A/N: I warned you they would be coming fast and furious. It appears that
some of you are having trouble submitting a review. If the submit box won't
cooperate, just click my name in blue there and go back to the bio page.
Click on my e-mail address and send your lub ledder like that. It won't
count toward the total, but we don't really care about the numbers at this
point. It's just good to hear from each of you.
Big thanks to PuterPatty, who I am working to death right now with the constant beta'ing thing. Hang onto your hat, nin-mel, or "faek me" is liable to snitch it. Thanks to leail, too, who's just trying to keep up with the two of us. I won't be able to make it without you guys.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 18 Comedy, Romance, or Tragedy?
Okay. The countertop's been ordered. We've checked to see that the linoleum can be matched to the undamaged part still left in the dining room and have ordered a new piece. The new stove is on its way, and the local hardware store that we bought it from has agreed to keep it until we're ready to install so that it doesn't have to sit out in the cold on the carport. The new sink is twice as deep, the new faucet twice as tall, and they're both as gleamy and shiny as a brand new quarter, sitting in their boxes in a corner of the dining room.
Lil' Pip and I have only one week left before we finish the play we're currently in. I got snagged into doing this play by asking to paint the scenery and help build the set. Normally that's just a two-weekend sort of thing, an intense four days of climbing ladders and slinging paint, but not very long-term time consuming (plus I have Legolas, who's pretty good at painting and a real whiz at scaling extension ladders and reaching things no mortal would even attempt). Now I find myself with four acting parts, and one of them is the six-woman, three-part harmony, tap-dancing snake from the Garden of Eden.
Did I mention I can't dance?
Well, other than slow dancing with Yes Dear and doing the Electric Slide. I can do that. Otherwise, I pretty much have two left feet.
I keep reassuring myself that I'll have four days to rest after the play closes before Joe comes to replace the floor, and then another week after that before the new cabinets will be here and ready for installing. Plenty of time, even for an inherently lazy mortal like me.
Home Depot calls on Friday before the end of the play. The cabinets have arrived at the warehouse a week early, and they want to know when we can come to pick them up.
Yes Dear's more than eager to go get them and get started. He takes Lil' Pip with him while Legolas and I make a place to put the boxes in the dining room. We have to move all of the things we had taken out of the old cabinets when we washed the mold off, stashing them here and there throughout the house. Soon the whole house is covered in dishes, Tupperware, toasters, spatulas, blenders, mixing bowls, baking paraphernalia, and colanders.
In two hours time, we've gone from our reasonably messy state of living to total and complete chaos. There wasn't this big of a mess after Hurricane Hugo hit us at twenty miles south of ground zero fifteen years ago.
Yes Dear and Lil' Pip pull up into the carport with the goods. We make quick work of dragging everything in. Legolas is so excited about the whole thing that he's hauling boxes at twice the speed of everybody else.
"Dis is FUEN!" he exclaims as he flies by me through the screen door, his arms loaded with cardboard boxes.
When all is said and done, we have added to our already bursting house a grand total of forty-eight boxes, six boards, one valance, and a bottle of touch-up repair liquid.
Like we're really gonna need that, right?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Legolas and Yes Dear manage to make it through the night without removing anything. They actually make it through all of Saturday too, but that's only because we're all busy down at the theater with the play. Yes Dear's been recruited as the props master backstage, and ends up being the one to make sure all thirty of the little children actors and actresses get stuffed into the correct costumes and gently shoved onto the stage at precisely the exact right moment. If they seem a bit reluctant, it's only because they've been there and done that every night for two weeks now, and they're bored with it. You can only watch videos in the Green Room so many nights in a row before your brain fries, even at four years old.
Legolas is the props master's assistant. His job is to do whatever Yes Dear needs help with. This includes breaking up play fights, picking up the cards after the twentieth game of War in a row, making sure everyone gets a turn in the bathroom before intermission, and supervising the trips to the water fountain. (In case you're wondering why the water fountain needs supervision, it seems most of the children only reach halfway up the side of the thing, and they all need to be lifted and held while they get their drinks. The first night we had a litter of wet kittens onstage during the story of Genesis because no one was at the fountain to help them out. By the time we got to the Noah's Ark scene and a little water didn't matter, they had all dried out.)
I really hadn't ever considered Legolas as a potential father until I rounded the stage left corner Saturday night at a sliding run, headed for a quick costume change in the dark at the bottom of the stairwell where I hoped no one could see me. There he stood, hunched over the water fountain, with little Amy-Elizabeth clutched under his arm, balancing her on his bent thigh as he used the other hand to help her push the button that makes the water come out. She was lapping at the water like a kitten, and he was giggling softly and nuzzling her hair with his forehead like a father cat might do.
He's so good at this. He loves the children tremendously. I decide right then and there that he's got to go back home, if for nothing else to at least have the chance to have children of his own, children of his species that he can love and cherish forever. Not mortal children who will grow old and die before him, leaving him alone. Immortal children, sons and daughters of a father who will never grow old in their eyes, offspring of a noble and sacred race.
Elflings.
Whoa, now I'm late for my entrance back onstage.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sunday arrives bright and sunny. After church, Legolas and Yes Dear set about dismantling my kitchen.
"Goe?" asks elfboy, his hands clutched firmly on one of the lower cabinet doors.
"No!" shouts Yes Dear.
"Noe?"
"No. We've got to have a plan."
Elfboy stares. He blinks. He waits. Finally he questions, "A plaen?"
"Yes. We can't just go ripping things apart. I'd like to use some of these cabinets out in the laundry room."
"Oeh."
An hour later, I find myself summoned to the kitchen. No more hiding in the computer room for me.
Yes Dear is standing in the middle of the kitchen floor holding a hammer and a pair of vise grips. Legolas is standing in the middle of the hole where my moldy cabinet used to be.
"I need you to help Legolas hold up the cabinet while I take the nails out of the wall and ceiling," says Yes Dear.
You know, I'm thinking it would be a better idea if HE held the cabinet up while I take the nails out of the ceiling. Those suckers look heavy, and the piece he's pointing to with that hammer is three cabinets wide, apparently all hooked together as one piece.
"You'll need to stand under there," he says, indicating the hole where Legolas is currently standing, trying not to touch anything because everything is still all black even though the mold has been bleached dead. The hole is only one cabinet wide. Legolas shimmies over a bit, but it's still quite a squeeze for both of us to fit in. We stand back to back, squatting down just a bit to get ourselves underneath the top cabinets, our arms above our heads supporting the bottom of the cabinets.
Yes Dear drags over the little stepladder and climbs up to the top. He sticks his head inside the cabinet and begins hauling back on the nailheads in the ceiling.
Legolas nudges me with his backside. "Deed u sea me uze da poewr dreel skreuwdrievur?"
I can't see his face, but I can feel his grin straight through where his body is mashed up against mine. He's actually quivering.
"No, Prance, I'm sorry I missed that. Yes Dear let you use the drill, did he? You're doing better than me then. He doesn't like me to touch the power tools."
"I tuuk all da doars oeff. Sea?"
He takes one hand off the cabinets above our heads and points. The cabinet drops about an inch.
"Whoa! Whoa!" yells Yes Dear.
"Soerrie!" says Prance Helpful. He puts his hand back on the bottom of the cabinet.
"Actually, that's great, buddy. That pulled the nails out a bit. Now push it back up and let me see if the nailheads will stick out where I can get a better hold on them."
We dutifully lift the cabinets together. Yes Dear pulls a few more nails and clambers back down the stepladder.
"Okay," he says. "Now let's lower it."
Legolas and I stop pushing up and prepare to take the weight of the cabinets. We both look at each other.
"Stop pushing," I tell him.
"I'm noet puesheeng. U ar," he retorts.
"I'm not pushing, see?" I reply, taking my hands completely off the wood above my head.
"Me eethur!" he answers, taking his hands off too.
Nothing happens. Well, except that we're both foolishly standing beneath a bank of three cabinets that are suspended by nothing but magic above our heads and gaping at each other.
"Hmmm. . . ," says Yes Dear. "Maybe I missed a couple." He climbs back up the stepladder and sticks his head into the cabinet. "Push it up again?"
We push up. It goes up. He looks up. Finally he speaks up.
"I don't see anything. Try pulling down on it."
We both put a hand inside the cabinet and tug. The cabinet slides down about a quarter of an inch and stops again.
"Hmmmm. . . . ," says Yes Dear.
"Waent us tu due dat agin?" asks Prance Helpful.
"Sure," answers my husband the engineer. "It must be just wedged in here between the doorframe and the other set of cabinets."
Ten minutes later, with Legolas hanging by all fours from the bottom of the cabinet pulling for all he's worth and hubby and I tugging mightily at the cabinet from each end, Yes Dear decides we should take a break while he goes to get the crowbar to pry it from the ceiling. I've actually worked up a sweat, which I normally avoid if possible. I look over at Legolas, who's still just as pretty as if he were preparing to go to Council meeting.
"Your hair's messed up," I tease.
"Noe it'z noet!" he exclaims, reaching up to check his hair with his hands as he stands up quickly, completely forgetting that he's still standing under the cabinet. His right shoulder impacts the bottom of the cabinet hard, and as it does, the cabinet comes crashing down the wall. Prance Helpful has just enough time to leap out of the way, landing with a thud on his rear on the floor.
"OOoooeeepppzzz!" he blurts, staring wide-eyed at the mess.
"Are you okay?" I gasp.
"Noe," he whines.
"Legolas, tell me where you're hurt, sweetie," I plead, flying to his side to assist.
"I goet saewduest en my haer noew!"
Gees.
While he frantically brushes the sawdust from his golden locks, I reach over and pull the neck of his t-shirt over so I can see his shoulder. There's not a mark on him. Not even a pink spot.
"Kwit dat!" he growls, swatting at my hand. "Hep me git dis duest owda my hare."
"Aw, leave it in there," says Yes Dear, returning with the crowbar. "It makes you look . . .real."
"Reel?" asks the Prance.
Yeah. Real.
"C'mon, buddy. Let's get the rest of these down so we can start cutting with the circular saw."
Elfboy's off the floor in a flash, his dusty mane forgotten.
It takes most of the afternoon to get the rest of the upper cabinets down. After a short break for supper, garnered by car from the closest McDonald's, Yes Dear excuses me to go back to my typing on the compy. I'm not stupid. I know his real reason is to get rid of me so he can pull out the power tools.
"You're getting out those loud tools again, aren't you, Daddy?" glares Lil' Pip. "That noise makes my stomach hurt."
Without waiting for an answer, she's off down the hallway, presumably to watch some Scooby Doo videos on her television in her room.
As I head for the computer room, I have no trouble spotting the twinkle in the Prance's eyes. He's so excited he's all but twitching.
I lean over and whisper in Yes Dear's ear. "Don't you dare let him get hurt. Make him wear the safety goggles."
"Quit worrying, okay?" he answers. "Nothing's going to happen."
Oh yeah, baby. (c al)
In less than five minutes the ear-splitting whir of the circular saw is roaring throughout the house, followed by hammering and the sound of the power drill. Then there's some grunting and some groaning, after which I hear some scraping and some sliding and then the sound of the back door being opened.
The process repeats itself over and over. They're actually laughing in the midst of it all too, sort of a male-bonding thing I guess. I just hope Yes Dear's not teaching him any dirty jokes to take back to Middle-earth.
Suddenly there's a loud yelp followed by the sound of something solid crashing into the floor. I leap from the computer chair and dash out to the other room, almost bowling Lil' Pip over as she does the same thing. From our collision spot in the hallway I can see Legolas digging in the freezer and Yes Dear running cold water over his hand in the bathroom sink.
"What happened?" I ask.
"I pinched my finger," says Yes Dear.
"Oh. Is that all?"
"Luuk at heez leedle feengur, al! It'z all swoellin uep alreedy!" Legolas hands over the ice pack he's found in the freezer.
Sure enough, hubby's little finger is swelling like mad, just the last part where the fingernail is. It already looks like a very large red grape, you know those kind that have the seeds in them.
"That's nasty, Dad," says Lil' Pip.
"How'd you do that?" I ask.
"Went to pull a nail from the wall, and the vise grip slipped and I bashed my finger into the side of the cabinet."
"Woew. Dat'z ueglee," says the pretty Prance.
I fix it up with a bit of Vet-Wrap adhesive pressure dressing that we keep for boo-boo's on our pets. Yes Dear returns to his dismantling not too worse for the wear, sporting a large bright purple bandage on the end of his little finger.
"I like ur baendayd," I hear Legolas say. "Deedn't she hav eni grean wonz?"
"Nope. No green. All she had left was pink," says my injured better-half. "You better be careful. You wouldn't want to get a pink one, would you?"
"Gag, pink," says Lil' Pip, pretending to stick her finger down her throat. "Yuck."
Legolas ponders this a moment before shaking his head no.
Lil' Pip heads back to her room to finish her movie, and I head back to the compy to work on my beta reading. Yes Dear pulls Legolas aside as I walk by.
"You've got your work cut out for you, buddy. I'm really gonna need you now."
I look back over my shoulder to see the bright gleam of shining teeth from a smile that must be three yards wide. Elfboy's in seventh heaven.
Soon the circular saw is roaring away again. I'm feeling more confident now, knowing that if Yes Dear's not able to saw then at least he'll have to supervise more closely since there's not much else he can do. That's about the time I hear it.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEYYYYYYYYY!!!!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lub Ledders frum Legolas
Max Jive: Az u kin sea, dat power saew iz skaerrie! I hav meesd u! Welkum bak! *huegz an keesiz u bak*
anna: Kungratshulashunz oen bying da Chreestmus praesuntz ursef! I lub tu goe tu da maell whin it'z kroewdid an set oen da baench seetz an wach da peepul. Dere stile of faeshuen amaeziz me. *bloewz u a kees*
daw the minstrel: I theenk da laydee at Valinor neadz a vakashun. She seamz a bit peenchd. *rattlz baeg of kownturtoep cheepz* Dey due sownd perty, doen't dey? *seandz a hueg tu u*
Landos Star: Sea, she sed I'm kuet. . . . You said that last time, now concentrate. Ar u fealin bedder?I doen't like tu here ur seeck. Da neuw keechin shuld bea redy bie Chreestmus. *huegz u agin kaerfuelly soe it duzn't huert*
Writer from Rivendell: al sez I kin't coem tu laebz uentill I feenish en da keechin. Mebbe I culd coem on da seexteenth? Iz dat okae? Elves doen't git seeck soe I weel keez u eniwae *smuuch*
Newmoon: *skweazez u* Buet havn't u sean da spaerkuleey shieny poetz an paenz, an da huendrid deefrint kiendz of shoewr kuertinz, an u kin eben git a wier thaeng tu haeng ur bandanaz oen fur da keechin! That's B.A.N.A.N.A.S., Prance. Bananas. Kin we git won? Honey, the bananas don't make it from the store to the house before you eat them now. What do we need one for? *sieghz*
Katani Petitedra: Lieneer ekwashunz ar deze leedle wurmz dat sneek owt of ur maf buuk an kraewl entu ur eerz eif u fael aseleep duereeng klass. Bea kaerful. *patz u oen da haed*
Tricia: Some seem to know who Legolas is, but in this town most aren't too concerned with his being a foreigner as long as he's just passing through, if you know what I mean. Hae, Tricia! I weel giv won of ur mueffinz tu Connie an sea if dat hepz. Deed u git my "faek me" pikshure yaet? I haed tu taek al'z chokolit coevurd chaerriez uentell she maled dem. *snuegglz u*
Arienna DyBane: Wekkum bak! I meesd u! Hoew iz skool goeng? al sez ur kwestshun iz a guud won. Due u miend if she ansurz it en da neaxt awthur'z noetz? *gievz u an elf kuukie*
Holly :o ) : *blueshiz* A Wael of Legolas? *geeglz* Oeh, deer! Dat sowndz soert of skaerie. Buet whie deed u steek a tyle oen da bak of da doar tu? *cueddlz u*
Nilmandra: I mite noet bea maerried tu al, buet I doen't git tu due whuteber I waent. Doen't wurry abot al an Yaes Deer, dey ar MFEO, remimbur? *gievz u a grate beeg kees*
JastaElf: *sings Jeopardy theme song with you while I wait for the Prance to recover* Yuck. Mold. Nasty stuff indeed. *helps the Prance up from the floor* Here you go. . . .Hae, Jasta! Kungratshulashunz oen ur Nonamowra theeng, kwest, meeshun. . . awaerd thaeng. Sae hae tu Ada fur me, okae? Doze hoet tueb paerteez reely ware a guey owt. I theenk dat da laydee at Valinor jest iz haevin a baed dae like Tricia sed. *skeepz da paert abot da peenuet budder an leatz Jasta taek caer of dat won all bie hersef* Hear'z a hueg an a kees fur u, Jasta. Giev Ada a skweeze fur me.
Space-Case 7029: I spend most of my time nowadays getting ganged up on by a smelly man and an elf. It's good to know you're thinking of me. Hae, Audra! Wate teel u sea da koewntur toep! I em soe prowd! If u waent tu fiend owt hoew I lernd tu skee oen da shield, u shuld tipe en daw the minstrel'z naem en da fiend boex uep dere *poyntz tu da toep of da paege* an reed her stoerrie, "Watch This!" U weel lub it! *snuegglz u*
The Two Princesses: I em noet alloewd tu plae wid da saew. Oenly seerius wurk, noe plaeing. Poewur griendur? Hummm. . .Dat sownds eenturaesteeng. . . . Eberythaeng iz payd fur alraedee. We haed tu uze da Deezneewurld muney, buet dis kunstrukshun wurk iz jest az muech fuen, I theenk. I puet won of doze keesiz oen my toew whur I droeppd da haemmur oen it laest tiem, buet I theenk I mite nead sum moer if u hav sum tu spaer, az u kin sea. Hear'z sum fur u tuu! *xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox*
Lady Peredhel: Bea shur u giev it bak whin u ar dun den! Da PC, I meen. I sneek entu maerrige klaess all da tiem an noebuddie seamz tu miend, I theenk u mite culd coem tu. I em waeteeng tu here all abot da daet wid da frashlee-kleend hueman. *bloewz keesiz fur u tu keap*
Michelle6: I haed a guud Thaenksgeeveeng. We weant tu Ryan'z Staekhowse an aet wae tuu muech fuud! We culd eet eben moer beacawze we deedn't hav tu kleen it uep! *Beeg huegz u*
MagicalRachel: I doen't plae wid da poewr tuulz. Oenlee seriius wurk. Yaes Deer sez dey ar noet toeyz. Thaenk u fur da envitashun tu coem tu Eenglaend an stae wid u. al sez thaenk u tuu. I saevd dis jest fur u *KEES*
PuterPatty: GGGAAAAAAEEEEEHHHH!!!! *cuvurz uep da moest teekleesh spoet wid bof haendz, groewlz at u* Giv me dat faethur. *graebz it frum u* Hae, it'z noet DAT kiend of maerrige klaess. We ar a vary fuen an seely gruup. Dey wuld hav tu bea, leatteng al breeng tuu mailz tu klaess wid her. Whut du u meen, elves and poewr saewz wearn't MFEO? Sea hoew I haenduld dat kraenkee Connie? She jest haed a baed dae an neadid tu liten uep. Da gesseeng gaem iz guud fur dat. al sez she wuld juemp oen gitting sumwon tu due da Traedeeng Plaesiz thang wid her tu due da keetchin. Oeh, goesh! Luuk ober dere! Iz dat da guey whoe theenkz he iz me? He'z NEKKID!! *wates teel u luuk an den teekulz u wid da faethur en UR moest teeklesh plase!* Heahea! Soe gullabull. . . .
VladimirsAngel: I proemiss tu bea vary kaerful frum noew oen wid da poewur saew. *wheespurz en ur eer* I kaen't tael enibuddie abot da peenuet bueddur. Haldir thraetund tu uze it oen me if I deed. *seandz u a kees an a hueg*
Angaloth: I LUB POEWUR TUULZ. I em goeng tu git a t-shurt dat sez dat an ware it uendur my toonik whin I goe bak tu Meedl-erth. I kin git ur lub ledderz jest as ezy frum da e-male, soe jest keap sinding dem dat wae if da siete woent wurk fur u. **kueddlz u*
leail: Coem an plae wid my tylez, baybee. I kin shoew u thaengz. . . . *leekz leepz beafour snoegging u*
Cara7: A snoe elf! I lub snoe elfz! Dat wuld bea grate. I steel neber deed lern tu ried a biek. I gess I culd uze sum leassunz oen dat tu. U neber deed tael me ur faevurit culur, nin mellon. Whut iz it? *seandz u a hueg*
Andy8: Sea?? Neuw koewnturtoepz kin bea a loet of fuen! U shuld trie it baerfuut wid da deesh soep tuu, noew DAT'Z sumptin tu sae, "Watch Dis!" fur. Tael ur mum u waent tu reed daw the minstrel'z stoerrie abot me lerneeng tu skaet oen a sheeld. Den u kin sae, "Wach Dis!" tuu! *hie fievz u wid my soepy haendz*
kimmaree: *seandz u huegs an keesiz* U kin alwaez tipe al'z e-male if da siet iz noet wurkin. I chek doze tu. We git a loet moer dat wae, an we hav gievin uep on reechin a thowsend reeveewz eniwae. Da e-male adraess iz oen al'z bio paege whur "faek me" iz. I woen't bea hear fur Chreestmus dis tiem, buet I weel bea theenkin of all of u. *seandz u anuthur hueg an kees*
Grammar Laedee: Oeh! Yaeh, dat Leedle Peep iz won tu wach owt fur. She'z jest like her mum. She duz akt like my seestur Laerlend bak en Mirkwood. I weel taek ur advize an neber leat her noe I em pertekteeng her. Dat sowndz like a guud ideea. *Huegz u bak an seandz a beeg kees*
Deb: I keap taelling eberybuddie dat eberythaeng weel bea alrite. I sertinlee hoep I'm rite. I kin danse tu all da Beedlez, an Beely Idoel, an Stickz, an Jurney, an of corse, Jon Deanvur. I reely rok doeng "Thaenk Gawd I'em a Kuntree Boey". It'z a guud theeng u rote whin u deed, I wuz jest abot tu puesh poest! **seandz u sum sweat elbin lub, baybee!*
Raider-K: Oeh yaeh, baybee! (c Legolas) I em sumpthaeng wid poewur tuulz. *wheepz da skreuwdrievurs arond like leedle wite nifz* Sea? Uhm, Prance? Yaes? Those screwdrivers aren't power tools. They're just Phillips heads. *luukz at da skreuwdrievurz* Oeh, yaeh. . . . *Geeglz an bloewz u a kees*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Next post this weekend. Better hurry, I'm typing as fast as I can and I hope you'll do the same. Don't want you to miss out on the free elf lovin' while it lasts. Less than two weeks left, and counting. . . . but I don't want to talk about it.
Big thanks to PuterPatty, who I am working to death right now with the constant beta'ing thing. Hang onto your hat, nin-mel, or "faek me" is liable to snitch it. Thanks to leail, too, who's just trying to keep up with the two of us. I won't be able to make it without you guys.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 18 Comedy, Romance, or Tragedy?
Okay. The countertop's been ordered. We've checked to see that the linoleum can be matched to the undamaged part still left in the dining room and have ordered a new piece. The new stove is on its way, and the local hardware store that we bought it from has agreed to keep it until we're ready to install so that it doesn't have to sit out in the cold on the carport. The new sink is twice as deep, the new faucet twice as tall, and they're both as gleamy and shiny as a brand new quarter, sitting in their boxes in a corner of the dining room.
Lil' Pip and I have only one week left before we finish the play we're currently in. I got snagged into doing this play by asking to paint the scenery and help build the set. Normally that's just a two-weekend sort of thing, an intense four days of climbing ladders and slinging paint, but not very long-term time consuming (plus I have Legolas, who's pretty good at painting and a real whiz at scaling extension ladders and reaching things no mortal would even attempt). Now I find myself with four acting parts, and one of them is the six-woman, three-part harmony, tap-dancing snake from the Garden of Eden.
Did I mention I can't dance?
Well, other than slow dancing with Yes Dear and doing the Electric Slide. I can do that. Otherwise, I pretty much have two left feet.
I keep reassuring myself that I'll have four days to rest after the play closes before Joe comes to replace the floor, and then another week after that before the new cabinets will be here and ready for installing. Plenty of time, even for an inherently lazy mortal like me.
Home Depot calls on Friday before the end of the play. The cabinets have arrived at the warehouse a week early, and they want to know when we can come to pick them up.
Yes Dear's more than eager to go get them and get started. He takes Lil' Pip with him while Legolas and I make a place to put the boxes in the dining room. We have to move all of the things we had taken out of the old cabinets when we washed the mold off, stashing them here and there throughout the house. Soon the whole house is covered in dishes, Tupperware, toasters, spatulas, blenders, mixing bowls, baking paraphernalia, and colanders.
In two hours time, we've gone from our reasonably messy state of living to total and complete chaos. There wasn't this big of a mess after Hurricane Hugo hit us at twenty miles south of ground zero fifteen years ago.
Yes Dear and Lil' Pip pull up into the carport with the goods. We make quick work of dragging everything in. Legolas is so excited about the whole thing that he's hauling boxes at twice the speed of everybody else.
"Dis is FUEN!" he exclaims as he flies by me through the screen door, his arms loaded with cardboard boxes.
When all is said and done, we have added to our already bursting house a grand total of forty-eight boxes, six boards, one valance, and a bottle of touch-up repair liquid.
Like we're really gonna need that, right?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Legolas and Yes Dear manage to make it through the night without removing anything. They actually make it through all of Saturday too, but that's only because we're all busy down at the theater with the play. Yes Dear's been recruited as the props master backstage, and ends up being the one to make sure all thirty of the little children actors and actresses get stuffed into the correct costumes and gently shoved onto the stage at precisely the exact right moment. If they seem a bit reluctant, it's only because they've been there and done that every night for two weeks now, and they're bored with it. You can only watch videos in the Green Room so many nights in a row before your brain fries, even at four years old.
Legolas is the props master's assistant. His job is to do whatever Yes Dear needs help with. This includes breaking up play fights, picking up the cards after the twentieth game of War in a row, making sure everyone gets a turn in the bathroom before intermission, and supervising the trips to the water fountain. (In case you're wondering why the water fountain needs supervision, it seems most of the children only reach halfway up the side of the thing, and they all need to be lifted and held while they get their drinks. The first night we had a litter of wet kittens onstage during the story of Genesis because no one was at the fountain to help them out. By the time we got to the Noah's Ark scene and a little water didn't matter, they had all dried out.)
I really hadn't ever considered Legolas as a potential father until I rounded the stage left corner Saturday night at a sliding run, headed for a quick costume change in the dark at the bottom of the stairwell where I hoped no one could see me. There he stood, hunched over the water fountain, with little Amy-Elizabeth clutched under his arm, balancing her on his bent thigh as he used the other hand to help her push the button that makes the water come out. She was lapping at the water like a kitten, and he was giggling softly and nuzzling her hair with his forehead like a father cat might do.
He's so good at this. He loves the children tremendously. I decide right then and there that he's got to go back home, if for nothing else to at least have the chance to have children of his own, children of his species that he can love and cherish forever. Not mortal children who will grow old and die before him, leaving him alone. Immortal children, sons and daughters of a father who will never grow old in their eyes, offspring of a noble and sacred race.
Elflings.
Whoa, now I'm late for my entrance back onstage.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sunday arrives bright and sunny. After church, Legolas and Yes Dear set about dismantling my kitchen.
"Goe?" asks elfboy, his hands clutched firmly on one of the lower cabinet doors.
"No!" shouts Yes Dear.
"Noe?"
"No. We've got to have a plan."
Elfboy stares. He blinks. He waits. Finally he questions, "A plaen?"
"Yes. We can't just go ripping things apart. I'd like to use some of these cabinets out in the laundry room."
"Oeh."
An hour later, I find myself summoned to the kitchen. No more hiding in the computer room for me.
Yes Dear is standing in the middle of the kitchen floor holding a hammer and a pair of vise grips. Legolas is standing in the middle of the hole where my moldy cabinet used to be.
"I need you to help Legolas hold up the cabinet while I take the nails out of the wall and ceiling," says Yes Dear.
You know, I'm thinking it would be a better idea if HE held the cabinet up while I take the nails out of the ceiling. Those suckers look heavy, and the piece he's pointing to with that hammer is three cabinets wide, apparently all hooked together as one piece.
"You'll need to stand under there," he says, indicating the hole where Legolas is currently standing, trying not to touch anything because everything is still all black even though the mold has been bleached dead. The hole is only one cabinet wide. Legolas shimmies over a bit, but it's still quite a squeeze for both of us to fit in. We stand back to back, squatting down just a bit to get ourselves underneath the top cabinets, our arms above our heads supporting the bottom of the cabinets.
Yes Dear drags over the little stepladder and climbs up to the top. He sticks his head inside the cabinet and begins hauling back on the nailheads in the ceiling.
Legolas nudges me with his backside. "Deed u sea me uze da poewr dreel skreuwdrievur?"
I can't see his face, but I can feel his grin straight through where his body is mashed up against mine. He's actually quivering.
"No, Prance, I'm sorry I missed that. Yes Dear let you use the drill, did he? You're doing better than me then. He doesn't like me to touch the power tools."
"I tuuk all da doars oeff. Sea?"
He takes one hand off the cabinets above our heads and points. The cabinet drops about an inch.
"Whoa! Whoa!" yells Yes Dear.
"Soerrie!" says Prance Helpful. He puts his hand back on the bottom of the cabinet.
"Actually, that's great, buddy. That pulled the nails out a bit. Now push it back up and let me see if the nailheads will stick out where I can get a better hold on them."
We dutifully lift the cabinets together. Yes Dear pulls a few more nails and clambers back down the stepladder.
"Okay," he says. "Now let's lower it."
Legolas and I stop pushing up and prepare to take the weight of the cabinets. We both look at each other.
"Stop pushing," I tell him.
"I'm noet puesheeng. U ar," he retorts.
"I'm not pushing, see?" I reply, taking my hands completely off the wood above my head.
"Me eethur!" he answers, taking his hands off too.
Nothing happens. Well, except that we're both foolishly standing beneath a bank of three cabinets that are suspended by nothing but magic above our heads and gaping at each other.
"Hmmm. . . ," says Yes Dear. "Maybe I missed a couple." He climbs back up the stepladder and sticks his head into the cabinet. "Push it up again?"
We push up. It goes up. He looks up. Finally he speaks up.
"I don't see anything. Try pulling down on it."
We both put a hand inside the cabinet and tug. The cabinet slides down about a quarter of an inch and stops again.
"Hmmmm. . . . ," says Yes Dear.
"Waent us tu due dat agin?" asks Prance Helpful.
"Sure," answers my husband the engineer. "It must be just wedged in here between the doorframe and the other set of cabinets."
Ten minutes later, with Legolas hanging by all fours from the bottom of the cabinet pulling for all he's worth and hubby and I tugging mightily at the cabinet from each end, Yes Dear decides we should take a break while he goes to get the crowbar to pry it from the ceiling. I've actually worked up a sweat, which I normally avoid if possible. I look over at Legolas, who's still just as pretty as if he were preparing to go to Council meeting.
"Your hair's messed up," I tease.
"Noe it'z noet!" he exclaims, reaching up to check his hair with his hands as he stands up quickly, completely forgetting that he's still standing under the cabinet. His right shoulder impacts the bottom of the cabinet hard, and as it does, the cabinet comes crashing down the wall. Prance Helpful has just enough time to leap out of the way, landing with a thud on his rear on the floor.
"OOoooeeepppzzz!" he blurts, staring wide-eyed at the mess.
"Are you okay?" I gasp.
"Noe," he whines.
"Legolas, tell me where you're hurt, sweetie," I plead, flying to his side to assist.
"I goet saewduest en my haer noew!"
Gees.
While he frantically brushes the sawdust from his golden locks, I reach over and pull the neck of his t-shirt over so I can see his shoulder. There's not a mark on him. Not even a pink spot.
"Kwit dat!" he growls, swatting at my hand. "Hep me git dis duest owda my hare."
"Aw, leave it in there," says Yes Dear, returning with the crowbar. "It makes you look . . .real."
"Reel?" asks the Prance.
Yeah. Real.
"C'mon, buddy. Let's get the rest of these down so we can start cutting with the circular saw."
Elfboy's off the floor in a flash, his dusty mane forgotten.
It takes most of the afternoon to get the rest of the upper cabinets down. After a short break for supper, garnered by car from the closest McDonald's, Yes Dear excuses me to go back to my typing on the compy. I'm not stupid. I know his real reason is to get rid of me so he can pull out the power tools.
"You're getting out those loud tools again, aren't you, Daddy?" glares Lil' Pip. "That noise makes my stomach hurt."
Without waiting for an answer, she's off down the hallway, presumably to watch some Scooby Doo videos on her television in her room.
As I head for the computer room, I have no trouble spotting the twinkle in the Prance's eyes. He's so excited he's all but twitching.
I lean over and whisper in Yes Dear's ear. "Don't you dare let him get hurt. Make him wear the safety goggles."
"Quit worrying, okay?" he answers. "Nothing's going to happen."
Oh yeah, baby. (c al)
In less than five minutes the ear-splitting whir of the circular saw is roaring throughout the house, followed by hammering and the sound of the power drill. Then there's some grunting and some groaning, after which I hear some scraping and some sliding and then the sound of the back door being opened.
The process repeats itself over and over. They're actually laughing in the midst of it all too, sort of a male-bonding thing I guess. I just hope Yes Dear's not teaching him any dirty jokes to take back to Middle-earth.
Suddenly there's a loud yelp followed by the sound of something solid crashing into the floor. I leap from the computer chair and dash out to the other room, almost bowling Lil' Pip over as she does the same thing. From our collision spot in the hallway I can see Legolas digging in the freezer and Yes Dear running cold water over his hand in the bathroom sink.
"What happened?" I ask.
"I pinched my finger," says Yes Dear.
"Oh. Is that all?"
"Luuk at heez leedle feengur, al! It'z all swoellin uep alreedy!" Legolas hands over the ice pack he's found in the freezer.
Sure enough, hubby's little finger is swelling like mad, just the last part where the fingernail is. It already looks like a very large red grape, you know those kind that have the seeds in them.
"That's nasty, Dad," says Lil' Pip.
"How'd you do that?" I ask.
"Went to pull a nail from the wall, and the vise grip slipped and I bashed my finger into the side of the cabinet."
"Woew. Dat'z ueglee," says the pretty Prance.
I fix it up with a bit of Vet-Wrap adhesive pressure dressing that we keep for boo-boo's on our pets. Yes Dear returns to his dismantling not too worse for the wear, sporting a large bright purple bandage on the end of his little finger.
"I like ur baendayd," I hear Legolas say. "Deedn't she hav eni grean wonz?"
"Nope. No green. All she had left was pink," says my injured better-half. "You better be careful. You wouldn't want to get a pink one, would you?"
"Gag, pink," says Lil' Pip, pretending to stick her finger down her throat. "Yuck."
Legolas ponders this a moment before shaking his head no.
Lil' Pip heads back to her room to finish her movie, and I head back to the compy to work on my beta reading. Yes Dear pulls Legolas aside as I walk by.
"You've got your work cut out for you, buddy. I'm really gonna need you now."
I look back over my shoulder to see the bright gleam of shining teeth from a smile that must be three yards wide. Elfboy's in seventh heaven.
Soon the circular saw is roaring away again. I'm feeling more confident now, knowing that if Yes Dear's not able to saw then at least he'll have to supervise more closely since there's not much else he can do. That's about the time I hear it.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEYYYYYYYYY!!!!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lub Ledders frum Legolas
Max Jive: Az u kin sea, dat power saew iz skaerrie! I hav meesd u! Welkum bak! *huegz an keesiz u bak*
anna: Kungratshulashunz oen bying da Chreestmus praesuntz ursef! I lub tu goe tu da maell whin it'z kroewdid an set oen da baench seetz an wach da peepul. Dere stile of faeshuen amaeziz me. *bloewz u a kees*
daw the minstrel: I theenk da laydee at Valinor neadz a vakashun. She seamz a bit peenchd. *rattlz baeg of kownturtoep cheepz* Dey due sownd perty, doen't dey? *seandz a hueg tu u*
Landos Star: Sea, she sed I'm kuet. . . . You said that last time, now concentrate. Ar u fealin bedder?I doen't like tu here ur seeck. Da neuw keechin shuld bea redy bie Chreestmus. *huegz u agin kaerfuelly soe it duzn't huert*
Writer from Rivendell: al sez I kin't coem tu laebz uentill I feenish en da keechin. Mebbe I culd coem on da seexteenth? Iz dat okae? Elves doen't git seeck soe I weel keez u eniwae *smuuch*
Newmoon: *skweazez u* Buet havn't u sean da spaerkuleey shieny poetz an paenz, an da huendrid deefrint kiendz of shoewr kuertinz, an u kin eben git a wier thaeng tu haeng ur bandanaz oen fur da keechin! That's B.A.N.A.N.A.S., Prance. Bananas. Kin we git won? Honey, the bananas don't make it from the store to the house before you eat them now. What do we need one for? *sieghz*
Katani Petitedra: Lieneer ekwashunz ar deze leedle wurmz dat sneek owt of ur maf buuk an kraewl entu ur eerz eif u fael aseleep duereeng klass. Bea kaerful. *patz u oen da haed*
Tricia: Some seem to know who Legolas is, but in this town most aren't too concerned with his being a foreigner as long as he's just passing through, if you know what I mean. Hae, Tricia! I weel giv won of ur mueffinz tu Connie an sea if dat hepz. Deed u git my "faek me" pikshure yaet? I haed tu taek al'z chokolit coevurd chaerriez uentell she maled dem. *snuegglz u*
Arienna DyBane: Wekkum bak! I meesd u! Hoew iz skool goeng? al sez ur kwestshun iz a guud won. Due u miend if she ansurz it en da neaxt awthur'z noetz? *gievz u an elf kuukie*
Holly :o ) : *blueshiz* A Wael of Legolas? *geeglz* Oeh, deer! Dat sowndz soert of skaerie. Buet whie deed u steek a tyle oen da bak of da doar tu? *cueddlz u*
Nilmandra: I mite noet bea maerried tu al, buet I doen't git tu due whuteber I waent. Doen't wurry abot al an Yaes Deer, dey ar MFEO, remimbur? *gievz u a grate beeg kees*
JastaElf: *sings Jeopardy theme song with you while I wait for the Prance to recover* Yuck. Mold. Nasty stuff indeed. *helps the Prance up from the floor* Here you go. . . .Hae, Jasta! Kungratshulashunz oen ur Nonamowra theeng, kwest, meeshun. . . awaerd thaeng. Sae hae tu Ada fur me, okae? Doze hoet tueb paerteez reely ware a guey owt. I theenk dat da laydee at Valinor jest iz haevin a baed dae like Tricia sed. *skeepz da paert abot da peenuet budder an leatz Jasta taek caer of dat won all bie hersef* Hear'z a hueg an a kees fur u, Jasta. Giev Ada a skweeze fur me.
Space-Case 7029: I spend most of my time nowadays getting ganged up on by a smelly man and an elf. It's good to know you're thinking of me. Hae, Audra! Wate teel u sea da koewntur toep! I em soe prowd! If u waent tu fiend owt hoew I lernd tu skee oen da shield, u shuld tipe en daw the minstrel'z naem en da fiend boex uep dere *poyntz tu da toep of da paege* an reed her stoerrie, "Watch This!" U weel lub it! *snuegglz u*
The Two Princesses: I em noet alloewd tu plae wid da saew. Oenly seerius wurk, noe plaeing. Poewur griendur? Hummm. . .Dat sownds eenturaesteeng. . . . Eberythaeng iz payd fur alraedee. We haed tu uze da Deezneewurld muney, buet dis kunstrukshun wurk iz jest az muech fuen, I theenk. I puet won of doze keesiz oen my toew whur I droeppd da haemmur oen it laest tiem, buet I theenk I mite nead sum moer if u hav sum tu spaer, az u kin sea. Hear'z sum fur u tuu! *xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox*
Lady Peredhel: Bea shur u giev it bak whin u ar dun den! Da PC, I meen. I sneek entu maerrige klaess all da tiem an noebuddie seamz tu miend, I theenk u mite culd coem tu. I em waeteeng tu here all abot da daet wid da frashlee-kleend hueman. *bloewz keesiz fur u tu keap*
Michelle6: I haed a guud Thaenksgeeveeng. We weant tu Ryan'z Staekhowse an aet wae tuu muech fuud! We culd eet eben moer beacawze we deedn't hav tu kleen it uep! *Beeg huegz u*
MagicalRachel: I doen't plae wid da poewr tuulz. Oenlee seriius wurk. Yaes Deer sez dey ar noet toeyz. Thaenk u fur da envitashun tu coem tu Eenglaend an stae wid u. al sez thaenk u tuu. I saevd dis jest fur u *KEES*
PuterPatty: GGGAAAAAAEEEEEHHHH!!!! *cuvurz uep da moest teekleesh spoet wid bof haendz, groewlz at u* Giv me dat faethur. *graebz it frum u* Hae, it'z noet DAT kiend of maerrige klaess. We ar a vary fuen an seely gruup. Dey wuld hav tu bea, leatteng al breeng tuu mailz tu klaess wid her. Whut du u meen, elves and poewr saewz wearn't MFEO? Sea hoew I haenduld dat kraenkee Connie? She jest haed a baed dae an neadid tu liten uep. Da gesseeng gaem iz guud fur dat. al sez she wuld juemp oen gitting sumwon tu due da Traedeeng Plaesiz thang wid her tu due da keetchin. Oeh, goesh! Luuk ober dere! Iz dat da guey whoe theenkz he iz me? He'z NEKKID!! *wates teel u luuk an den teekulz u wid da faethur en UR moest teeklesh plase!* Heahea! Soe gullabull. . . .
VladimirsAngel: I proemiss tu bea vary kaerful frum noew oen wid da poewur saew. *wheespurz en ur eer* I kaen't tael enibuddie abot da peenuet bueddur. Haldir thraetund tu uze it oen me if I deed. *seandz u a kees an a hueg*
Angaloth: I LUB POEWUR TUULZ. I em goeng tu git a t-shurt dat sez dat an ware it uendur my toonik whin I goe bak tu Meedl-erth. I kin git ur lub ledderz jest as ezy frum da e-male, soe jest keap sinding dem dat wae if da siete woent wurk fur u. **kueddlz u*
leail: Coem an plae wid my tylez, baybee. I kin shoew u thaengz. . . . *leekz leepz beafour snoegging u*
Cara7: A snoe elf! I lub snoe elfz! Dat wuld bea grate. I steel neber deed lern tu ried a biek. I gess I culd uze sum leassunz oen dat tu. U neber deed tael me ur faevurit culur, nin mellon. Whut iz it? *seandz u a hueg*
Andy8: Sea?? Neuw koewnturtoepz kin bea a loet of fuen! U shuld trie it baerfuut wid da deesh soep tuu, noew DAT'Z sumptin tu sae, "Watch Dis!" fur. Tael ur mum u waent tu reed daw the minstrel'z stoerrie abot me lerneeng tu skaet oen a sheeld. Den u kin sae, "Wach Dis!" tuu! *hie fievz u wid my soepy haendz*
kimmaree: *seandz u huegs an keesiz* U kin alwaez tipe al'z e-male if da siet iz noet wurkin. I chek doze tu. We git a loet moer dat wae, an we hav gievin uep on reechin a thowsend reeveewz eniwae. Da e-male adraess iz oen al'z bio paege whur "faek me" iz. I woen't bea hear fur Chreestmus dis tiem, buet I weel bea theenkin of all of u. *seandz u anuthur hueg an kees*
Grammar Laedee: Oeh! Yaeh, dat Leedle Peep iz won tu wach owt fur. She'z jest like her mum. She duz akt like my seestur Laerlend bak en Mirkwood. I weel taek ur advize an neber leat her noe I em pertekteeng her. Dat sowndz like a guud ideea. *Huegz u bak an seandz a beeg kees*
Deb: I keap taelling eberybuddie dat eberythaeng weel bea alrite. I sertinlee hoep I'm rite. I kin danse tu all da Beedlez, an Beely Idoel, an Stickz, an Jurney, an of corse, Jon Deanvur. I reely rok doeng "Thaenk Gawd I'em a Kuntree Boey". It'z a guud theeng u rote whin u deed, I wuz jest abot tu puesh poest! **seandz u sum sweat elbin lub, baybee!*
Raider-K: Oeh yaeh, baybee! (c Legolas) I em sumpthaeng wid poewur tuulz. *wheepz da skreuwdrievurs arond like leedle wite nifz* Sea? Uhm, Prance? Yaes? Those screwdrivers aren't power tools. They're just Phillips heads. *luukz at da skreuwdrievurz* Oeh, yaeh. . . . *Geeglz an bloewz u a kees*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Next post this weekend. Better hurry, I'm typing as fast as I can and I hope you'll do the same. Don't want you to miss out on the free elf lovin' while it lasts. Less than two weeks left, and counting. . . . but I don't want to talk about it.