SAHM I Am

by Meredith Efken

  From:

  Dulcie Huckleberry

  To:

  SAHM I Am

  Subject:

  Turn on your TVs! (warning, LONG post!)

  * * *

  Hey everybody!

  Greetings from Kansas City—where me and the girls are spending the week with DH Tom doing some Christmas shopping and relaxing. You all have to watch Newsline two weeks from tomorrow, because I’M ON THE SHOW!

  See, it all happened like this:

  Tom was working so I decided to take the girls and brave Crown Center by ourselves. For those of you who have never been to KC, Crown Center is the home of Hallmark Cards, and there’s a huge shopping mall and a science center for kids, and all sorts of great activities. The plan was to go after lunch so that the girls would fall asleep in the stroller (I’ve got a three-seater. Looks like a bus!) and I could get shopping done. Then we were to meet Tom at the Crayola Café at 5:30 so we could do the kids’ stuff after supper. Great plan, right?

  Well, everything was going along perfectly. The children fell asleep in the stroller right on cue, even McKenzie who normally would be too interested in everything around her. And they STAYED asleep, even with all the noise and bustle. That should have been my first clue that something was soon to go horribly wrong. :)

  I got tons of shopping done—hit a few good sales, was feeling very proud and self-sufficient. About 4:45, decided I didn’t want to haul all my purchases to the restaurant with me, and headed toward the parking garage to deposit everything in the car. So far, so good, right?

  Okay, so we’re parked in the farthest, most forgotten corner of the garage. I reach the car at last, and pull the stroller alongside the car so I can unlock the trunk. I have all the shopping bags set on the ground next to the trunk, which is now open.

  I’m just about to reach for the bags to put them in the trunk, when out of nowhere, this guy walks past me and swipes all my bags! I don’t know how he did it so fast, but then he takes off running!

  Oh, I was steamed! All that work, all that money, and he thought he could just walk off with it? Not around THIS MAMA!

  I couldn’t tell you now how it happened, but somehow I must have reached into the trunk and the first thing I touched was a crowbar. Before I knew it, that crowbar hopped into my hand and flung itself after the thief! It hit him square in the back of his head, and he dropped like a rock!

  So, here I am, all alone in this parking garage, with three sleeping children and a thief whom I feared I may have killed by accident, and all my Christmas presents scattered around him. I didn’t know what to do!

  I glanced up and saw a fire alarm on the wall. I figured I didn’t have much choice, so I pulled it. Of course, that set off a huge noise, which woke the children, and brought me lots and lots of company real quick. I was NOT alone anymore.:) Meanwhile, Mr. Sticky Fingers is still laid out on the concrete, and I could see a huge gash in the back of his head. I was just hoping he didn’t bleed all over Haley’s new Christmas dress!

  The security guards came. And the police came. And the fire trucks came. The first person to find us was one of the firefighters. His name is Eric, and he is divorced with eight children, and he likes to eat sushi.

  But I digress…

  I explained to Eric about the fire alarm and showed him the man I’d KO’d. The rest of his crew radioed everyone to let them know there wasn’t a fire, but by then, of course, the police were there and all the news media. The firefighters gave first aid to the man, who was not all that badly injured after all. A police officer—don’t know his name, as he was considerably less friendly than Firefighter Eric—took all my shopping bags and wouldn’t give them back. It occurred to me then that I should be a bit worried about what might happen to me for assaulting the would-be package snatcher. Would it be considered self-defense? Or would his family sue me? Was it against the law to pull a fire alarm when there was no fire? If the grumpy-looking officer decided to arrest me, would he wait for Tom to get there to take the girls?

  I suddenly had this vision of me sitting in some gloomy prison cell trying to entertain three unhappy and frightened children. I don’t know what was more disturbing—the thought of incarceration itself, or being locked in there with grouchy kids!

  Anyway, it took me forever to explain to the police what had happened. They did not arrest me, though it seemed that Officer Grumpky looked a bit disappointed about that. Sticky Fingers, it turns out, is the most wanted parking-lot thief in the Kansas City metro area, so after he recovers from his concussion, he’s going to jail.

  The officers wanted to keep all my stuff I bought as evidence, but they settled for photographing everything instead. By this time, I’d been interviewed by several TV reporters and it was well past 5:30. The girls were getting really fussy and hungry, and I could just imagine how irate Tom would be by now, waiting for us in the café all by himself.

  But just as I was beginning to think we’d never be allowed to leave, there came Tom, practically running toward us, pushing everyone out of the way.

  “Dulcie!” He grabbed me and gave me such a tight hug I could hardly breathe. “You okay?”

  McKenzie piped up, “Mommy killed a bad man who tried to take all our presents, just like the Grinch Who Stole Christmas, and lots of police and fire trucks came. And now they’re just standing around talking. I’m hungry, can we eat soon?”

  “I didn’t kill him.” I corrected her. “I…made him go to sleep for a while.”

  “You won’t make me go to sleep that way, will you?”

  Even Officer Grumpky smiled at that one.

  “Never, sweetie,” I told her. Then I asked Tom, “How did you know where we were?”

  He shrugged. “Some firefighter came and told me.”

  It had to have been Eric—come to think of it, I had mentioned we were supposed to meet Tom in the Crayola Café. How kind of him to find Tom for me!

  One of the reporters stopped Tom and asked him what he thought about his wife helping to capture one of the busiest thieves in KC. Tom grinned at me and replied, “My wife’s throwing arm is almost legendary. You don’t want to get in the path of any of her projectiles.”

  Oh, great. The reporter lifts her eyebrows and says, “I take it you speak from personal experience?”

  I’m standing there thinking, Please, oh please, don’t mention the episode with the apple and the black eye!

  Tom puts his arm around my shoulders and squeezes. “Only the sort that comes from playing softball with an apple.”

  Whew! Sometimes, I just LOVE my husband. (Well, actually, I love him all the time…but you know what I mean.) Anyway, the reporter gave us a weird look but didn’t ask any more questions.

  It was nearly 6:30 by the time we finally got to the restaurant. And when we returned to the hotel, there was a message on our answering machine from Brenda Walkers, with Newsline, asking me to call her! It turns out, they were in KC this week doing a news story about shopping mall theft during the holidays, and had spoken with the police and some of the victims of the man I caught. So tomorrow morning I’m supposed to have an interview with her in the meeting room here, and they’re planning to air the show in two weeks!

  Plus, one of the mall executives walked up to us at dinner and told me that Hallmark was offering a reward for information leading to the arrest of anybody in connection with parking lot theft, so I also got that and a whole bunch of gift certificates for various shops and restaurants!

  We watched the local news at 10 this evening, even let McKenzie stay up for it. She thought it was so cool to see us on TV. I thought it was pretty cool myself.

  Sorry for the LONG e-mail, but I just had to tell you all what happened. Besides, I’m too wound up to go to sleep. Tom’s already snoring away in bed. How DO guys do that?

  Dulcie

  * * *

  From:

  Zelia Muzuwa

  To:

>   “Green Eggs and Ham”

  Subject:

  Re: [SAHM I AM] Turn on your TVs! (warning, LONG post!)

  * * *

  No fair, Dulcie! When Griffith stuck his head in the kitty post, we only made local news. Where was Brenda Walkers THEN? :)

  With media envy,

  Z

  * * *

  From:

  Connie Lawson

  To:

  SAHM I Am

  Subject:

  Re: [SAHM I AM] Turn on your TVs! (warning, LONG post!)

  * * *

  Dulcie, I am SO glad you are all right! You and your children could have been seriously injured. If it had been me, I would have let him take the bags. No amount of purchases are worth risking your life for. What if he’d had a gun?

  But this is a good time to bring up the subject of shopping mall safety. I’ve attached a list of good rules we all should follow when out shopping, especially during the holiday season. I trust you all will take this lesson to heart and practice common sense.

  And I’m sure that Dulcie and her family will be thanking God with greater appreciation this Christmas for the blessing of being together and safe. I just shudder to think of what could have happened to you!

  I really hope you don’t get sued or anything. You had better contact your lawyer just in case. These days, people will sue even when they were in the wrong. It’s crazy.

  Blessings,

  Connie

  * * *

  From:

  Rosalyn Ebberly

  To:

  SAHM I Am

  Subject:

  Re: [SAHM I AM] Turn on your TVs! (warning, LONG post!)

  * * *

  Dulcie’s story is a perfect illustration of what consumerism and materialism have done to our nation. Years ago, before Christmas became such a time of greed and selfishness, nobody would have dreamed of stealing somebody’s shopping bags. And even if they had, the person would have been reasonable enough to let them go. After all, material possessions simply aren’t that important. If we weren’t letting our secular culture propel us to the mall, we wouldn’t ever have to face a situation like Dulcie’s. I hope this wakens all of you to the evils of our modern Christmas celebration and helps inspire you to put Christ back in Christmas.

  Much joy,

  Rosalyn

  “She looks well to the ways of her household, and does not eat the bread of idleness.”

  Proverbs 31:27 (NASB)

  * * *

  From:

  Dulcie Huckleberry

  To:

  “Green Eggs and Ham”

  Subject:

  How the mighty have fallen…

  * * *

  Hey girls,

  I’m only sending this to the four of you because I just couldn’t bear to put up with Rosalyn’s comments if she finds out. It’s Saturday night, and we just returned from Tom’s company’s Christmas party. He’s out taking the babysitter home—hope he doesn’t get lost.

  To catch you up, the interview with Brenda Walkers went great. Maybe a little too great. I think my head was starting to swell with all the attention. I have to admit, I enjoyed being the hero. Everyone kept telling me how wonderful I was and how brave and smart. I must have begun to believe it.

  Now, however, I know better. I am not wonderful, brave or smart. In fact, I have a strong suspicion I am actually rather stupid.

  Today started out beautifully. I had everything arranged so I’d be ready to go to the party. I know it’s just an office party, but it was black-tie, and it’s about the only chance I’ve had all year to really dress up. You’d think I was going to my high school prom with all my primping and preening. And I looked pretty good, extra poundage aside. I’d even bought a new dress for the occasion—a long, draping number made out of this shimmery red fabric that swishes when you walk.

  Tom looked great, too—rented a tux and everything. Mmm, Mmm, good! :) And he bought me these gorgeous scarlet roses with edges dipped in gold glitter. I pinned a couple in my hair, and it was just the right touch. He picked up the babysitter and brought her back to the hotel, and we were ready to go.

  The party was at another hotel in their ballroom, and when we arrived, we got our picture taken. (I was a little miffed that the camera didn’t make me look thinner….) The ballroom was like a fairyland. There were flocked Christmas trees all around, and glittery snowflakes suspended from the ceiling. In one corner, three tables were loaded with just about any bite-size dessert you could imagine. Think the Land of Sweets from the Nutcracker ballet, okay? Everything was so beautiful!

  We had lobster for dinner, and I finally met the romance girls—Michelle, Kelly and Justine. Tom introduced me to his supervisors, Bruce and Chris, and the other programmers, and they all commented about seeing me on television on Wednesday night.

  After dinner, it was Tom, me, Michelle, Kelly, and a few other programmers standing around chatting. Michelle and Kelly, of course, had to bring up Tom’s supposed choices of reading material. They were gushing about how all men should read romances because it makes them “so in touch with male-female relationships.” I just wanted to roll my eyes. They don’t have a clue! If Tom was so great with relationships, then we wouldn’t be having so many problems. And I couldn’t believe it that he is STILL letting them think he actually reads romances. He never reads any novels! The guys were teasing him about it, but he was just soaking up all the girls’ compliments, which made me a bit grouchy.

  He suggested to me that we get our picture taken together, but Michelle said, “Wait, I want to hear about Dulcie catching the thief at the mall!”

  Why didn’t I tell her to take a hike, that I wanted to be with my husband? Because I was grumpy and jealous of Tom, that’s why. But I wish I hadn’t stayed. I wish I’d never even seen that man in the mall. Or that I’d let him take the dumb packages and be happy. Because I’m quite sure the following never would have happened if I hadn’t been so high on all the fussing and heroworship.

  I told the little group all about knocking out the thief, and about Newsline and Brenda Walkers. They were impressed, to say the least. The two girls were looking at me like I was a celebrity or something, and the guys were…well, as far as I can figure, they were flirting with me! Finally one of the guys grinned at me and said, “Wow, Dulcie. You travel with children, you take them shopping at Crown Center by yourself, and Tom tells me you do house repairs and interior decorating. And you even catch criminals. Is there anything you don’t do?”

  You guys, I’m so ashamed to tell you this part. I don’t know where it came from or anything, and if I could take it back, I would. But I simpered up at him and said in my coyest voice, “Well, I certainly don’t read romance novels.”

  It took a few seconds for my comment to sink in with Michelle and Kelly. I’d like to blame that on the visits they’d taken to the cash bar, but I’m not sure it would have been any different if they’d been totally sober. (See, even now I’m being a catty snipe.) :( Their smiles disappeared and their mouths dropped open, like, “Hey, you just insulted me!” They didn’t talk to me the rest of the evening. But every once in a while, I’d see them looking over at me with this confused expression, like “What did I do to you?”

  But worse was Tom. Here he’d already put up with teasing from his co-workers, and then he got clotheslined by his own wife—in front of everybody! I know perfectly well why he chats with those girls about their relationships. They treat him like an expert, like their own little key into the male mind. He gets to explain to them why men act the way they do, and they actually listen and respect his viewpoint.

  When I glanced up at him, he looked stunned…and then, ashamed. And even betrayed. I wish he’d been angry. I’d rather have dealt with anger than this…whatever it is. He laughed a little at what I said, and I don’t think the other guys saw how it hurt him. But I saw. His shou
lders slumped the rest of the evening. We actually didn’t stay long after that. He said he was tired, but I know what was really the matter. I tried to talk about it with him, tried to apologize for teasing him. He just brushed it off and said it was no big deal. That he didn’t really like talking to them anyway.

  But I’m afraid I really, really hurt him. Seven words! Seven of the stupidest, most callous words in the world, and they came out of MY mouth! Why did I try to make a crack like that? What’s wrong with me? I love Tom! I’m not normally such a jerk.

  I don’t know how to go about making this right, either. You can’t just take back something so snide. I wish I’d stayed in Omaha and never come at all.

  Now you know the real me. All the dirty laundry. I don’t like myself very much right now, so I don’t expect you to, either. Good grief, why didn’t I hold my tongue?

  Dulcie

  * * *

  From:

  VIM

  To:

  Rosalyn Ebberly

  Subject:

  Re: Christmas Party

  * * *