Zombies and Freezer Cleaning

Well, we have less than 72 hours left here in the Midwest metropolis of St. Louis, and I am holding up surprisingly well. I have put a moratorium on packing because there are so many boxes piled all over my house that I can't figure out what to do. And, all these boxes are stressing my dog out so much, he is licking all the fur off of his body and developing nervous twitches, so I am chasing him with a broom and dustpan to scoop up the chunks of hair. Don't feel too sorry for him, though, because my guilt about him is being assuaged with giving him quality dog food. Of course, because I am moving, it means I have to clean out the refrigerator, so he is getting lots of people food, too. However, the hot dog I gave him the other day was clearly past its prime because he took it, started gagging, and threw it down on Bunny's art project. She was not pleased. And, the kids are not digging this move, either, mainly because Mommy is only coming in one form - SCREAMING mommy. I wake up freaked out, and it only escalates through the day. And, then, the poor little puppies come and mention the fact they are hungry/thirsty, and I SCREAM, "Can't you take care of it yourself?" In addition to the main food groups of pretzels, apple sauce, vanilla wafers, and canned beans which they can serve themselves, they now pour their own drinks. The other day, my four-year-old climbed up on a cabinet, got a cup, opened the fridge, and poured himself some milk. He was pleased about all of it except the half gallon of soymilk on the floor, but it did remind me that they are not Brazilian street kids and I shouldn't expect them to fend for themselves all the time. Hubby dear is not very excited about my cooking offerings, "What do you mean you don't want Andouille sausage, sweet potato fries, egg rolls, and potato latkes for supper? They are all in the freezer, aren't they? Who cares if they match or cause indigestion?"

So, we have been having a sleeping issue around here lately. The main one is my kids are reading books that are too sophisticated for them, which is resulting in them being freaked out about stuff. For example, do you children worry about Minotaurs? Revenants? Mine do, because they have been reading too many fantasy stories lately. I told my children that zombies are afraid of salt, so Bunny coated her bed with salt and Monkey Boy uses a shaker as his comfort item during sleep. Now, a neighbor who I normally adore, mentioned that salt is not effective for all zombies, so I will have to figure out what to do about the other types. I can't make fun of them, though, because I slept with a foot long, glow-in-the-dark crucifix for two years. And my mother took me to see Amityville Horror when it came out (I was in third grade), and just in case you don't remember, the little girl had an imaginary friend named Lucy who turned out to be a demonic pig. Guess what my imaginary friend's name was? Lucy. That is right. I was then convinced that Satan was personally after me and if I missed one Sunday School session, he was coming in my bedroom window to steal my soul. I was hoping the crucifix worked on both demons and vampires. Zombies weren't a concern, but I have also never seen a zombie movie because I tend to absorb new fears visually.

Off to pack!