The Most Amazing Thing EVER! I mean it...

Not really. I just wanted to lure you pretties into my web so I could bore you to death with the details of my week and save you for later...

ew.

Around 12 pm on Sunday, September 30th, did anyone else in the world feel the earth tilt not so gently to the left and then even less gently to the right? Because I did, and then I felt the wall when I hit it because it jumped right out in front of me as I tried to walk down the hall without looking like I was failing a sobriety test.

The next 3 days were spent begging God to stop shaking the snow globe or stop the merry-go-round or whatever He was doing to the world because I was gonna throw up. Every once in a while I would make an attempt to stand up on my two legs of jello (see them jiggle. sorry.) and try to do something, anything, because I could not stand the horrid crap they were serving up on the telly and my head hurt too bad to even think about reading or thinking for that matter.

I had to go back to work. It was just that bad.

I feel better now, thanks.

And sometime while I was deliriously fevered and unawares there was an invasion from another planet... The aliens came and took my sweet little 14 year-old respectful and obedient son and replaced him with some horrid demon possessed smart-mouth from their planet. I do not appreciate it and expect my real child's return very, very soon. Without harm. And recently fed.

Sigh. I was so very naive and foolish to believe that this part of teenage-dom would somehow pass me by, because I had a good relationship with my child and he always said I was a cool mom. Go ahead, laugh, I'll wait. Are you through? Okay, okay stop.

We still have a good relationship. I let him live and he only makes me suffer from one apoplectic fit a day. It was a big compromise I know, but it works.

I think I need to join a support group. Or maybe I could start one. I could call it PoTs, (Parent's of Teenagers). Or Crack PoTs - no explanation needed. And we could hold daily meetings and have sponsors who would make sure none of us end up in jail for attempted murder.

The next morning (after the switch) the pod boy walked in to the kitchen and tried to fool me into thinking my real son was back. He snuggled up to me and hugged me and said "I love you mom!" But I was not fooled, not this time, oh no. I was wise to his ways...and sure enough, when I got home from work, I caught him with his mask off. Boy was his head spinning and his 8 eyes were glowing and the forked tongue, *shudder* it was hideous.

Perhaps we need to have a priest come over and perform an exorcism...I think it will take a priest because I laid hands on him and yelled Jesus real loud and nothing happened. Of course my hands were around his neck and I wasn't calling on Jesus to heal him. Forgive me Lord.

O heed my words mommy's and daddy's of little ones. Heed. My. Words. Hug them. Hug them hard. And hold on to every snotty sticky whiny minute you have. Because one day you are going to wake up and find your sweet one is sweet no more.

Unless they want something.

Wait...earthquakes...wars...demons...angels of light and Nancy is cooking? Dude, I'm headed to Costco to buy up all the water diet coke and tuna Hawaiian barbecue chips I can find....it is the apocalypse!