, and Kindsey's growing up years you are able to turn around and make the things she says and does hysterically funny! Are you too young to remeber the humorist Emma Brombeck? She became famous for her books on family life and the humorous situations around her kids the their different situations. Your second counsin Steve, my 2nd son, is also really funny. He and his sister Andrea are only 2 years apart and she told me the other day he can really throw out the one-liners. As his mother I see him more serious, but a sense of humor is so necessary and those who have a good one can really add to people's lives. I read once, that a person who can find humor around them and make situations funny, that is a sign of a high I.Q. So there Yvette, that's you! Please keep up the posts, they are so intertaining. I've recently got into the study of nutrition and how what we eat, our spiritual outlook, and our environment really shapes us, and sometimes the big drug companies would rather dispense drugs, and doctors today are sooo busy they hardly have time to keep up with the latest journals and besides, they only have to take a small number of courses in nutrition. However, I do believe when they and psycholgists have about 16 years of college we may have to step out in faith sometimes and listen to them, but God gave me a brain and I believe he wants me to use it. I question everything and am very analytical by nature. I know that I'm rambling here but I'm retired now and it's my priviledge to ramble now if I want to, I've paid my dues! We are all like snowflakes, each one different, thank God, and we all have something to offer! Viva la differance! I believe children are all so special, each one in their own special way teaches us something, and people that get to work with them are blessed. I too worked for the Superintendant of Schools in special education in about 1984. I was the secretary in special ed for two supervisors. One in special adapted P.E. and the other over speech.
Please keep up those cute posts!

Pamela Asbury (velvet) said...

Whoops, I'm wrong! I meant to say your grandmother's cousin. Hey, I've been doing geneology lately. We are related to Peter Nebeker, known as the "rugged one." He was one of seven brothers, friends of Brigham Young. He led a wagon train of 400 people to the Salt Lake Valley. He was the son of a man who had 10 boys and 3 girls. There is a story on the internet about them. I found it the other day. Your great-great grandmother was Thursa Mariah, her mom was Thursia Nebeker and her father was Peter. So interesting . . . Now that I've been retired since 1998 I notice my spelling and puncuation are not as good as they used to be. Oh well, I'm not dead yet and plan to keep on truckin for quite a number of years yet.