prisoners and media specialists

So, as you know, Patrick fixed the Jeep this past weekend. We drove it around the last day or two, but he didn't drive it to work until this morning. We still have Chris' car, so he had been driving that, and I have been driving my mom's car because my car is still in the shop. So, we park my mom's car in the carport because it's fancy, and Patrick parked Chris' car behind it yesterday when he came home. This morning, at 8:58 am, it dawned on me. Patrick drove the Jeep to work. He did not remove Chris' car key from his key ring. So the car key was at Eastside, and the car was parked behind "my" car. So guess who has been trapped in the house all day.

Anyway, I have a story Patrick was supposed to post but never did. For the purpose of this story, Henry's teacher will be known as Ms. Soft Voice, and the librarians will be known as Ms. Out to Lunch (East and Midtown, depending). So, one night last week, the Hubs and I are sitting around the table in the courtyard having just finished dinner. The kids are running around playing, and Henry had gone inside to get his homework or something. He comes back out and says, his voice breaking, "Mommy, Ms. Soft Voice and Ms. Out to Lunch Midtown said I checked out these library books, but I didn't, and they didn't believe me!" Tears were welling up in his eyes. Patrick and I were both all, "It's okay, don't worry, additional comforting words..." Then Patrick said, "What books were they?" Henry said, "The Mosquito Coast and the Bonfire." At the same moment, Patrick and I burst into laughter, which only made Henry more confused, but did add some levity to the moment. You see, gentle reader, my husband, a teacher for the county, and my son, a student in the county, have the same first name. When Ms. Out to Lunch East checked out the books The Mosquito Coast and Bonfire of the Vanities to my husband, she actually checked them out to my 6 year-old-son. At the end of the year, all the Out to Lunches start the Big Push for the returning of all things owed, and Ms. Out to Lunch Midtown either didn't notice or (egads) didn't know that those two novels are 1. Not even carried in her school's library and 2. Not appropriate for any first grader, (even one as precocious as our beloved Henry). I mean no ill will to Out to Lunches or librarians. Some of my closest friends are perpetually Out to Lunch (you know who you are), though I don't tend to associate with many librarians. In the end, Patrick cleared it up with both Ms. Soft Voice and Ms. Out to Lunch Midtown, and, unlike the norm in this family, returned the books promptly. All is well with the school records. For now.