One Ring-y Ding-y

I swear I'm going to stop answering my phone. Many of you may recall some of the memorable text messages I've received recently. There's the infamous, "Can I vacuum glass?" . There's also, "What would you say if I said I got a tattoo?" And I'm still reeling from the call I received from my middle-est daughter (which was related to the rabid skunk attacking my elderly neighbor incident), "Mom, there's something upstairs that smells really, really bad."

And then yesterday came this call from our oldest: "Mom, can I borrow a couple of shovels?"

What on earth does a college kid need with a couple of shovels?! I've got nothing against shovels or people who use them, but this is college which is usually a place for books and pencils and computers and football. But shovels? Our son is a business major, mind you. A business major. What kind of business is he up to with a shovel? Is he looking for buried treasure--in a college town!? He's a good kid, and responsible, and level-headed, and smart, and never causes a bit of trouble; but my mind was racing from the randomness of the request and I couldn't help what blurted out of my mouth, "Maybe. . .um. . . this doesn't involve a dead body or anything, does it?"
Could it be that I've watched one too many CSI episodes?

Turns out my boy is helping some other college kids plant flowers for the Boys and Girls Club in our area. Whew. I knew it all along. :-)