woke up this morning, got yourself a gun. Mama always said, you’d be the Chosen one.

To prevent me from getting shot in the head at Wal Greens, this entire entry is “fiction.”  It is “all made up in my head.”  It “really didn’t happen.”

Got it? 

Let’s say that Saturday, Bram had a birthday party to attend.  It is a little boy that may or may not be in his class and the party was at this little boy’s home.  On the invite their was no address/no phone number.  The mother possibly gave me the directions on the Thursday prior to the party.  Still no address, just directions, “turn left right before you get to the railroad tracks.”

In my head, we arrived at the party.  A HUGE house on the lake, $150,000 Mercedes in the garage, $250,000 motor home in the “other garage.” Two boats, two jet skis.  Trampoline.  Biggest playscape I have ever seen in my whole entire life. 

In the boat house, there could of been not one but TWO 62 inch plasma flat screens, an air hockey table, a pool table, two sitting areas with plush leather couches.  The reason I got to see the boat house was because when I asked if Bram could use the bathroom, both parents immediately and in unison said, “Go to the boat house!”  Not the real house, which was two steps away.  Weird, huh? So nobody got to go into the house.  At all.  Hmmmm, something to think about.  I was really wanting to get to scope out their fat pad.

Or it would of been a fat pad if it actually existed.  Just sayin’.

For activities at this party the boys entertained themselves on one of 20 motorized riding vehicles.

1 of 20.

Maybe.

They had little motorized Mini Coopers, Escalades, motorcycles, John Deeres…..the list was endless! 

Then they shut their gate “to make sure the kids don’t ride out into the street.”  This is when I kind of panicked.  I was certain we were all going to be tied up and sold into some mafia slavery ring.  I checked out my surroundings and saw that I could jump in and swim across the canal to the neighbors house if shit went down.

Bram would be able to make it, he’s a strong swimmer.  Tess would of been left to fend for herself.  She doesn’t like to get water in her eyes.  Lucky for her she is small and could of scrunched down in a cabinet or what not.

In this fantasy, my Mom was there, and to make matters worse and the anxiety to elevate, she leans over and says,”OH SHIT.  THEY SHUT THE GATE.”  She thought this was funny. 

Until I started taking of my shoes and cardigan in preparation for some Michael Phelps style speed swimming.

As we were watching the birthday boy open his presents, his mother (whose is a tiny little thing from Romania) told me that they were putting the house on the market and moving to Vegas.

“Vegas?” I asked. 

“Yes, allergies are just too bad here.” she replied.

Really, Carmela?  Allergies?  You are going to pick up and move to Vegas because one of your three children are suffering from allergies?

In my mind, I am nosy.  So I snooped further……

“Can your husband transfer easily?”  I asked.

“Oh, yes.  We work out of the house.” Carmela replied.

“What kind of business are you in?” I nervously asked.  Yes, I was really putting my life on the limb to ask such questions.

“Fireworks.” she replied.

YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME.  She might as well of said, “Waste Management.”  It is so mafia.  I am ON TO THEM!

If you could see the husband, well if this guy truly existed, he would fit the bill of somebody doing something a little shady.  Chains galore, Dolce and Gabana sweater (the kind with the big D & G on the front), HUGE Rolex, thick New York/Bronx accent.  Awesome.  I kind of wanted to call him Tony, you know, just to get a reaction out of him.  But I decided that might be too risky.

The entire “day dream” was an adventure. 

Nice people, very nice.  Great parents, very welcoming.  It made for an exciting imaginary Saturday. 

I just hope they are “Coco’s Cuckoo World” readers.  That would be bad. 

Very bad.