taking a peek back...
I thought for fun that I would dust off some old writing from the blog I used to post. So, here is a re-run from my head in 2011!
MONDAY, APRIL 18, 2011the aliens among usThere has existed for a long time now, the question of are we alone in the universe or are there others out there? Never mind how you feel about how the universe got here, everyone has their own beliefs about that. I'm talking about aliens. Now, I don't mean the grouchy, irritable alien life forms that take over your teenagers' bodies until they reach their early 20's. That is a temporary condition, God willing. I'm also not talking about the muppet-like ones from 80's sitcoms or movies. I'm referring to the ones that have inspired many a book, movie, television show and if you believe in such things, the conspiracy theory connected to our beloved government. I have decided that I do believe we are not alone, but not because I am not allowed to be a tourist in Roswell, NM, or any other restricted secret place. I believe in aliens in far more practical ways, and I believe they come to my house on a regular basis.
How do I know this? I know this for many reasons. For example, I look around my house and find piles of clutter all over the place. I am quite willing to own up to my own clutter but the other clutter? Books, papers, toys, shoes, food messes, trash...all not where it belongs, and it is a great mystery to all who live here. No one knows who made the messes, just that it wasn't them. Hence, I have no other choice than to believe that there is an alien who comes to party when we are all sleeping. I have to give credit, it or they never wake me up, so they could be considered most thoughtful guests, or would be if they cleaned up after themselves. On second thought, anyone who comes to my house to party and doesn't invite me is a rude one, indeed!
I believe our alien friend also has a sock fetish, albeit a somewhat upscale one. It is never the stained, worn out, stretched out or holes in the toes & heels socks that go missing. Oh no. It is usually Chris' good socks that turn up missing; the ones he wears to work. I believe the alien only has one leg, too. It's either that or the alien doesn't believe in matched sets, for it only steals one of each pair that it fancies. I find it hard to believe that I could possibly lose one of so many pairs of socks without help. I may not be the Brady Bunch housekeeper, but I am also not the slovenly wife that you see changing spots with the uppity, super anal-retentive clean freaky one on wifeswap, either.
Our alien must have a superstition or fear of empty containers, too. How else to explain the teaspoon of juice or milk left in the nearly empty container that is constantly found in my refrigerator? Perhaps the alien has a fear of cleaning; after all, everyone knows that if you finish the pitcher of drink or the container of food, you have to then wash it. Our alien does not appear to have working knowledge of trash cans or recycle bins, either. I come down almost daily to find my kitchen counters cluttered up with food wrappers, cereal boxes that need to be flattened and recycled, dirty pans to wash, drinking glasses and plates to be rinsed out for the dishwasher....I am not my children's maid and I sure don't want to clean up after alien parties, either, especially since I was not invited.
I have learned that aliens must have a sense of humor, though. Every time I watch one of my kids run around the house, (usually the boy) frantically searching for some item they "have to have" for school or whatever, since it is impossible for the kids to consider that something can't be found because THEY didn't put it away properly... I find myself thinking, it must therefore, be the fault of our alien, playing hide and seek with their belongings, just to mess with their heads. If I didn't have to hear the yelling and bickering and blaming one another for the missing items, I might find the entire thing completely entertaining. I might even make myself a small bowl of popcorn before I sit and watch the show. I will freely confess, though, that when it is I who is running around like the village idiot while searching for something that I have misplaced, it is not so funny!
One idea that I am kicking around is the thought of leaving a sort of sacrificial offering for our alien friend. Perhaps I can set out before I go to bed one night, a plateful of old socks or some junky snacks and a note proposing that the missing mates to Chris' socks be returned, a barter of sorts. Otherwise, I may have to play hardball and leave out a mop, vacuum and some dish soap instead. If anyone has better ideas, please let me know. Just don't tell me there are no aliens out there because I may just have to drown you in my pile of mismatched socks.