The Adventures of Sticky

First, I HAVE tried to update the blog, but the powers that be have stood in my path. So sorry, dudes. I also have been fighting an ear infection and fever, so I'm not really a fun person to have around. But I'm back, feeling 80% good, and ready to tell you the adventures of Sticky.

What is Sticky? Sticky is...well...a stick. I went to work this a.m., parked under a tree during the blowing monsoon and came back to a stick stuck in my window wiper blade. It was a nice stick, about 8 inches long. I went home (2 miles), the stick stayed put, enjoying the breeze and the sunshine after the monsoon left. The brats and I then drove to Friendly's for a dinner, and Sticky went along too. We then ran an errand in another town, traveling the highway, fighting city traffic--all with Sticky in tow.

On the way home, Little One says, "Mom, there's a stick on the windshield."
Me: "Why yes, it came from work."
LO: "You mean it's been there the whole time? Let's name it."
K-man pipes up: "We'll name it Stick."
LO: "Sticky! When we get home, he can come in the house and live with us."
Me: "Well, let's keep in mind it might fall off."
LO (in tears): "Mom! Stop and get Sticky. He can't fall off."
K-man: "Yeah, or drive slower. I think you're going too fast."
Me: "I'm NOT getting the stick. Maybe he will decide he likes living here better, and jump off and make a new home." That sounded good to me, but the kids weren't impressed.

So we drive. The children are in the back, intently staring at the darned stick on the windshield.

LO: "Sticky, HANG ON! We're almost home!"
K-man: "Yeah, I still think you need to drive slower, Mom."

By this time, we're about 5 minutes from home. I have now joined the children in watching the stick in the windshield wiper. Sticky is merrily enjoying the wind on his stick parts. We stop for a red-light, and Sticky lays down. LO is sure he's exhausted from hanging on. "Are we home yet? Hang on, Sticky, we're almost there!"

We turn off, the last little road to home (about 1/4 mile, on a backroad). The sun is blazing into the windshield. There's a liberal coating of dirt and rainspots, and I unthinkingly squirt the fluid and turn on the wipers. Sticky goes sailing into the breeze, after a 30 mile journey on my wiperblade.

ME: "OMG, I killed Sticky!"
LO wails. Even K-man is upset. "How could you kill Sticky! Mom, go get him!"

So I pull over into the cemetery and get out, soothing the children. I lock the car, and run down the road looking for Sticky. Until it dawned on me--what in HELL was I doing? Where the HELL was the crazy dudes to haul me off to basket class? I searched quickly, picked up a stick (too long) picked up another and brought it back to the car triumphantly. "Here's Sticky!"
LO: "That's NOT Sticky, he had a curve in him."
K-man comes to his senses. "I can't believe you went looking for a stick." (Neither can I).
Me:"Well, Sticky must have wanted to live here, so he's not around."
K-man: "Well, you launched him into the bushes, Mom. Why did you turn on your washers anyway?" (Sure, make me look like the bad guy.)
Me: "Because it's important to be able to see? What's more important--the stick, or us surviving the trip home."
The Brats say in unison, "The stick."
I go to throw the wrong stick out. LO wails again. "We can take that one home! Make him our new Sticky!"

So that is how I came to have a stick in my living room. It's with the deer antler the senile dog found me years ago. Let's hope Sticky doesn't have any more adventures--today about wore me out.