CSI: The Fry version

It seems that during the holidays around this house we have a never ending episode of CSI: Alberta happening around here. I've watched enough of that show to feel I am qualified to do this job and solve these crimes. I just need some kick ass theme music and a pair of shades like Horatio has.


The Most Recent Crime: Small Fry is put under the laundry hamper. When asked about this NO ONE in the house could account for this. Time to go all CSI-y on this crime.

Location. Isn't this what the TV always tells us to look for when accessing a crime? We had the hallway. Hmm. The culprit could have come from a number of doors. This is not helping. Was it..Groom? Large Fry? Fuzz?

Weapon: The weapon in this case was a plastic laundry hamper. I had seen Large Fry playing with it earlier but I try not to get tunnel vision while deciphering the clues before me.

1 Small Fry
1 Sippy Cup (How thoughtful of the perpetrator to think of his drinking needs)
1 white laundry hamper..with socks strewn about the hall.

Hmm. I think.. I *THINK* this was a crime of opportunity. There seems to be one witness and being of the 4 legged variety she isn't giving any statements. In fact she seems to be doing some weird hopp-y dance movement that makes me think she might be on mind altering substances. Not a reliable source.

That leaves me with 2 suspects: Groom and Small Fry. Their statements are as follows:

Groom: What the hell happened to the baby?!

Large Fry:
Me: How did he get under there?
Him: Who?
Me; Small Fry
Him: Who is Small Fry?
Me: Don't toy with me sonny-boy.
Him: Mother I don't know what you are talking about. Me and Fuzz are leaving.

AHA! Trying to leave the scene of the crime. I think I have my prime suspect but now he has an acomplice and a getaway car.

Here is what I think went down:

Small Fry goes unsuspecting into the hallway. He was heading down to probably pull the toliet paper off the roll when he was ambushed by Large Fry. Large Fry had seen the basket of socks in the hall and found prime opportunity. He casts Fuzz aside and dumps the socks, pulls the basekt over Small Fry and tosses the drink in after to throw us off track. Also likely he did it to buy himself enough time to run away until we noticed that Small Fry was NOT in the room.

Large Fry then comes into the room calmly to distract attention and lays quietly on the couch.

We have opportunity and motive. I think he's busted. But as he so calmly tells me right before I sat down to write this blog post "Mommy..you didn't see ME do anything. You can't tell I did anything!'

Damnit all to hell. I have no proof.

For one of the strongest women I know

I have always kept this blog light and funny but this entry deserves a bit of seriousness. I've been thinking a lot about her recently--as we talk nightly and the more I learn, the more I decide she really does deserve something. I cannot make her Queen of the World--so I will give her a shout out the best way I can.

This entry is for one of the strongest women I know. In the last few weeks she has been through hell. When most people would be in bed on strong, strong sleeping drugs-- she has kept going. In the last few weeks, her world has been turned over, under, upside down, and back again.

She's stronger than she thinks. She has moments of despair, moments of failure, and moments of anger. Who wouldn't? But she's a fighter. She's got spirit and creativity and more class than some people have in their pinky toe.

She's tough. Probably the toughest person I know personally. In the last few years she has seen many things, heard more than that, and lived what most wouldn't. All for love of those around her. She has done without, sarcrified, and continues to do so out of love and compassion.

And you guys are probably thinking "Why the hell?"

I'll tell you: She's really that amazing. Her heart is that compassionate, even against those that have wronged her. Those that are trying to blame her and break her down to ease their own hearts--she still seeks out compasion for them.

She still has her sense of humour--one of the best I have ever known. She makes me laugh even when I am having evil days. You know the kind? The kind where nothing.goes.right.ever? Those days? Only she can call me a hornswaggled gutter slut and get away with it. In a grammatically correct sentence no less.

She is one of the best mothers I've ever known--she has patience (even if she doesn't see it all the time), kindness, and the love for her children flows from her aura. Her children range from Medium-Small-Tiny. They are her soul and she gives them the best of herself. They do not realize, yet, what a fantastic mother they have. They will someday.

Even with the chaos around her, she still lets me bitch about things. To her. And she listens. And then she takes the time to make me laugh. I feel guilty for doing this. I've told her so (for we are always honest with each other). She tells me "Lady, deal. Bitch away. Do it or else." Okay maybe not those words--but it's close. And she lets me do this! And I bitch and bitch and at the end she always has something profound to say. I value and respect her opinions and advice more than she probably knows. Until now.

This is pure truth- She's gorgeous. No bias here. She's smart, funny, AND gorgeous. She has a radiant smile, beautiful eyes, and a tatoo that I'm not suppose to know about.


And for all this, I'm the lucky one. I'm lucky enough to know her and to call her my friend.