Lacey's Heartwarming Thanksgiving Story

In honor of Thanksgiving this month, I thought I would write about something that happened to me when I was very young that really taught me a lot about this holiday. I hope that you will remember this tale as you enjoy your Thanksgiving dinner and that your family will be able to bask in this story's light.

 

By the way, this story involves Lacey. Don't worry. Her permission is not needed. And if she tries to sue me, I'll tell everyone what a bad friend she is. Plus I'm sure I could blackmail her. Anyways...

 

     Once when I was in second grade, a boy name Tony (I changed his name, but I'm sure he couldn't sue me either. I still have a letter from him talking about him chasing his brother and trying to bite him. More blackmail!) brought a plastic toy axe to school. For some reason, we all thought it was an excellent toy and couldn't wait to play with it. Once recess started, a group of us ran outside to play with Tony's axe. Being the creative children we were, we decided to play "Turkey Hunter," a game we had just invented at that very moment.

     Don't ask me how I got to be the hunter. But more importantly, don't ask the other kids how I got to be the hunter because they'll probably lie and accuse me of being bossy. I can't believe I hung out with those jerks. Anyways, I was the hunter which meant I got to chase everyone around and try to chop their necks with the axe. Don't worry, we were in the far corner of the playground where teachers couldn't properly supervise us.

     So there was this girl playing with us and she was pretty new. She had only moved to our town that year. Well, of course I wanted to make her feel like she was part of the group, so I did what any friendly second grader would have done. I targeted her as my next "kill." I don't want to say that I'm competitive, but I was so fast that I caught her and gave her a...gentle....tap with the axe.

I'm 100% positive Aubrey played Turkey Hunter with us. Makelle too, but unfortunately, she's the one taking this picture.

     Unfortunately, something bad happened. For some strange reason, when I hit her with the axe, she mysteriously got injured and her lip started bleeding! It was the craziest thing. No one could have predicted that something like that would happen! Well, of course the new girl was a crier (as is probably the case with most second graders).

     I was so scared that Lacey was going to tell the teacher on me. I mean, how could I have defended myself? It was pretty obvious by now that hitting people with weapons was more than likely against the school rules. I knew I had to do something to get Lacey on my side.

     Together, we went into the bathroom and I put some water on a paper towel and gave it to her to put on her lip. She wasn't crying as much at this point, just kind of sniffling. Keep in mind that she and I hadn't really talked to each other before this debacle so it was pretty quiet in the bathroom as I have always been and will always be socially inept. 

     Not knowing what else to do, I decided to wash my hands in the sink. I explained to Lacey with something like, "I need to clean the blood off. Gross."

     I realized that handing someone a wet paper towel, then standing in silence while she dabbed at her bloody lip, and then finally calling her blood "gross" wasn't exactly a guarantee that she wasn't going to tell on me. I decided I should probably try to do more because I really didn't want to get in trouble (oh and because I was really worried about her injury and wanted her to feel comfortable and blah blah blah).

Bet you're wondering how I got this picture, eh Lacey?

     This is where the tale becomes really heartwarming. To make Lacey feel better, I started picking up paper towels off the floor and pretending to use them to dry my hands, all with a disgusted look on my face. Of course it worked! I was quite the comedian! Lacey started laughing. I then offered to take the paper towel she was using and throw it away for her. Again, I pretended to be sickened by the little bloody patch on the paper towel, which made her laugh harder. I was on a roll. Finally, I made a comment about how I really hoped I didn't get any more of her blood on me. It worked like a charm. Lacey, laughing hysterically, then stuck out her bloodied bottom lip and began chasing me around the bathroom.

    Needless to say, Lacey and I have been friends ever since. More importantly, she didn't tell on me and I didn't get in trouble. Thanks, Lacey!

THE END.





Look at her. I like her. A lot.

Whew. That was pretty emotional, right? Don't be ashamed of your tears. Sometimes when a story touches your soul like this, the only thing you can do is cry. Stay strong.

 

P.S. You may be asking yourself, "But what does this story have to do with Thanksgiving?" Well, if you go back to the first paragraph, you'll notice I used the word "turkey." How much more of a connection to Thanksgiving do you need?!

Oh and in case any of you single fellas were wondering...



Just a Few More Things

Again, not much has happened, but here are a few of the more interesting of our recent activities:

 

 

I got to witness the famous Ute Stampede! It was not quite as raucous as I was expecting. All the horses just walked (not even trotted).

It was cool because there were so many horses.

It was weird because none of the cowboys or cowgirls spoke so it felt a little bit like a funeral march.

It made me think that when I die, I would like my body to be placed on one of those horses and taken through the streets of Nephi in commemoration, even if I die months before the stampede actually takes place.

What if my body fell off and the horse just dragged my body? Ew and then my head rolled out of the procession to one of the on lookers. Then they would never be able to forget me! Their dreams would be haunted with visions of my dismembered head staring at them with that creepy smile of mine...

 

Something that was a lot more fun was the Spanish Fork rodeo with Shane and Ness! It was awesome!

 

 

We went to several birthday parties that were all fantastic!

Misty bravely confronting her bird phobia.

Harry Potter, Hagrid, and Luna Lovegood

 

Grandpa Babe "smoking" (AKA putting dry ice in his mouth)

The Sorting ceremony with Professor McGonagall

Why is a dementor getting sorted?!

 

We got to meet Shane and Ness at the airport after they got engaged!

 



 

And we got to go to their wedding and reception!

Apparently we only got a photo of Mitch...and Brandon? But no bride or groom?

We also played a really weird game with our friends.

It's hard to believe, but Stephen made that mask himself.

All part of the game, folks.

 

For the last 3 Halloweens, we have had zero trick-or-treaters. At least we got to see this cute kid in his costume! He's a golfer!

We got to go on the elk hunt at the Book Cliffs.

 



 

 

Most importantly, we celebrated our 2 year anniversary with Cabelas, The Gap outlet, and Olive Garden! Cheers to us!

 





This was before we started dating back in 2008.

Weird Stuff Andrew Does at Night

     Well, hello there and welcome. Unfortunately, very little has happened in the lives of the Rosenbaums lately that is worth mentioning. However, I have decided to share some stories. I also added pictures so it will feel more like stunning cinematic masterpieces. The best part is, these stories all have a common theme: Weird Stuff that Andrew Does at Night. I hope you enjoy reading these three tales as much as I enjoyed living through them. Oh, and in case you haven't noticed yet, I'm really bad at coming up with titles. Don't be surprised if they don't make any sense.

 

 Crimes of the Light Sleeper

     Last winter I was still in school and Andrew was still working for Pepsi. I stayed up late one night to finish my homework. Andrew was already asleep since he had to wake up early for work the following morning. Andrew is such a light sleeper that usually he wakes up at the slightest sound or movement from me. Even though I always try to avoid waking him, I am rarely successful.

     On this night, I opened the door to our bedroom as quietly as possible. To my surprise, his gentle snores weren't disrupted and I knew he was still asleep. Nevertheless, I didn't even bother celebrating as I knew he would wake up at any moment now. I kept the lights off and even though I tried to be careful, I accidentally bumped the bed. Surprisingly, Andrew didn't even stir.

     Finally, my last and most difficult obstacle arose. Not once has Andrew ever slept through me getting in bed. It doesn't matter how slowly or quietly I slide in. Sometimes I even imagine that I'm a swimmer gracefully gliding through the waves without causing a ripple, all to no avail. I think my butt is just too heavy. At least, it seems to be the one causing the most ruckus when I climb in. On this cold winter's night, however, Andrew's breathing remained even and I knew that for the first (and probably last) time in my life, my butt and I had triumphed over the bounciness of our mattress.

     Now, I think it's time to tell you that for some reason, my feet are almost always cold, but Andrew is almost always warm. When we're in bed, I like to put my icy feet on Andrew's legs to try to warm them up. Typically, Andrew disapproves.

     Taking his dislike of my cold feet into account and carefully weighing it against the fact that I hadn't disturbed him once that night, I got an idea. I thought that perhaps if I pushed my luck just a little bit further, I'd be able to warm my feet on him without him waking up and complaining. I decided to go for it. Ever so slowly, I moved my feet closer and closer to him. Finally, I touched his leg with my big toe.

Improper use of the seatbelt.

     Andrew's frighteningly loud gasp combined with the gigantic jerk of his body (which I'm pretty sure caused the mattress to bounce me a foot into the air) made me think that he was about to Kung Fu me in the throat. I fled to the edge of the bed, trying to make my breathing sound like I was asleep. Wouldn't you know it, Andrew's breathing remained regular. He slept through the whole thing. Nevertheless, I learned my lesson. I am in charge of warming up my own feet, which is better than getting karate chopped.

THE END.

Ninja!

 

 

Accidental Rebellion 

     I woke up in the middle of the night once with a feeling of great urgency. Always trying to follow my gut instincts (yes, my gut has multiple instincts), I traipsed into the bathroom. Ten seconds later, Andrew appeared in the doorway. His eyes were mere squints against the bright bathroom light. I just stared at him, waiting for him to say something or indicate in some way why he had followed me. Of course he just stared back.

     Finally, he broke the quietness. "What. Are you. Doing." I couldn't help but wonder if he really expected me to answer. Apparently it didn't matter what I thought, however, as he took my one second silence as a sign of defiance. Suddenly, he was crazy with rage! "What are you doing???!!! You know the rules! Get back to bed!" That night forever changed the way I look at my dear husband.

THE END.

This picture MIGHT make sense if you follow me on Instagram.

 

P.S. In case you were wondering, after Andrew started shouting at me, I began to laugh so hard I could hardly stand up. He is not, in all actuality, mean or scary in any way. He is merely the funniest person you will ever meet. And no, I have no idea what rules he was talking about. Neither does he.



See? Look how gentle he is with Baby Harper! He's not scary!



 

My Life Turned Into a Scary Story 

     This tale requires some backstory. For those of you who don't know (and if you don't know, then obviously we're not that good of friends), Keeks is my cat. I've had her for some crazy amount of time like 17 years or something, and she's still alive. Poor Keeks is stigmatized as a "mean cat," but really, she's just misunderstood. Yes, she's mean to every single animal ever, and yes, there's a rumor going around that she's the reason my other cat, Comet, mysteriously disappeared so many years ago. Okay, and yes, my nieces and nephews are afraid of her because several of them have been bitten or scratched by her. But seriously, she's just a simple, super obese cat with simple, super obese pleasures, trying to make it in this complicated, anti-obesity world.

     The worst part of all of this is she resides at my parents house and not at mine. There are 3 reasons she can't live with me:

          1. Our landlords would not appreciate us having a pet.

          2. Andrew would not appreciate us having a pet cat, especially Keeks, for whom he has some sort of weird vendetta.

          3. Keeks is in the same situation as animals who live in the zoo for so long they die if released in the wild. Likewise, Keeks would probably not survive a change of environment, as even her taking one step outside the house is a cause for celebration.

 

    Anyways, enough backstory.

 

     One night I partly woke up (I use the word "partly" because a lot of this tale seems like a dream, though Andrew assures me this really did happen). I rolled over to face Andrew and asked, "Is this a nightmare?"

     Andrew gently answered, "No, Sweetheart. This is not a nightmare."

     I, of course, replied grumpily, "Then where's Keeks?!"

     All of a sudden, Andrew's voice took on a spooky quality as he said, "Don't you remember? Keeks has been dead for years!" which caused me to go, "Noooooooooooooooooo!" before falling back asleep.

     I sure was happy though when I woke up again to find out that Keeks really is still alive.

THE END.

Ooh he's a wily one. That's for sure.

 

Wow. Can you believe the backstory was so much longer than the actual story. It makes me wonder if it was actually worth writing. Then I remember how much of it is about Keeks and realize that the world deserves to know about her...PAWsome self! Yeah! That pun was PURRfect!

 

It's funny because this post started out as a bunch of stories about Andrew, but took a crazy turn into Keeksville. Now that's what I'm talkin' about.

 

Oh, and lastly, this isn't a story, just more of a fun fact. Some nights while Andrew is asleep he'll try to push me off the bed, even though I am literally on the edge, as far away as possible from him. Thank goodness he's so weak when he's asleep!