I’ve said it before and I will repeat my sentiment again. There are two times during the year which people’s brains do not function properly; during the holiday season and as soon as the warm weather strikes. I have often wondered why. Maybe I should consult a professional regarding this. The “brain-dead” that I have encountered all started on Saturday, April 19th and continued through Sunday, April 27th.

On Saturday the 19th, the Other, me, one of Them and her beau were off to dining, dancing and playing a few slots at The River. Before we set sail for our destination, I had to go in to Stop and Shop to cash a check. As the Other approached through the parking lot to let me out, suddenly, out of nowhere, this woman, (give or take a few years), around my age just walked right in front of our car without looking.

My first “verbal” thought was, “Is she brain-dead or what?” My second verbal thought was, “Take a gander at what she’s wearing or not wearing.” The Other was not the only one that almost plowed into her, I witnessed two other cars, driven by men, (sorry guys), who lost their train of thought while behind the wheel.

Dashing out and into the parking lot, I witnessed a tank top which was not accompanied by a brassiere. I also witnessed a pair of shorts, with some type of logo, boldly written across her derrière. To each his or I should say, her own, the shorts were sooo short that all witnessed quite a pair of cheeks, and I’m not talking about the ones on a person’s face. Hellooo…No wonder there was almost a three car pile-up!

During the wee morning hours of the 27th, the Other and I had been out and about all day. We stopped for a quick dinner and ran into an old friend who we’d not seen for quite some time. Needless to say, we ended up closing the place. On our way home, the Other said lets go to breakfast. I am married with three of Them. I am game for anything!

The Other and I pulled into the one and only legendary Al Mac’s Diner in Fall River, which has a history all its own. It was a little after one in the morning. My grandmother’s brother, George, has been a fixture there for years and into his seventies, he keeps law and order in this landmark institution.

We took a seat at the counter next to my great uncle and a young Fall River police officer. Suddenly, the place was emerged with all types from all walks of life. Kidding, I said to the young officer, “You better take your place at the door.” Jokingly, I added that some nut could come in with a gun or threaten to blow us up! His response was, “I’ll be the first one out the door.” What a comforting thought! Whatever happened to the big, burly cops of yesteryear that no one who have even looked at cross-eyed?

The Other and I finished our breakfast and as I was savoring my last cup of coffee, I looked around at the other patrons surrounding me. I could not believe the style of dress and clothes or I should say the lack thereof. Fall River doesn’t need a strip joint. You can witness it all in the wee morning hours over toast, eggs and coffee!
Believe me, I am no prude but there are visions which are now burned into my corneas!

Upon exiting this establishment, the Other already out the door and sitting in “Big Daddy,” I encountered a sea of bodies. Politely, as I was trying to make my exit, I repeatedly said, “Excuse me.” I honestly felt like I was parting the Red Sea. When I reached the last body that was standing in front of the door, again, I politely said, “Excuse me.”

The Body in front of the door did not move but to me it sounded like he also said, “Excuse me.” Granted, my ears were a little blocked from being at the beach the previous day, encountering warm breezes. Again, I said “Excuse me,” and the response I thought I heard the first time, was the same; which I can not repeat in writing.

Here I was, left in a situation by my lonesome. This idiot was not about to let me out the door. I had to take the situation into my own hands. I made it very clear to him that I was a lady and how dare he disrespect me. I then took on a bold and “bowling ball” approach to this slug. I told him that if he did not let me exit I would literally take just two fingers, wrap them around his skinny, little neck, dangling with gold chains and send him clear across Davol Street. Guess what? Although I was afraid, the slug moved. I then got into “Big Daddy,” and the Other said, “What took you so long?”

I am totally convinced that we are living in a mad world which is going to H E double hockey sticks! Whatever happened to respect and proper dress? Heck, I should run for President, (insert laughter here)! It can’t get much worse; let’s only hope it will get better. And just remember, summertime hasn’t even officially arrived!

Let’s face it; at one time in our lives, we’ve all been the victim of a bully. Whether it was some kid in school forcing us to fork over our lunch money, some big, bad “dog” on the playground or at the bus stop or just some “mean” girl that thrived on spreading rumors about you in the sixth grade; bullies have been around as long as there has been human civilization.

Albert Einstein once said, “You cannot solve the problem with the same kind of thinking that created the problem.” No offense to Mr. Einstein but how many times have you just wanted to smack that bully upside the head and give them a dose of their own medicine? Of course, we all know violence solves nothing. Just look at the Iraq war.

Bullies thrive on deliberate hostility or aggression towards their chosen victim. Bullying is intentional and interaction for the victim is painful, humiliating, embarrassing and distressing. Once we reach adulthood, one would think that our bullying days would be over. Guess again? Bullying still takes place in the workplace and those that you deal with in every day life. The following story is a true example but names and businesses have been omitted to protect the innocent.

A few years ago, a couple with children had to re-mortgage their home. Their credit was not in the best standing so they had no choice but to re-mortgage with a local credit union. At the time, they were treated like two year olds but ultimately were given a three year adjustable mortgage.

For the past few years, even if the couple had to let all other bills lapse, they always made sure their mortgage was paid each and every month. At times they had to wait until day thirty to make their loan payment but as long as it was paid by the 30th day of the month, it could not go against their credit; they just had to pay a late fee.

During the past few years, on three occasions, the couple’s check for their mortgage bounced like a ball. Kids needed braces, eyeglasses and food. They juggled as best as they could but for every “bouncing” occurrence, the couple always made good on their check and never let their payment go past the thirty day “danger” mark.

A few weeks ago another payment bounced. The husband received a “voice mail” on his work phone from a loan officer at the local credit union. The money was in the account, it just went in late. In the past, the credit union always re-deposited the check. This time was different.

The Bully from the credit union left a detailed message on the husband’s phone which said (short version), “I’ve helped you out but I should have let you people drown. You need to come here today and make good on this check. In the future, if this happens again, I am going to foreclose!” The husband called the Banker Bully back, told him the money was in the account. The check was then re-deposited and cleared the same day.

For a week, the husband did not sleep, nor could he focus on his job. The wife called every bank and credit union within a fifty mile radius. She was told the same each and every time. Foreclosure proceedings cannot begin unless you are ninety days past due on your loan. The couple had never gone past thirty days, let alone ninety! They were also told that even if their check bounced each and every month, as long as the couple made good on it, there was nothing a bank could do. They also consulted an attorney and were told the same. One loan officer that they spoke with classified the Banker Bully as just that, a bully.

After a week of worrying about the Banker Bully foreclosing on their property, the husband called the CEO of the credit union. The CEO and a member of the Board listened to the voice mail. The couple was finally put at ease. The CEO and Board member were appalled and apologized over and over for what the Banker Bully had put them through.

The moral of this story is just because someone bullies and threatens you, you don’t have to take it. There are solutions to each and every problem, no matter how big or small. And you may wonder what ever happened to the Banker Bully? Unfortunately, (for his family), he is most likely unemployed. Let this story be a lesson to all bullies. There will come a time when your bullying days will be over. You may just have to learn the hard way.

Close your eyes and let your mind wander as you imagine living in a perfect (or as close as you can get) world. Dream about change, hope, faith and trust in your fellow man. Sounds good doesn’t it? Sadly, too good to be true but we can dream and hope that the world will get better but before that happens, WE must get better.

In my perfect world scenario, illness does not exist. People do not die well before their time. Children and adults do not suffer from cancer, AIDS or any other horrible disease. We can all see, hear and feel. No one is without limbs. We can all touch, climb and run.

Our elderly survive long, happy lives, enjoy retirement and up until they take their last breath; it is with sound mind and body. Alzheimer’s does not exist. They can remain in their homes instead of having to leave them. Nursing homes would not be needed.

There would be no such thing as divorce. Families would stay together. Marriage would be taken very seriously. There would be no infidelities. The most important thing would be family. Mom could stay home and take care of the kids; while Dad brought home the bread and butter. There would be no reason for second incomes.

In a perfect world we would not have to lock our doors or set our alarms. There would be no homeless or jobless. Everyone could afford to live in a home and be able to put food on the table. We could afford gas for our cars, electric and fuel to heat our homes. There would be no need for homeless shelters.

Children could walk to the corner store without fear of harm coming to them. They could go to school without worry that some nut may enter the building with a gun. We would be safe in our cars with no fear of being car-jacked. We would be safe in our malls and shopping centers.

We could run and hike through the woods and fields to enjoy nature at its best. Farms would exist. Housing developments would not. We would not have to worry about wildlife entering our yards or killing our domestic animals. They too would have a home.

People would still attend church on Sundays and holy days. One would have to get their shopping done by Saturday because on Sundays and holidays stores would be closed. There would be no need for cell phones, computers or other gadgets. The price of a stamp would still be five or ten cents. We could afford to write letters and send proper thank you notes.

In MY perfect world, teenagers would have to live in some type of teen community center and return once they have reached the age of twenty-one! (You KNEW I had to throw that one in!) Children would respect their elders. They would learn right from wrong and value what their parents taught them. They would not join gangs. They would all grow up to be respectable members of their community.

In a perfect world, war would be obsolete and villains would be unheard of. Most importantly, NO ONE would have ever heard of a man by the name of George W. Bush!

Our Country faces a great change. Maybe, someday we will be able to enjoy a close to perfect world. Let’s bring back honesty, decency, respect and love for your fellow man. We can achieve this, TOGETHER, one step at a time. We just need to go forward and make sure we do not make the same mistake twice.

We’ve all at one time or another been in a mall or shopping center and have spotted that cute little puppy in the pet shop window, the little ball of fur with the wagging tail. Some of us go in and play with that puppy; others decide to purchase the new friend. We know how much it costs to buy that doggie in the window but what price has that doggie paid, before he was purchased by you?

Last Friday an investigative report was done by journalist Lisa Ling on “puppy mills” and her report was broadcast on the Oprah show. For those who watched this particular show, even if you are not a true animal lover as long as you have an ounce of compassion in you, I am sure you shed a few tears.

I have always considered myself well versed when it comes to animals, especially dogs. I have owned them all my life and at one time bred Labrador Retrievers. What I watched on this show opened my mind and heart and made me rethink my own values as far as where to get a furry friend.

Over the years, I have adopted many dogs and cats through local shelters but I have also purchased two Rottweilers and a Pug via pet shops. After witnessing what I saw on the Oprah show, I can with ever fiber of my being tell you that I will never again purchase a dog/cat from a pet shop. Here is the reason why…

An overwhelming ninety-nine percent of pet shop puppies (kitties too) are purchased through puppy mills. The females are bred twice a year. They give birth to their puppies in rabbit hutch like cages, stacked on top of each other from floor to ceiling. They have just enough room to stand up and turn around, their feet never touching the ground or grass; just wire, feces and urine.

These female “producers” are never named or given any type of veterinary care. Many have never seen the light of day. The luckier ones can exit their hutch for exercise and spin around on a wheel, much like that of a gerbil or hamster. Once they can no longer produce, for those who are not rescued, they meet the end of their sad lives, (which many live like this from birth to ten plus years), with a single bullet to the head.

If more people stopped buying animals from pet shops, this horrible and unforgivable treatment of these animals would end. Aren’t we better than this? Aren’t we more intelligent and compassionate than this? Why do these puppy mills even exist?

After witnessing this inhumane torture and sad truth of these animals raised in puppy mills, my mind could not shut out or let me ever forget what I saw and my heart is still heavy with sorrow for these defenseless creatures.

I urge all of you, please, if you wish to get a dog/cat/rabbit/?, please visit your local animal shelter or go online to Petfinder.com A third of these animals are purebred, others are fancy and loving mixes. If you do have your heart set on a purebred dog/cat, just go onto the web. There are rescue services all over the country that deal with almost every purebred breed. There are also many reputable breeders out there.

If you can’t adopt an animal, please give a donation to your local animal shelter, even food, blankets, towels, cleaners and medicines are welcome. Consider fostering a pet until a forever home can be found. Most of all, PLEASE spay/neuter your pet. They will live longer, healthier lives. By doing so, it will ease unnecessary overcrowding in shelters and help to save the many that are on “death row.”

If you can order a tape of this show, (Oprah.com), or see a rebroadcast, I urge you to do so. It will definitely open up a space in your heart that just maybe you never knew existed.

“The world breaks everyone and afterward, many are strong at the broken places.” – Ernest Hemingway, (1899-1961), quote from “A Farewell To Arms,” (1929).

I have had these words etched into my mind for many, many years. We all go through very tough and trying times. Although this quote rings true, the older we become, the more we endure with age, and this sentiment becomes more and more evident. I do not know who said, “What does not kill us will make us stronger,” but the older you get you realize what matters and what does not.

For quite some time, the Other has been after me about going to see an attorney to have a will made out. For the most part, over the past few years every time the Other mentions this, I simply change the subject or I inform the Other that I have told Them what I want in the event of my passing.

Let’s face it, we all know that there are two things we can never cheat on or escape in life…death and taxes. If the IRS doesn’t get you, eventually, the Grim Riper will. This is a fact that none of us can deny. In my mind, I can not understand or justify WHY I am having such a hard time about having a will made out.

My family has been in the Burial Vault business for almost fifty years. We have buried the famous and the infamous. I have grown up with this “business” my entire life. I have a brother who is a funeral director. Heck, three years ago I wanted to become a funeral director and was accepted to a Mortuary College. Last minute, I changed my mind.

I still don’t fully understand what my reasoning was behind my change of heart. Maybe it was age, maybe I just wanted a change, and maybe it was fear. Last week, I finally discovered my answer to the question that has plagued me for so long. It was not through my own reasoning but just by a simple sentence that my Publisher/Editor said to me. The words were short but sweet, “Kathy, you have found your voice.” Now, it makes sense. The misunderstood parts of my life simply, clicked.

When you live in a small town, rumors envelope you no matter where you go. Sometimes I’ve heard rumors, other times the bold and the brass have simply gotten up in my face and asked why I no longer “bury” people for a living. I should not have to explain myself but I will…Things happen and honestly, I was burnt out. I may not make the “big bucks” any longer but, I AM HAPPY. Writing is my forte’ and I truly appreciate it when I am out and about and hear, “Kathy, nice article.” To me, this sentiment is worth a pot of gold. I never once heard, “Kathy, nice burial.” Get my drift?

Although many have said I am more like my Dad, honestly, I am more like the “High Priestess.” The Priestess was an only child and lost her Mom when she was only thirty-six and her Father passed away when she was forty-eight. The day of my Grandpa’s funeral, we exited the funeral home. We took our place in the limousine, Grandpa was in the Hearse, the Flower car and other mourners were all in place to travel to Grandpa’s final destination. Suddenly, before the funeral procession left the parking lot, the “High Priestess” exited the limo and entered the front seat of the hearse which carried her beloved Father.

How I wish you could have been there! The stares, the words and the overall jive of the moment should have been caught on tape! The “High Priestess” did what SHE wanted to do and DID NOT care what anyone thought! The Priestess was with Her Dad, riding shot-gun by His side, lovingly and “personally” escorting Him to his final destination.

It has been well over nineteen years since my Grandpa passed away. I held His hand as he left this world and the Priestess was with Him to the VERY END. I can still remember being in the limo with my siblings, my Dad smoking a pipe and when the “Priestess” exited to enter the hearse my Dad saying, “The poor man STILL can’t get away from Her!” One thing I’ve learned, you have to find happiness and laughter, even within sadness.

Now, in my mid-forties, I finally feel like I have come into my own. I KNOW who I am, what I want and what I am best at. I DO NOT care about what anyone thinks or what they have to say. My motto is, “Walk in my shoes,” and visa versa.

The “High Priestess” never shielded me from what LIFE throws at you, which has made me stronger. Even though many times I have doubted myself, my Publisher/Editor, with simple and caring words has reinforced this.

Our lives intertwine in many ways. Keep reading and let’s journey on together. To the “High Priestess,” THANK YOU for showing me the way. To Mr. Hanley, a/k/a, “Jim,” THANK YOU for having confidence in me and NEVER editing out a single word!

Hillary Rodham-Clinton got a little choked-up and misty-eyed. For weeks this was played out in the media. Some felt she would not be strong enough to lead our Nation, others admired her showing a never before seen emotional side, which to her credit, made us all realize she is human. Sadly, she has been chastised because she is a woman.

I like Hillary. I admire her and appreciate how well she has always held her head high. I’m sure it was not and is still not easy living with, (I DID NOT have relations with THAT woman), “Bill.” She is a strong persona and I bet you could put her in the ring against anyone and she’d come out swinging. To be frank, you’ve got to give the lady credit. She definitely wears a set of bowling balls.

Barack Obama has been criticized for not being “black enough,” others hopped on the “racist and bigoted” band wagon because he is black. Then came the rumors that he is/was a Muslim. WHEN on God’s Green Earth are people EVER going to LOOK BEYOND the color of one’s skin or their religious beliefs and look at the PERSON? Then there was the whole Reverend Wright debacle. For anyone with half a brain, it doesn’t take much to figure out that the dear old Rev is a nut!

I like Barack. He is young with fresh ideas. He appears to be a devoted husband and father. He is a handsome man who presents himself well. I enjoy his speeches, (although I am sure someone else writes them), he utters each and every word with great eloquence.

John McCain has endured many criticisms because he is “old.” May I ask who, what, when, where or why defines when someone is old? If you happen to have the answer, please, by all means, clue me in! Due to the MAJOR screw-ups, bumbles and overall stupidity which has taken place for almost eight years, thanks to the primate currently in office, by the name of George Dubble-Ya, I don’t think Mr. McCain has a chance of becoming the new leader of the free world. Deep down, Mr. McCain has to realize that Georgie Porgie Puddin Pie has left a putrid taste in our mouths, Republican’s included.

I like John. Yes, he is “mature” but I like his smile and his wisdom. As a man, he shows great grace and appears to be likeable and honest. I admire him for not participating in the “mud-slinging” game. Most of all, each and every American owes him the greatest respect for having served this country and enduring years of nightmares and torture.

There you have it, three different individuals, all discriminated against for one reason or another. WE all need to get a MAJOR reality check and PAY ATTENTION to what REALLY matters. OUR FUTURE DESPERATELY DEPENDS ON IT.

On a lighter note, a friend sent me this joke and I’d like to share it, (Everett, this one’s for you!) …

Presidential candidates Clinton, Obama and McCain were flying to a debate. Barack looked at Hillary and said, “I could throw a $1,000 bill out of the window and make someone very happy.”

Hillary shrugged her shoulders and replied, “I could throw ten $100 bills out of the window and make ten people very happy.”

John added, “I could throw one hundred $10 bills out of the window and make a hundred people very happy.”

Overhearing the three candidate’s exchange, the pilot rolled his eyes and muttered to himself, “Such big-shots. I could throw all of them out of the window and make 156 million people very happy!”

Personally, I got a chuckle from this joke but felt SOMETHING was missing. Suddenly, it came to me! Too bad Georgie Porgie wasn’t on the same flight!

By, Katherine Quintal-Haberek

Every once in a while, I decide to “take to the bed.” If you are someone who truly enjoys your privacy or a Mom, you’ll certainly understand this practice. Privacy is a precious thing to me and once you no longer have it, you realize that in order to keep your sanity, you must sometimes take drastic measures.

Twenty-two years ago, my fiancé (now husband) and I started construction on a large 4 bedroom, 2 bath home. Nestled in the woods, my closest neighbors were the cows next door. I had privacy galore! Once the house was completed, so many people asked why we needed such a large home. If I only knew then, what I know now, I would have tripled the size of the home!

Once the house was completed, we married and moved in. My spouse and I each had a private office and bath of our own. Two years after moving in, my life changed dramatically. Within five years, three children came into our lives. I am now dealing with teenagers.

Please don’t misunderstand. I love my kids but I truly have no privacy. Every nook and cranny of my home is either filled with kids or the kid’s belongings. So, every so often to help myself stay sane, I enter my bedroom with food/drink a good book or movie, shut the door and “take to the bed.” Peace and solitude is a wonderful thing, if only for a few hours, I enjoy that precious time.

For those who feel that this is a drastic measure, please be assured that I have truly tried other ways to escape and enjoy just a few hours of peace and solitude. I have tried going out to dinner, to the beach or just simply going across my street to visit with my Mom or my sisters. Somehow, THEY always manage to track me down. I feel like THEY have installed a Lo-Jack system in me. THEY are able to pinpoint my exact location, anytime, anywhere. Now, I face a new dilemma.

During the summer, my husband and two sons constructed a large shed in my back yard. The shed is going to be used to house all of the things that are now being stored in the garage since it is now overflowing with THEIR things.

I have hinted to my “family contractors” that maybe we should insulate the shed and also have electricity going into it. “Why?” THEY ask. I think to myself that just maybe, just for a change, I’d like to “take to the shed,” instead of “taking to the bed!”

Last week, the youngest of Them went on a three day school trip to our Nation’s Capitol. From very early on Wednesday morning until late into Friday evening, my home was VERY quiet and peaceful. Although there was an absence in my heart, I must admit that I relished in the comfort of solace.

During much of those three days, I took many walks down memory lane. The last one of Them will be entering high school come August, as the Swansea school system starts the “new year” a week before Labor Day, (ruining all plans for an end of summer getaway).

I reminisced about the long ago field days, show and tell days, and book fairs, wear a favorite hat days, mismatched sock days, school dances, driving classes and graduations, getting off the bus at a friend’s house days (and visa versa), bring a pet days and the parent-teacher conference days.

Surprisingly, even the Other remarked on how quiet Our home was. A man of few words, the Other stated the fact that before We know it, They will all be gone, and then questioned me as to, “What are We going to do then?” I did not answer the Other, instead I just let out an “hmm,” turned my head and realized there was a smile on my face!

Please don’t misunderstand. I love my kids; it’s Their ages that I don’t like! For all who know me or read this column, I pull no punches as to how I feel about teenagers! If I had it my way, I would have Them go directly from the age of twelve (earlier for girls), straight to the age of twenty-one!

Presently, one of Them is already out on Their own, another will be off to college in a year and the youngest will rapidly follow. Will I miss Them? Yes. Will I be sad or devastated when I FINALLY reach the point of the “empty nest?” Heck, NO! I have plans for MY future!

I will no longer have to argue with the “guests” in MY home about curfews, cars, chores and dirty clothes on Their floors! I will no longer have to threaten Them with having a GPS system installed in Their (MY) cars or cell phones (also MINE). Gone will be the days of hiding my cigarettes and counting the beer in the fridge each and every time I leave my home.

Instead of being a slave to my home and offering FREE maid service to Them, twenty-four hours a day, three hundred and sixty-five days a year, I relish the thought that before I know it, I will have a life again!

WHEN My life begins, I will no longer frown upon doing housework. I will take pride in dusting, vacuuming and washing floors. Once this work is done, I know that none of Them will be tracking in mud onto my floors and leaving food or drink on my gleaming, living room tables! Laundry will no longer be a dreaded task. Instead of doing eight to ten loads a week, I have calculated in my mind that this chore will be cut in half!

Just writing about My future life makes me smile! My home will stay clean, I will no longer have to hide things or play “cops and robbers!” When I put something somewhere, it will stay there. I will also save money! My car insurance will drop dramatically, along with the cell phone bill, grocery bill, oil and electricity. I’ll even be able to shower and not have to lock the bathroom door!

I have thought about so many things that will get easier in My life once the last one of Them has left the nest. It occurred to me that My job will even get easier! I will no longer have to tell Them to get off of My computer. I will no longer have to call my Publisher, frantic on a Monday morning, to tell him that I can not e-mail the article because one of Them has AGAIN downloaded something that has infected My computer with a virus or has caused it to lock up!

Yes, I will miss Them and I’m sure that for a time I will feel melancholy when They are all out on Their own but as the saying goes…Birds have to fly and fish have to swim and Mom’s have to live life too!

Sunday was not a good day. I awoke, hot and sticky with my hair in my face, closely resembling “Cousin It,” from the Adams Family. I looked at the hamper in my room which was once again filled to the brim with towels. I arose from my bed mumbling a few choice words to myself.

I found the Other in the living room, reading his Sunday paper and They were still sleeping. “What are you doing today,” the Other asked? I rolled my eyes and stated to the Other, “Where do I go as long as the sun is shining?” The Other went back to reading his paper.

I am not, never have been nor will ever be a morning person. I poured myself a large glass of OJ and chugged it down. I then cleaned the kitchen, loaded the dishwasher and threw a load of towels into the machine. After that, I put my bathing suit on, packed my cooler, chair and towel to head off to the beach. I also fed the cats, replenished fresh water for the dogs and cleaned the litter boxes.

As I was headed out the door, They had finally gotten out of bed. I requested two things of Them. When it gets too hot, please bring the dogs inside and do not drink the rest of the iced tea. They could have the punch, lemonade and OJ but please leave my iced tea alone. Off I went for the day.

I had an enjoyable day soaking up the sun and surf and returned home around 5:30 that evening, finding the Other sitting out in the shade and They were across the street at my sister’s house. I hopped in the shower and decided I’d catch up on my local news and have a nice, cold glass of iced tea.

I opened up the fridge and to what did my wandering eyes appear? NO iced tea! I started to hoot and holler, “Where is my iced tea?” The Other came in and informed me that one of Them did not return the glass bottle to its proper place in the fridge and when the door was opened, the iced tea came crashing down onto the kitchen floor. Once again, I had a few choice words for Them, except this time, I voiced my agitation loud and clear!

Around 8 p.m. I decided to sit down and tune in to “Millionaire Password,” and have some Baskin Robbins Rocky Road ice cream. Please keep in mind that I’m not really into ice cream but once a year, I indulge in this flavor. I had informed Them not to touch my Rocky Road. I went to the freezer to retrieve my sweet treat. I thought the pint container felt a little on the “light” side. I took off the cover, looked inside and guess what I found? I was left with three teaspoons full of Rocky Road!

Believe me; you would not have wanted to be in my home at this time. Like an FBI Agent, I grilled and drilled Them. Of course no one would admit who consumed my Rocky Road but I greatly suspect the culprit is the youngest of Them, who has a sweet tooth for anything that is chocolate.

After watching “Password,” I decided to retire and watch TV in my room. The Other was already sleeping because he had to get up early to attend an all day and probably all night golf tournament. I will not address the “golf thing” at this time. We DO NOT want to go there!

As I was lying in bed, I felt a hankering for something sweet. I decided on a peach yogurt and a nice, cold bottle of Poland Springs water. I found the yogurt but there was not a bottle of water to be found! The time was now 10 p.m. They were still up and were questioned once again. This time, I made Them go downstairs for more bottled water to replenish the supply.

It does me no good to hoot and holler. It does me no good to request that They not touch certain things that my taste buds crave. About a week ago, the Other wanted to purchase a mini-fridge. At the time, I told the Other that we did not need this. I have since changed my mind. The mini-fridge will be purchased, along with some type of lock and it will be mine, all mine!