Jan 19, 2012

Spy House

1/19/2012 — cori

One of my children, who shall be kept anonymous to hide his identity, has a 'thing' for anything spy related.  Always has.  He even has books on how to be a spy.  A series of books actually. He has read them 5 times over.  He takes this business with the utmost of seriousness. In a moment of weakness, he let me in on a secret.  He can actually disguise himself in under a minute.  All he has to do, he reveals, is to just take off his glasses and mess up his hair and put his shirt on backwards and bam! no-one would recognize him.  I will leave my comments to myself on this one so as not to burst any spy bubbles.

This whole spy business is the natural progression of growing up a super hero.  He's had an alter ego ever since he could talk.  It comes as no surprise that we would replace the childish superhero with the more mature spy.  I especially like all the gear that comes with being a spy.  This particular child goes nowhere without his trusty dusty whistle/compass/magnifier/flashlight necklace combo zipped securely in the inner pocket of his winter coat.  There's that and his phone that has a built in GPS that we won't let him use because then we'd have to activate a data plan and that's just not happening so that we can be more spy-like.  Spys have budgets you know.

But the best are the latest in technological advancements.  This son has his own security system taped all over his bedroom door.  You must crack the system before entry into said bedroom is allowed.  First you must pass the "eyeris scanner" (his spelling, not mine), then the voice recognition device, then the palm print match, type in a 497 digit code on the keypad, subjet yourself to the brain-scan device and then lastly have your "coolness meter" read.  Once you successfully make it past all these pieces of paper with serious drawings indicating all this real technology, then you may proceed into his room.  If you are a guest visiting us, I apologize ahead of time.  It seems that this same room is also the guest room.  You might want to start working on your "coolness factor" so that the "coolness meter" will grant you access.  Or you might be sleeping on our couch.  'If' you make it in, you can be assured of the highest quality of security while in your room.  No one has yet to break in and steal the 1999 clamshell laptop sitting in open view on his desk.  So, we're sitting pretty tight here.

The funniest part of all of this though are the random pieces of paper I have been finding taped in the oddest places around the house.  One day as I was reading on my bed, out of the corner of my eye, I happened to see a small square piece of paper with a circle hastily colored in pencil sticking out behind my mirror.  I went over to investigate.  That is exactly what I found.  Since I knew the only person who would color anything in pencil might be, I called this person into my room and interrogated him.  For all his spy prowess, he couldn't wipe that silly little grin off his face.  He finally broke down under my withering glare (obviously I'm joking) and confessed to the whole thing.  "I can't believe you found it.  It's my spy cam so I can keep an eye and ear on everyone in the house and know what's going on at all times."  Seriously?!  I grew up with this as a real threat and now I'm living with this all over again as a pseudo one?  Life definitely repeats itself.  Then Chloe comes into my room after the suspect fled and passed on some key information, "Mom.  Did you only find one?"

"What?!  There's more of these?  Where?"

"Oh yes.  Everywhere.  But I didn't tell you."

Try as I might, I could not find anymore of these 'bugs' around the house.  But every now and then  I end up coming across one months later.  Each time it makes me laugh out loud.  I see touches of my adorable little spy all over my house and it makes my heart soar.  I have already found one behind my computer and just today found one behind some picture frames in the kitchen while I was cleaning.

I just love paper with messy pencil circles on them.  It reminds me that I'm loved.  It's my little spy's love note to me.  Without even knowing it, he just made my day.

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