DRAT

The stalker children are here to stay. I can not begin to tell you how utterly disappointed I am about that. I forget when it was we found out, but Mom of stalkers poked her head out to say "HI!" as B was again watering his grass seed. (The man is now obsessed with growing grass out front.) So he asks, all innocent like, "How's the house hunt going?" And she says "Oh, we're not moving after all. . ." She then goes into this long diatribe about her divorce and the impossibility of finding the right house for their budget. Again I say, DRAT!

I'm going to run over one of those stalkers one day - not on purpose mind you, but it'll happen. You must all swear now to come to my sentencing and say nice things about me. Yesterday I come home from a quick jaunt to the store and pull into garage noticing that the lot of them are milling around outdoors. I squeeze my growing belly between the car and the side wall, having once again pulled in a bit too far to the left. Grab my purchases and nearly leap out of my skin as I hear "HI!" Mind you the stalker magnet (aka my child) is in the house napping while his Dad watches a ball game on TV. Littlest stalker does not know this. She just assumes that she's going to be able to tackle us as we unload ourselves from our car and glob on to us for a good hour.

"Oh, hi," I say. I try to keep moving, as if she won't notice - not that it matters to her. She's already managed to propel her scooter (on which he rides with no shoes and no helmet, mind you!) practically into my garage.

"I'm going to my friend's birthday party today at the carousel" she says and I think to myself 'Then why aren't you home changing into something actually weather and age appropriate instead of being a pain in my butt?' For the record this weekend has been rainy and cool for June. Its in the 60s and yet stalker kids seem to have an immunity to cold. C is running around in super short shorts and a belly bearing halter top that makes this now 6 year old look like she's a disillusioned 40 year old trying to be 18.

Instead I say "oh, that'll be fun. Have a good time." I move deeper into the garage - my back to her.

"Tomorrow is *my* birthday!" she says.

"Oh, neat," I say. "Happy Birthday!" I am now placing my hand on the door knob that will provide me escape from garage into basement. I check to see that she's not on my heels - yes, stalker child has attempted to enter the house before by following us in. This time though she's realized that her prey (aka the child) is not with me and she turns and starts to push herself back down our driveway.

"Oh!" she yells loud enough that I'm sure she's awoken my child at the other end of the house. "I got a hermit crab for my birthday. I'll come over later with it so L can see it."

I never responded and she never came over.