Sins of the mother…

Peyton has taught Rachael the true meaning of passive-aggressive behavior. This morning during the “Would you please hurry up and brush your teeth, get on your shoes, make yourself look human before I unleash you on the world” phase of school prep, Rachael come tearing into my bedroom.

“Peyton hit me!”

“Ok, did she….”

“And then she hugged me!”

“Really? Why?”

“I don’t know, I’m so confused.”

“I can understand that.”

“THEN she told me that next week she’s not going to be my sister.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, she’s so strange and MEAN.”

And this is all before 7:30 in the morning. I haven’t had any coffee yet. I haven’t brushed my teeth. Can you all please hold off on your dysfunction for another 15 minutes?

And I guess I need to explain my sister’s cryptic comment about the screaming and the mouse, because it just makes my family sound bizarre.

Back when my parents sold us to the carnival as side show freaks…

That so SHOULD be the beginning of the story, but so sadly, it’s not.

Where I grew up in Indiana was pretty much corn fields surrounded by cornfields buffered by the occasional soybean field, then more cornfields. We lived in a big old farmhouse…however, my father was an accountant so I could never figure out why we had a barn. This big farmhouse out in the country had a mouse problem, I guess just part of living in the country with an old house. They freaked me out! My sister as well…and because she brought this story up about me, I’m going to share one about her too!

There was just one day when my sister and brother and I were in the living room of the house and a tiny mouse scampered across the hard wood floors. I unleashed a scream so loud, so piercing, and so long that the mouse stopped.

It just stopped.

In the middle of the room, with it’s little legs just paralyzed.

We all starred at it and it never moved again. I think I gave it a stroke or a heart attack. The mouse just sat there, completely frozen, long enough for my brother to go into the kitchen, get a jar and a paper plate….he put the jar over the mouse, slid the plate under it and…still with the not-moving mouse, took it outside to the trash.

I killed a mouse with nothing but the sheer volume of my scream. I try to use my powers for good.

I have apparently passed this crazy inherent trait onto Rachael because people at the school were convinced that she’d broken all her fingers, that her hand had been crushed, it was a debilitating incident. When, in fact, they’re perfectly fine and she’s even lost the chance to milk it for more sympathy.

I’m going to go ahead and apologize for this next part beforehand. What you are about to read in the next few paragraphs, remember, I was about 8. I will probably get a call from my mom telling me that I’m grounded until my 40th birthday.

As for the story I’d like to share about my sister Angela…there was one night when I woke up to the my sister flipping out….I mean “call the white jacket men” kind of flip out. Apparently a mouse had run up onto her bed in the night and woke her up when it RAN across her chest!

I’m going to confess something here because she lives very far away from me and I can hide faster than she can drive here.

I knew there was a hold in the wall in my sister’s room behind her bed. I knew it was there because I’d snuck in and picked at it until it was the size of my fist. Again, with the knowing that it’s a farmhouse out in the country. My sister and I, who I love dearly and hope that she still loves me after she reads this post, were not terribly close as kids. She was 5 years older, I was a complete pest and we often butted heads.

So, in retaliation for some issue that I can’t even remember, I began leaving food in the hole behind her bed.

Every day.

Morning and night.

When my sister came out in a dead panic over the mouse in her bed, I almost peed the bed laughing.

I’m very ashamed now. I do apologize for it to my sister, but at the time it was the best thing I’d ever seen! It was possibly the highlight of my childhood at that moment.

My sister Angela and me in sweeter days.

Ahhh, but God has a good sense of humor.

I got the children my mother always prayed I’d have.

f.r.o.G…fully relying on God
–Anissa

**I had to include the top picture, that’s me after I first came to the states from Korea. Notice the hairdo?? I was three, so Peyton and I share that ‘do at almost the same age! But she wears it a lot better than me.

Please try to come!

Benefit Dinner and Concert

Honoring Mathew Gliddon & Family

Mathew is a 5 year old Leukemia patient. Karen (his Mom) is an instructor for Music with Mar. , she has been the instructor at FreshStart on Fridays for the last year. All proceeds of this evening will go to his family to help with medical expenses. Karen and her husband Mat also have a 2 year old son Andrew. Each week here at FreshStart Karen has brought many smiles to the faces of the lives she touches, both toddlers and Moms.

Where: FreshStart Church
13810 Wright Circle, Tampa

When: Friday, January 18th 6:00 pm

Dinner and a concert featuring Music with Mar. and a silent auction.

Why: To honor Mathew and his family

Contact Charlene@freshstartchurch.com or 727-376-1114 if you have any questions.
Tickets

8.00/person or 23.00 /family for dinner/concert

4.50/person or 15.00/family for concert only @ 7:15 pm