As usual, issues of a bizarre nature continue to plague us. It's never anything simple like the dog ran away. No, our dog runs away and then gets brought home in the back of a police car. It's not "Mommy, Dillon took my pencil. Tell him to give it back." It's Dillon took my pencil so let me take this matter into my own hands and beat the hell out of him and then stab him in the hand with said pencil. It's not "Ma I forgot my lunch." It's "Ma, I forgot to e-mail my essay to my teacher so I need you to log onto every account on the computer and see where I saved the file and then e-mail it to my teacher. It won't take you long and you're not doing anything anyway." Anyway, you get the point.

This brings me to our new and exciting issue. About a month ago when we were getting hit with snowstorm after snowstorm Alan got up at 5:30 one morning to start the shoveling out process. He started in the backyard by our detached garage and was working his way up to the road. As he made his way to the front of the house he spotted a strange pickup truck parked in the shoulder across the street. Someone had gotten out of the truck and began walking towards the house, only to be surprised by Alan, and got back in the truck and sped away. Alan told me about the incident and then blew it off.

That night (a weeknight) about 10ish someone rang our doorbell multiple times, left us an empty Snapple bottle on the front porch and then took off. I really didn't think much of it. I was under the impression that it was the teenage girl next door fooling around and blew that off as well.

Fast forward about 10 days....Jake was up at 6 getting ready for school. He opened the front door and the same pickup that Alan had described was in our driveway. Apparently when Jake turned lights on and opened up the front door the truck took off. He ran frantically into my bedroom and proceeded to explain to Alan and I what had happened. Jake is known to embellish the truth a bit, so once again we just blew it off.

All was quiet around here for about 2 weeks. We chalked the truck up to being the newspaper guy and hadn't received anymore Snapple bottle gifts on our front porch. Until yesterday morning....

Jake was up getting ready for school. When he opened the front door to catch the bus he was greeted by a 2 -foot plastic Frankenstein doll. It was in a standing position and purposely put down so it would be facing whoever opened the front door first in the morning. Around 7:00 I went outside to get the paper and the doll was there laying face down on the front porch. I yelled inside to Alan asking him where the Frankenstein came from. Of course, he had no clue what I talking about.

When Jake got off the bus I interrogated him about where this thing came from. He thought the kids put it there to scare the hell out of him. Well, that wasn't the case. None of us had ever seen this doll before. I absolutely refused to bring the thing in the house. It sat on the front porch until 5:45 yesterday when Alan, Jake and Dillon were leaving for Basketball practice. Jake decided to kick the doll down the front porch steps. The second it hit the ground the top of the head popped open and a small note (written like a ransom letter mind you) popped out. This is exactly what it said PUSH MY BUTTON, TURN MY WHEEL, GUESS WHO.

So what do you think Jake and Alan did? I watched from the house in horror as they pushed the button on the arm of the doll. When they did that, 2 doors on the chest of it popped open revealing some gear-like things, a fake heart and some sort of internal speaker. (All of these things were basically supposed to be Frankenstein's guts.) When they tried to figure out how to get the thing to make noise the batteries had already been drained so you couldn't make out what it said. They put the doll down and went on their merry way to practice leaving me and Alek alone at the house wondering if the "Frankenstein/Snapple bottle bandit" was sitting somewhere watching the house.

I proceeded to do what any woman who is out of their mind would do. I called Chesterfield police to report what's been going on. Every cop in Chesterfield (all 2 of them) showed up at my front door like there was some kind of hostage situation in progress. I let them in and told them what's been going on. At one point my 5 year old chimed in "she thinks there's a bomb in Frankenstein." Yeah. Thanks for making me look even more nuts Alek.

I explained how I thought the opening of the doll's chest may have symbolized that my entire family was going to be gutted in the middle of the night. With our hi-tech security cameras down and the night watchman on vacation, I couldn't be too careful. I then asked them if they could take it to the station and dust it for fingerprints. (Yes. Really.) They said because Alan and Jake had also touched it that they would need to fingerprint them as well.

When Alan and Jake got back from practice I explained that I had called the police and that I made them take the note and the doll. The police chalked it up to me having a kid in high school and one of his "friends" trying to play a joke on him. I suppose this wouldn't be a far-fetched idea except that none of Jake's friends drive, and because our HS is regionalized and the townships are so spread out, someone would have to drive quite a distance in the middle of the night of early morning to get to our house. But, I'm not saying this isn't a possibility at all. Nevertheless Alan and Jake cracked up and made fun of me all night for calling the police to escort the battery-operated doll away.

About 9:00, while I lay in bed reading Jake continues the jokes and comes into my bedroom. He laid on my bed and just wouldn't knock it off. At which point I kindly reminded him that his bedroom is the one closest to the front porch and that he would probably be the first gutted. He continued to laugh, went into the litchen and made the sign that you see at the top of this blog. And yes, he taped it to the front door. Before he went to bed for the night I gently reminded him of when he and I watch "The Strangers", the movie that gave him nightmares for an entire week. I told him that when he's tied to a chair, writhing to get out of the position our Frankenstein bandit had put him in, that I'd just sit there and crack jokes.

Love you all,
CarrieAnn (there goes my "Mother of the Year" award once again)