Thursday, November 08, 2007

The Saga of the SuperBall

I live on a hill. It's not a big hill, but it's a decent grade. The whole town is on the foothills. I was out in the garage yesterday afternoon, again attempting to unpack the remaining 20 or so boxes that we just haven't gotten to, and probably don't care about the contents. Brian wants to start parking in the garage soon, since those 25 degree mornings leave a nice layer of ice on the car. So, yesterday I'm in the garage, and the kids come out with me. Caitlin wanted to bring her superball. It's just a little thing, not quite small enough to eat, is a clear yellow and has a cute happy face on it. I told her oh, close to a thousand times do not bring your superball outside. You will lose it. But, being Caitlin, at almost 22 months, she brought it out anyway. About oh, 12 seconds passed before I heard screams and saw running kids. Brandon at least stopped before running out into the street. I had to grab Caitlin. And then I saw it - a small ball bouncing quite well down the street.

There I was. Standing on our street, helplessly watching the superball bounce away to a better life, with two hysterical, screaming kids at my side. Lately, when Brandon cries, he puts at least one hand in his mouth, and then tries to talk. Why? Who knows. Put your fingers in your mouth, cry hysterically, and try to talk. It doesn't work well. Brandon doesn't really get this, and gets even more hysterical when I can't understand him. At that point Caitlin had had enough, and started heading down the street after the ball. So did Brandon. In my pathetic attempt to be seen as a good mom, I followed after them. Only because I have to. All the way down the hill Brandon cried, hand in mouth, If we find the ball then I'll stop crying. If we don't find the ball, I'll never be happy again! So much for not wearing his heart on his sleeve. His wet, slobbery, tear-laden sleeve. We finally got to the bottom of the hill, ignoring the neighbors peeking at us through their blinds, wondering, no doubt, how I could let my kids scream like that, and probably also wondering why I was wearing slippers.

And then, a miracle! There it was! Joy upon all joy! The superball had bounced into the lawn of the house at the bottom of the hill. I have no idea how I saw it, being slightly yellow, small, and immersed in dying grass and leaves, but I did. Finally Brandon can be happy again! Mankind is saved! Mommy found the superball!

1 comment:

Jodi said...

I once went back and searched an entire huge field on the 5th of July, after my son couldn't find his very special, stuffed puppy he thought he lost at the fireworks show the night before. We found that dang puppy later, hiding in our house somewhere (even though we looked everywhere!).