There are many days where I miss the city. I loved my concrete backyard, the culture, the shopping, and most importantly, the anonymity.
However, I’ve concluded that living in a small town is what’s best for Alex and me at this time. I don’t have to commute, I’m able to volunteer in his classroom, and I have a community of people who sort of look out for him when I’m not there.
This story, however, has nothing to do with Alex – but it does with small towns.
A few weeks ago, Alex was spending the night with his friend so I called up my girlfriend to see if she wanted to get together for a glass of wine. She was in her sweats and didn’t feel like going out, so I brought over a few movies and she furnished the wine for a girl’s night. I left my house around 8:00pm and planned on being home around midnight so I didn’t kennel the dogs, but left the TV running on animal planet and the kitchen light on because....well because I’m weird like that.
So midnight came and went and after a few glasses of wine, I decided to just pass out on her couch.
I awoke the next morning to three missed calls from the Madtown Police Department.
(Insert circus music here)
I had purchased a new fire detector the day before as the one we had in the house was old and unreliable and if you’ve ever had my cooking, you know that a reliable fire detector is needed in our house.
I threw out the old fire detector which, presumably because of the bitter cold weather, started beeping in the garbage during the night. My neighbors called the police as they were concerned that an alarm was going off and the kitchen light had been on for awhile with no changes.
So the police called – no answer
They then came over and checked out the house, found the alarm and called again to tell me that they went into the house, searched, and the alarm that was sounding was the fire detector in the outside garbage.
The best part – one more call to tell me that the dogs looked thirsty so they refilled the water bowl.
How great is that! Chewy and Kiki had their water bowls refilled by the fine men and women who serve our community. When I arrived home, I found a mess in the kitchen where Kiki apparently couldn't wait for me to get home to go outside and potty. Maybe next time the fire department will be called and they'll take care of that mess for me.
On Tuesday morning, I woke up with what I presumed to be a spider bite right on my buttocks. 