Chapter 3: An Unexpected Development
Just returned from the park with the Tiddy Diddy ('diddy' is short for 'diddums' for those of you who don't speak the language Ridiculous), where I met a MOMMY FRIEND! Yay for MFs. This particular MF was so friendly, in fact, that I almost made her an assistant detective in the #1 P.W.T. Detective Agency. Except I don't think she's P.W.T. What gave it away you ask? Maybe it was the big Lexus SUV, but it could've been any number of things: her stroller, which I just saw in BabyTalk magazine for about $450, the designer-clad kids, or simply the statement, "I'm not a snob, but ..."
It started with me oohing and ahhing over her three-week old, who is suffering from acid reflux disorder (and a bad case of baby acne, I might add). I resisted the urge to say that maybe if she were breastfed this would not be an issue (yes, I asked if she was breastfed and I don't care if that's a nosy question to ask someone you just met). Anyway ... the MFAAPI (mommy friend almost assistant P.I.) was also trying to reign in her 2.5 year old, who was running around eating ashes from the barbeque grills while she said, "Shew-wee, yuck! No eat! That's gross and dangerous! Shew-wee, yuck!" all while describing the various childcare options in the area (seems daycares even in the ritzy suburbs are "scary places where the help's hair is always at least three different colors and they don't pull their pants up high enough so they can show off their tattoos."). It's a good thing I had on a hat and was standing behind the stroller.
Then the MFAAPI started talking about how her husband has pneumonia and is home sick from work and how it's just awful having him there while she's trying to live her life and how she can't wait until her maternity leave is over and how this is the first day they've ventured out of the house and "SHEW-WEE AUSTIN, GET THAT OUTTA YOUR MOUTH!" and how she's definitely waiting the full six weeks to start back on her diet and walking program and isn't it just too bad about my son's eczema and look at his cute little Gap outfit from last year's summer collection and then she took a breath and asked about me.
I mentioned that we live in the park, husband's a ranger, just got chickens, I'm a blog whore & P.I., etc.--you know, normal playground conversation. She replied, "Oh yeah, I used to walk at that park when I was pregnant and trying to go into labor and once we saw an owl there, isn't that right Austin?" Cue 2.5 year old wildabeast to begin mimicking an owl call and flapping his wings wildly. "And," she continued, "then we saw another owl at the baseball game the other night didn't we sweety pie?" Repeat scene with loud hooting and flapping but this time on top of the picnic table.
Now at this point, I am trying to remain composed and be subtle: "Oh really?" I said leisurely, "Was it a barred owl, brown with white bars, brown eyes, approximately 15-years old, about 1'2" and 11.7 lbs., with a hurt right wing, a yellow band around it's left foot, and covered in panty-nesting, human-attack mites?" Understatement and restraint are the keys to undercover work.
But before she could answer, she noticed that Austin had hitched their dog to his baby sister's stroller and was attempting to chariot-ride up the slide. I thought the interrogation would be cut short before she could make a positive I.D., but don't you dare underestimate the multi-tasking abilities of my MFAAPI. She never missed a beat: "Yeah, the lady said it was a barred owl."
I am now attempting to cover up my hyperventilation by doing the fake sneeze and hiccup which gets Big Laughs from The Goose but can also mask embarrassing public problems such as hyperventilation from various causes (usually wasp encounters, but this time from sheer disbelief at the serendipitous events unfolding before me).
"What lady?" I asked.
"The lady who had the owl there at the game."
"What did she look like?"
"Well, she was about your age, sorta nondescript, auburnish hair ... LET GO OF THE DOGGY AUSTIN ... actually, she sorta looked like you."
And then ladies and gentlemen, I was speechless for the very first time in my entire life. I had NOTHING to say, because not only did this totally undermine my original theory (which was that Ann Uno was the owlnapper), but also I was appalled that someone thought I resembled the alleged thief.
I thought and thought while I watched the MFAAPI coax the dog down from the top of the slide and Austin ran around yelling, "TEDDY GRAHAMS NOW TEDDY GRAHAMS NOW NOWNOW NOWNOWNOW!!!!!!!!!" It couldn't have been Ann Uno at that game because she CERTAINLY does not look like me. I mean, my hair may be coarse, but I use Aveda products to tame it, and I simply refuse to believe that I'm nondescript. Not knowing what else to do, I exited (gracefully of course) and wished her luck with the acid reflux acne baby and the wildabeast.
OK, so now I need your help dear reader, because not only am I at a loss about how to proceed with the investigation, but more importantly, there is the issue of what we can only call a KIMPOSTER on the loose.
If you have any advice or clues related to the Kimposter or the owlnapper, please contact the #1 P.W.T. Detective Agency immediately.
It started with me oohing and ahhing over her three-week old, who is suffering from acid reflux disorder (and a bad case of baby acne, I might add). I resisted the urge to say that maybe if she were breastfed this would not be an issue (yes, I asked if she was breastfed and I don't care if that's a nosy question to ask someone you just met). Anyway ... the MFAAPI (mommy friend almost assistant P.I.) was also trying to reign in her 2.5 year old, who was running around eating ashes from the barbeque grills while she said, "Shew-wee, yuck! No eat! That's gross and dangerous! Shew-wee, yuck!" all while describing the various childcare options in the area (seems daycares even in the ritzy suburbs are "scary places where the help's hair is always at least three different colors and they don't pull their pants up high enough so they can show off their tattoos."). It's a good thing I had on a hat and was standing behind the stroller.
Then the MFAAPI started talking about how her husband has pneumonia and is home sick from work and how it's just awful having him there while she's trying to live her life and how she can't wait until her maternity leave is over and how this is the first day they've ventured out of the house and "SHEW-WEE AUSTIN, GET THAT OUTTA YOUR MOUTH!" and how she's definitely waiting the full six weeks to start back on her diet and walking program and isn't it just too bad about my son's eczema and look at his cute little Gap outfit from last year's summer collection and then she took a breath and asked about me.
I mentioned that we live in the park, husband's a ranger, just got chickens, I'm a blog whore & P.I., etc.--you know, normal playground conversation. She replied, "Oh yeah, I used to walk at that park when I was pregnant and trying to go into labor and once we saw an owl there, isn't that right Austin?" Cue 2.5 year old wildabeast to begin mimicking an owl call and flapping his wings wildly. "And," she continued, "then we saw another owl at the baseball game the other night didn't we sweety pie?" Repeat scene with loud hooting and flapping but this time on top of the picnic table.
Now at this point, I am trying to remain composed and be subtle: "Oh really?" I said leisurely, "Was it a barred owl, brown with white bars, brown eyes, approximately 15-years old, about 1'2" and 11.7 lbs., with a hurt right wing, a yellow band around it's left foot, and covered in panty-nesting, human-attack mites?" Understatement and restraint are the keys to undercover work.
But before she could answer, she noticed that Austin had hitched their dog to his baby sister's stroller and was attempting to chariot-ride up the slide. I thought the interrogation would be cut short before she could make a positive I.D., but don't you dare underestimate the multi-tasking abilities of my MFAAPI. She never missed a beat: "Yeah, the lady said it was a barred owl."
I am now attempting to cover up my hyperventilation by doing the fake sneeze and hiccup which gets Big Laughs from The Goose but can also mask embarrassing public problems such as hyperventilation from various causes (usually wasp encounters, but this time from sheer disbelief at the serendipitous events unfolding before me).
"What lady?" I asked.
"The lady who had the owl there at the game."
"What did she look like?"
"Well, she was about your age, sorta nondescript, auburnish hair ... LET GO OF THE DOGGY AUSTIN ... actually, she sorta looked like you."
And then ladies and gentlemen, I was speechless for the very first time in my entire life. I had NOTHING to say, because not only did this totally undermine my original theory (which was that Ann Uno was the owlnapper), but also I was appalled that someone thought I resembled the alleged thief.
I thought and thought while I watched the MFAAPI coax the dog down from the top of the slide and Austin ran around yelling, "TEDDY GRAHAMS NOW TEDDY GRAHAMS NOW NOWNOW NOWNOWNOW!!!!!!!!!" It couldn't have been Ann Uno at that game because she CERTAINLY does not look like me. I mean, my hair may be coarse, but I use Aveda products to tame it, and I simply refuse to believe that I'm nondescript. Not knowing what else to do, I exited (gracefully of course) and wished her luck with the acid reflux acne baby and the wildabeast.
OK, so now I need your help dear reader, because not only am I at a loss about how to proceed with the investigation, but more importantly, there is the issue of what we can only call a KIMPOSTER on the loose.
If you have any advice or clues related to the Kimposter or the owlnapper, please contact the #1 P.W.T. Detective Agency immediately.
posted by Kimpossible @ 5/27/2005 12:10:00 PM
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