It was a usual outing for us: Bud and his lovey, Sis and I, with Mommy driving. We were headed to the store to pick up some groceries to make chocolate mousse for Miss L from church. And to spend the $5 each that Pop had sent to Sis and Bud for Valentine's Day. They'd only just opened the cards today, not having noticed them in the family mailbox inside. But when Sis did finally open the pink envelope, the kitty card opened and a $5 bill fell out.
"Huh!" she exclaimed. "I have a money."
Mommy explained to her that it was $5 but she was incredulous, mainly because there was only one bill. That's my Sis, smart as a tack. "What would you like to buy? We can look at the store--there are books, art supplies--"
"Chocolate pudding."
And Bud wanted "fruit cookies," or fruit leather. So we all headed to the store after playing outside a bit. But Mommy didn't want Sis to get me dirty--Sis hates it when I have to take a bath--and so she put me in Sis's carseat to wait.
We got to the store and saw one of those "car carts" that Bud and Sis love. We all piled in and off we went. Mommy asked to hold the money but Sis had the bill clutched in one hand and me in the other. At one point, in produce, she dropped me but picked me up immediately. Mommy then offered to carry me so I wouldn't land on the floor again, but Sis said no, she would carry me.
At some point, however, she dropped me again. And no one noticed. Off the cart rolled, with Mommy, Sis, and Bud shopping for mousse makings, pudding, fruit leather, etc. And I just sat there on the dusty grocery store floor. At some point, a nice person noticed me sitting there and scooped me up, depositing me on an empty checkout aisle so somebody would find me. I was off the dirty floor and had a better view of things.
And I saw them all leave the store. They didn't know I was missing yet. Oh, dear. I love Sis. And she loves me. I can't live at the store. What will happen to me? I want to go home!
But not 10 minutes, later, I saw them again. I could hear Mommy talking to Sis, saying they would find me, that she had talked to several staff members, that she had drawn a picture of me and left our phone number, that we were going to walk every aisle again looking to see if someone had stashed me on a shelf, that Mama was on her way to help. They passed by me a few times, with Mommy and Sis becoming increasingly sad, Bud increasingly tired. And then I saw Mama and she walked up and down the aisles with Sis, left the store to check under the car, peered in trash cans, stopped every worker. Sis said she was a lucky girl to have two loveys, Amy Bunny and me. But then she said she couldn't go home because I always went with her, and she couldn't eat lunch because I always sat in the chair behind her. And she started to cry. And Mommy was crying too. But they all left.
Then about ten minutes later, Mama reentered the store. I could see her coming back to look again. And then she saw me! She found me! Mama found me! She scooped me up in one hand and began dialing Mommy's cell phone with the other.
"I found him," Mama said. "I'll meet you at home." I could hear Mommy tell Sis, who squealed with delight. And the relief was palpable for all of us.
It seemed like a long ride home but there Sis and Mommy were, getting out of the van. And when Mama stopped her car, Sis ran up to the car and Mama passed me over. Sis gave me a big sniff. I need a bath, but everyone decided that could wait til another day. It's good to be home.
-=-=-=-=-
The Minister's Chocolate Mousse
1 cup heavy whipping cream
3/4 cup semi-sweet chocolate chunks or chips
1 Tbsp granulated sugar
Place 1-2" of water in the bottom half of a double boiler. Bring to simmer over medium heat. Melt chocolate in upper half, stirring occasionally. Remove from heat once melted. Set aside.
In a chilled metal bowl, whip cream until soft peaks begin to form. Add in granulated sugar and whip for an additional 10-15 seconds.
Gradually stir in one spoonful of whipped cream into chocolate to temper. Continue to fold in whipping cream to chocolate until thoroughly combined.
Note: The Minister used Ghiradelli chocolate and did put lots of chocolate shavings in the mousse too.
Transfer to a martini glass, wine glass or other serving glass and chill for at least 15 minutes. Garnish with fresh berries, strawberries or whipped cream and chocolate shavings.
Showing posts with label shirt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label shirt. Show all posts
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Hell
We lost Shirt.
I knew it must be in the house, right? I hadn't taken the kids out when I first noticed it was missing. But then I got distracted, we did go out, and Sis noticed we didn't have it. But when we got home we played outside and then friends come over and though Shirt was still nowhere to be found, I wasn't worried.
But then she asked. And we started looking. And I couldn't find it. T, who was visiting, helped look where I couldn't easily--we lifted mattresses, moved couches, literally tore the house apart.
No Shirt.
For those of you not already panic-stricken, I will tell you about Shirt. Shirt was originally just a hand-me-down blue-and-gold striped jersey with long sleeves and a number 45 patch. It's a 12 month shirt, something Buddy wore when he was less than a year old. And at some point, Sis became attached to it. She liked to sniff it (especially along the buttons), to hold it, to sleep with it. Soon, it went everywhere we did. Except we managed to convince her that it was safer in the car when we went out. Now, though, Shirt even goes in with us but we've only had two other close calls with its disappearance. When Shirt needs a bath, Sis is hysterical. She'll watch it spin in the washer and cry. She sniffs it between washer and dryer and sadly waits for it to get dry. Otherwise, Shirt has the amazing ability to calm and soothe and comfort her. She asks for it when she's angry or tired or hurt. She knows to fetch it from wherever she previously abandonned it if she needs to regroup. It's her comfort mechanism, her special lovey. When we momentarily can't find it and then locate it, she does a great big sniff and sometimes a big smiling dance. If you're lucky, she'll occasionally offer to let you smell it too.
Actually, Shirt is a "he." Not sure why, except that he was her brother's. But he's hers now. She even gets posessive when she sees pictures of him wearing it. But she loves to see pictures of Shirt by itself.
Realizing how important Shirt was, we tried to find backups. We googled the label--it was a Wal-Mart store brand. Ugh, would I give money to them even for a back-up shirt? Luckily, I didn't have to solve that moral dilemma--we figured there was no way the shirt would still be there, a few years later. We looked elsewhere and found several close proximities. These became "cousin shirts," as in related and similar to the original, but not. The original became known as "Real Shirt," i.e. not an impostor, cousin shirt.
We've almost lost Shirt twice before--once at church when I had absentmindedly put it on my shoulder and then couldn't find it. We even made an announcement during service to help locate it. I did. In my bag. I must have equally as absentmindedly dropped it in there for safekeeping. Last weekend, birthday weekend, we took it in for dinner and at some point she handed it to me and I stuck it behind me on the chair. We got home for awhile before we realized it hadn't gotten home too. But they'd saved it. And we got it back before Sis really realized it had been missing. Sometimes, she does go a few hours without it.
Like today. And so we looked and looked and looked and all got increasingly nervous. Sis tried to be brave but every now and then she would mournfully cry out, "Real Shirt." J, who was visiting, was trying to help and repeatedly called out, "I found it." He had located a cousin shirt. There are at least 4 of them.
I called the vet to see if we'd accidentally stuffed it in the carriers when we dropped off the cats for "kitty camp." I called the woman who cleans my house and was here this morning to see if she'd come across it. I was in tears as I imagined never finding it again. I would be the mom who lost Shirt. This would be my worst mommy moment yet. See, I remember losing my special lovey. It was a blanket. At some point I got a replacement blanket which I loved as well and my other blanket was put away. But I still remember the day I went looking for the old beloved and was told it was gone. Devastated. Of all things, I did not want to repeat that with Sis. (Iit really is okay, Mom. I forgave you a long time ago. And now, even more, I see how easily these things happen).
T had to leave, her kids were past their naps and exhausted. She had looked everywhere and we couldn't find it. Mama had been called and would come home in an hour if we didn't find it. This was a real family crisis, without being an actual emergency. And as I stood on the porch, unable even to say goodbye without bursting into tears from the stress, I opened up the seat of the airplane scooter.
And there was Shirt.
I knew it must be in the house, right? I hadn't taken the kids out when I first noticed it was missing. But then I got distracted, we did go out, and Sis noticed we didn't have it. But when we got home we played outside and then friends come over and though Shirt was still nowhere to be found, I wasn't worried.
But then she asked. And we started looking. And I couldn't find it. T, who was visiting, helped look where I couldn't easily--we lifted mattresses, moved couches, literally tore the house apart.
No Shirt.
For those of you not already panic-stricken, I will tell you about Shirt. Shirt was originally just a hand-me-down blue-and-gold striped jersey with long sleeves and a number 45 patch. It's a 12 month shirt, something Buddy wore when he was less than a year old. And at some point, Sis became attached to it. She liked to sniff it (especially along the buttons), to hold it, to sleep with it. Soon, it went everywhere we did. Except we managed to convince her that it was safer in the car when we went out. Now, though, Shirt even goes in with us but we've only had two other close calls with its disappearance. When Shirt needs a bath, Sis is hysterical. She'll watch it spin in the washer and cry. She sniffs it between washer and dryer and sadly waits for it to get dry. Otherwise, Shirt has the amazing ability to calm and soothe and comfort her. She asks for it when she's angry or tired or hurt. She knows to fetch it from wherever she previously abandonned it if she needs to regroup. It's her comfort mechanism, her special lovey. When we momentarily can't find it and then locate it, she does a great big sniff and sometimes a big smiling dance. If you're lucky, she'll occasionally offer to let you smell it too.
Actually, Shirt is a "he." Not sure why, except that he was her brother's. But he's hers now. She even gets posessive when she sees pictures of him wearing it. But she loves to see pictures of Shirt by itself.
Realizing how important Shirt was, we tried to find backups. We googled the label--it was a Wal-Mart store brand. Ugh, would I give money to them even for a back-up shirt? Luckily, I didn't have to solve that moral dilemma--we figured there was no way the shirt would still be there, a few years later. We looked elsewhere and found several close proximities. These became "cousin shirts," as in related and similar to the original, but not. The original became known as "Real Shirt," i.e. not an impostor, cousin shirt.
We've almost lost Shirt twice before--once at church when I had absentmindedly put it on my shoulder and then couldn't find it. We even made an announcement during service to help locate it. I did. In my bag. I must have equally as absentmindedly dropped it in there for safekeeping. Last weekend, birthday weekend, we took it in for dinner and at some point she handed it to me and I stuck it behind me on the chair. We got home for awhile before we realized it hadn't gotten home too. But they'd saved it. And we got it back before Sis really realized it had been missing. Sometimes, she does go a few hours without it.
Like today. And so we looked and looked and looked and all got increasingly nervous. Sis tried to be brave but every now and then she would mournfully cry out, "Real Shirt." J, who was visiting, was trying to help and repeatedly called out, "I found it." He had located a cousin shirt. There are at least 4 of them.
I called the vet to see if we'd accidentally stuffed it in the carriers when we dropped off the cats for "kitty camp." I called the woman who cleans my house and was here this morning to see if she'd come across it. I was in tears as I imagined never finding it again. I would be the mom who lost Shirt. This would be my worst mommy moment yet. See, I remember losing my special lovey. It was a blanket. At some point I got a replacement blanket which I loved as well and my other blanket was put away. But I still remember the day I went looking for the old beloved and was told it was gone. Devastated. Of all things, I did not want to repeat that with Sis. (Iit really is okay, Mom. I forgave you a long time ago. And now, even more, I see how easily these things happen).
T had to leave, her kids were past their naps and exhausted. She had looked everywhere and we couldn't find it. Mama had been called and would come home in an hour if we didn't find it. This was a real family crisis, without being an actual emergency. And as I stood on the porch, unable even to say goodbye without bursting into tears from the stress, I opened up the seat of the airplane scooter.
And there was Shirt.
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