Monday nights, my friend Not Jenn and I have a standing date. Sure, it’s because her kid has a thing near my house and she has time to kill, but that’s just how us parental units roll these days.
So Monday, I got ready to leave. My eldest looked at me, looked at Maura happily watching tv, and asked “You couldn’t possibly leave via the side gate?”
Me, for one second – Son, I will leave this house however I dang well please.
Also me – realizing that Maura has a tendency to reenact the platform scene from “Sophie’s Choice” as she begs me not to go – “You have to go move the brick from in front of the gate.”
Yeah, we have high-tech security to ensure Maura’s safety – or in this case, a cement block on the outside of the gate so she can’t escape the yard. (Yes, there’s also a latch. But some OT taught her how to manipulate latches.)
I make my escape unbeknownst to Maura, and go to the other side of my car to hide from here while I wait for Not Jenn to come get me. Which is a bit silly as my car is a Fiat 500 and I’m actually taller than it. But not by much, so it’ll be fine.
As I play on my phone, I suddenly hear terrified squeaking. I look up and across the street from me, a scene from Wild Kingdom has decided to play out. There is a tiny baby bunny, a mama bunny, and a crow. The crow is trying to get the baby bunny. The mama bunny hops at the crow. The baby bunny then hides under mama. The crow still tries to get the baby.
So I step into the street (we’re on a side street, it’s not that wide) and do the whole “Not today Crow!” thing while yelling shoo and waving my purse.
The crow leaves.
And I realized I’ve just been loud.
I hear Maura’s voice through the open window. “Mom? Mooom? Where Mom?”
So I ducked behind the car.
Meanwhile, I’m watching the bunnies. Mama bunny hops back up onto the curb. The baby bunny – who’s like the size of a large hamster – tries to get up the curb. But the curb is huge compared to him.
Now I’m trying to figure out what to do. If I go over and scoop the baby bunny up, will mama bunny run off? Will mama bunny launch herself onto my face? I don’t really know. So I watch and wait. Baby bunny tries the curb again, and manages to stretch its tiny little self up enough to reach the top and then scoots its little bunny butt up over the curb and reunites with mama bunny.
But then they just stay there.
I’m like “Woman, take your baby home for crying out loud!” But she won’t. Maybe because I’m there. Then baby bunny crawls under her for a while, and I’m like “Awww…baby’s still nursing.” And then mama bunny hops to the side – knocking her baby right back off the damn curb and onto the street again.
And now I’m crouched on the side of my car cursing at this failure of a mama rabbit under my breath. “Get on the street and take care of your baby!” I hiss.
Because obviously, I don’t care what this might look like to the neighbors.
You can picture it –
Neighbor – “Honey! That woman across the street is crouched behind a car muttering to herself. Is that normal?”
Neighbor’s Wife – “Does she have kids?”
Neighbor – “Yes.”
Neighbor – “Then yes, it’s normal. She’s probably just hiding from her own children.”
Meanwhile, mama bunny finally chose to go see what her own offspring was up to, and hopped down onto the street, following the bunny until it wiggled its tiny bunny butt back up onto the curb, and then they disappeared finally into shrubbery. Hopefully to where the mama bunny had some sort of bunny playpen to keep her offspring in.
And then my friend finally appeared, and I slinked into her car, disturbing neither bunnies, nor catching Maura’s attention.
And that, my friends, is how I leave the house.