Saturday, March 12, 2011

Look For Trouble and You Will Find It: Part II

So, I freaked out when I saw the towels and read that note.   My face turned hot and I couldn't breathe like I needed a ventilator or something!  The words on my blog were soiled by sadness.  I mean seriously, who leaves a threat like, "Think Twice."

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Here's EXACTLY what the note said:

Dear Vicous Blogger and Babysitter-

Here are your dam towels.  
I can't believe you wrote about me on a public blog!  after years of friend ship.
There clothes weren't rags and I'm shocked you through them away!
I'm sure you want to put this on your blog, but think twice!
Don't bother calling me ever again!

Melon Girl


But as I kept thinking about it, three things bothered me.

1~ Why did she bring two towels that weren't mine? 
Had she completely fallen from the crazy train?  Or maybe she'd ruined my towels and brought different ones in exchange.  Whatever happened it WAS NOT normal.  But that wasn't saying much; since rekindling our contact, she'd proven anything but normal.

2~ Why had she signed the note "Melon Girl?"
Did she like the name so much she'd donned it as her own?  Was it a mastermind's attempt at mockery?  Was she shoving it in my face that I have no *sniff* *sniff* melons and she's "Melon Girl" while I'm--as flat as a "Board Boy?"  I didn't know, but that didn't sound like something she'd do--not her.  She'd never sign a note as "Melon Girl," and I found it equally disturbing that she'd leave it in the first place.

But people change and the truth is, I don't know her anymore.  We hadn't seen each other in over a decade.  

I just thought she'd be one of those friends I'd always have.  Even though we weren't best friends, we still had good times together.  That girl used to have class.  She'd be the one to help you when you had a hard moment.  We'd laugh together--we could just be real.  I still giggle about some of the things she'd say.  Once (in eighth grade) a girl told us she'd swallowed something and worried she was pregnant.  "Swallowed what?" I asked.

She blinked.  "You guys don't know.  Do you?  You don't know about the gift of life?"

"Well, I didn't know you could swallow it," my friend said.

"The Swallower" nodded very seriously.  So, after that I had NO CLUE what she was talking about.  I didn't know what in the Hell she swallowed, but I didn't want it near me.  Hopefully it wasn't prenatal vitamins, cherry pepsi, or something bad that had leaked into our water source again.  It's funny thinking back.  In eighth grade I thought I was old, but really we were all just babies.  Young and Naive.

3~ The third thing that bothered me was the threat, "Think Twice."
So, I wanted to post the note, but at the same time I was nervous.  This girl was obviously not the person I'd thought her to be.  Did she grow up and get a posse?  Was she in a gang where all the girls have to do their hair AND nails?  I didn't know for sure, but that thought made me nervous.

After much debate, I decided to consult the gurus on facebook.  If my life was an epic fantasy, and I needed to find . . . shall we say one ring to save them all--I wouldn't do a thing until AFTER consulting the facebook gurus.  These are people kind enough and thoughtful enough to give you real advice that will save you when and if you get a threat letter or need to go on a quest.

The gurus really got me thinking.  After dozens of comments, and many great ideas, I knew the best thing to do would be to call "Melon Girl."  Maybe she needed someone.  Plus, we'd been through a lot together.  We'd even talked to some girl who got pregnant--magically!

That's about the time my husband pulled into the driveway.  I told him the whole story.  He acted shocked, then slightly amused.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"Just you," he said.

"You think this is funny!" I spouted.  "I got a threat letter . . . and you think it's hysterical.  Well excuse me for not jumping all the way to Happyville, but I'm a bit freaked out.  I wrote a blog about this girl and maybe she has a gun!"

"I'm sure she doesn't."  He looked at me.  "You're really worried aren't you?"

"Well, yeah.  She already proved that she can steal towels.  What's to say she doesn't steal guns too."

"So, wow.  That's a big leap."

"To some!  But not to people who leave threat letters."  I opened my phone and began scanning down until the screen highlighted her number.

"What . . . are you doing?"

"I'm calling Melon Girl.  What does it look like I'm doing?  I feel bad, okay?  Maybe she wasn't nice.  Maybe she took my towels and brought back a set that doesn't belong to me, but we were friends once.  Maybe she's having a hard time.  Why would she call me after all these years?"

"Because she's already used everyone else and you're the only one who would watch her kids."

I scoffed.  And right when I was about to dial her number, Cade pointed to the sky.  "What's that?"  Then he swatted the phone out of my hands.

I gaped at my empty hand and then my phone sleeping in the cold grass.  "Ummm.  Okay.  What in the Hell was that?  Did you just swat the phone out of my hand?"

He stepped closer to me.

"Cade, you're acting worse than Melon Girl.  What is going on?"

"There was a . . . bug.  A spider on your phone."

"A spider?  There was no spider."

"There really was."  He paused.  "Okay fine, there was no spider."

I crossed my arms.  "And?"

"You can't call Melon Girl."

I didn't say a word.  What was his obsession with Melons anyway?  Why did it bother him who I did and did not call?

"You see," he shuffled his feet and glanced down, "she didn't leave you that note.  I read your blog today and thought it would be funny . . . "

As I watched him, the truth suddenly hit me.  My husband, my dear, sweet husband was . . . melon Girl!
"You!  You left me a threat letter."  I gasped as he looked at me.  My lip quivered--actually quivered in betrayal!  "You're Melon Girl!"

He laughed.  "Nah.  I'm not Melon Girl."

"But you left the note."

"Well, yeah, but no.  A friend did it for me."

"And that's why those towels weren't the ones she gave me.  And that's also why everything was spelled bad.  And, her handwriting . . . it was horrible!"  I blinked, still mad, but feeling better that the real Melon Girl hadn't left the note.


As reality hit, I realized something.  I could spin this in my favor.  I totally could.  My husband felt bad--I knew it.  He was indebted to me and I thought that was great!  Cade had done something bad.  Something anyone could dub as mean.  Maybe I could get him to do the dishes FOR A MONTH!  "I'm kinda hurt.  Seriously, why would you do something like that?"  I feigned sadness and pulled a set of Puss and Boots eyes from thin air.

"I just thought it would be funny after you pranked Mary.  I figured I'd show you how to really . . . prank a pranker."

"When you had him write 'think twice'?  That was supposed to be funny?"  As the words left my mouth, Cade's face turned so sad, so utterly regretful that I couldn't hold my laughter.  The whole thing WAS hilarious!  Cade even laughed after a second too.  We just stood there in our merriment, thinking about those stupid towels and the whole situation.  How I'd been terrified and how Cade hadn't thought I'd freak out.  He'd just thought I'd get a kick out of it and then he'd tell me it was his awesome idea.


He hugged me after that.  "I'm sorry I freaked you out . . . but I guess it was kinda funny," he said.


"That's okay.  I hope you like dishes."  I smiled with twinkling eyes because that poor guy picked a real winner when he got me.

So, everything did turn out okay.  I'm so glad.  I don't have to do the dishes for a month and I'm going to call the real Melon Girl.  I don't want her thinking she can use me, but at the same time I want her to know I'm here if she needs a friend.  Hopefully she's doing okay and I pray she'll never read my blog!





P. S. Can you think of a way for me to get back at my crafty husband?  I still can't believe that turd did this to me.  I'll show him how to prank a pranker!