Boerne, Texas is a quaint Hill Country spot with seldom more than cattle rustling and petty crime. Although recently a local doctor, riding his cycle, was hit and killed. A terrible series of events, but not premeditated.
I've lived in the area for about five years and traditionally most people leave their homes and cars unlocked. Granted I live outside the city limits and if you are dumb enough to come gallivanting on my property, you are likely to be shot by my trusty ol' 12 gauge whom we've aptly names ”Ouch.” [Can you whom a gun? Oh where is Kris Wickerham when I need him?]
My children do not encounter thievery and certainly wouldn't be able to identify a hoodlum. It is possible they would be able to point out a prostitute, as they did go swimsuit shopping with me (see blog entry A Perfect 10). Once Brett tried to steal something from the store that I refused to purchase for him and I know the event was memorable enough to avoid, at least until puberty.
I know, I know, LAND THE DARN PLANE....We stayed at the Embassy Suites off IH-10 in Baton Rouge. Arriving tired and ready to swim. Ok, the kids were ready to swim. I grab my homework (Sophocles-The Three Theban Plays) and the kids. We wait fifteen minutes for an elevator (slight exaggeration), arriving at the loudest pool in all of my life. There are children running everywhere, deafening screams, and no pool towels.
I ask the front desk for towels about 45 minutes later. My kids decide the noise level at the pool is too distracting(no exaggeration). Grabbing a towel we quickly exit to the elevator and wait fifteen minutes to ride up three floors.
This morning we are walking out to breakfast and realize their shoes were left at the pool last night. Thadd heads to the pool. No SHOES. The front desk also has no shoes. The kids are sad, hurt, betrayed. I'm furious, mostly at myself for forgetting to check their feet last night. I also forgot our electric toothbrush and my husband's cord to his electric razor. I'm on a roll.
The kids ask questions about why someone would take their shoes. My vigilante, Chloe, says she will fight to the death for her shoes. Thadd says,” ... someone obviously needed them more than you...” I nod my head in agreement with my husband, but I'm certain if I'd left my Sophocles book it would still be sitting on the table.
The lesson my kids learned today is people steal; not everyone is good and kind. They also learned not to leave their chanclas (flip flops) at the pool. I learned not to lend my flip flops to my daughter, EVER! I'm sure by tomorrow I'll change my mind. Oh wait, she is wearing ANOTHER pair of my shoes. Oh darn.
My deepest condolences go out to the Becker family who lost a wonderful and godly man. May Dr. Becker's life be celebrated for the great legacy he leaves behind.
I've lived in the area for about five years and traditionally most people leave their homes and cars unlocked. Granted I live outside the city limits and if you are dumb enough to come gallivanting on my property, you are likely to be shot by my trusty ol' 12 gauge whom we've aptly names ”Ouch.” [Can you whom a gun? Oh where is Kris Wickerham when I need him?]
My children do not encounter thievery and certainly wouldn't be able to identify a hoodlum. It is possible they would be able to point out a prostitute, as they did go swimsuit shopping with me (see blog entry A Perfect 10). Once Brett tried to steal something from the store that I refused to purchase for him and I know the event was memorable enough to avoid, at least until puberty.
I know, I know, LAND THE DARN PLANE....We stayed at the Embassy Suites off IH-10 in Baton Rouge. Arriving tired and ready to swim. Ok, the kids were ready to swim. I grab my homework (Sophocles-The Three Theban Plays) and the kids. We wait fifteen minutes for an elevator (slight exaggeration), arriving at the loudest pool in all of my life. There are children running everywhere, deafening screams, and no pool towels.
I ask the front desk for towels about 45 minutes later. My kids decide the noise level at the pool is too distracting(no exaggeration). Grabbing a towel we quickly exit to the elevator and wait fifteen minutes to ride up three floors.
This morning we are walking out to breakfast and realize their shoes were left at the pool last night. Thadd heads to the pool. No SHOES. The front desk also has no shoes. The kids are sad, hurt, betrayed. I'm furious, mostly at myself for forgetting to check their feet last night. I also forgot our electric toothbrush and my husband's cord to his electric razor. I'm on a roll.
The kids ask questions about why someone would take their shoes. My vigilante, Chloe, says she will fight to the death for her shoes. Thadd says,” ... someone obviously needed them more than you...” I nod my head in agreement with my husband, but I'm certain if I'd left my Sophocles book it would still be sitting on the table.
The lesson my kids learned today is people steal; not everyone is good and kind. They also learned not to leave their chanclas (flip flops) at the pool. I learned not to lend my flip flops to my daughter, EVER! I'm sure by tomorrow I'll change my mind. Oh wait, she is wearing ANOTHER pair of my shoes. Oh darn.
My deepest condolences go out to the Becker family who lost a wonderful and godly man. May Dr. Becker's life be celebrated for the great legacy he leaves behind.
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