This house is under a python watch...

which I think is better than a zombie watch or a plaque watch. Yes. Definitely better.

To tell our story backward, something that is becoming a tradition for this blog, Friday we RETURNED from our "get away" trip to the Gold Coast. (Kevin was actually there working. It was only Zupe and I who were getting away from the rat race of Hibiscus Circuit.) I had this excellent idea that while Kevin was busy Friday morning, I'd bop over to IKEA and pick up two items. I knew exactly what I wanted and where to find them. This was a very good thing.

I arrived about 11:30 giving me just over an hour to shop before I had to drive back south to retrieve Kevin. (I hadn't realized it would take an hour - which is longer than it takes to get to IKEA from our house! - for the trip. I'm pretty terrible at those "its on the way" estimations of just how close things are. Case in point - the Springfield Mall is not "just outside Troy". This estimation skill is also the reason that I once had only one square of a soda cracker to eat between Ashville and Durham NC. But, that's another story.) So, I unloaded the sleeping - now awake - Zupe-man and hurried inside.

Where he began crying.

Retire to parents' room. Change baby. Nurse baby. Load baby into stroller.

I now have 30 minutes.

Hit the sales floor.

Baby starts screaming.

Find another parents' room, prepare a bottle, and encourage speed slurping. Burp baby, load him up, and while he's not happy, he's a bit quieter.

Ten minutes left.

I really tried to buzz through the living room and child's room sections, but every person and his grandmother were there. And, grandmothers do not walk quickly. Nor do they make easily passable objects what with the way they are linked arm and arm across the walkway with random child/grandchild. Even the siren of Zupe in distress could not part those seas.

Still, I found the sofa cushions - but the style I had seen before - granted, it was years ago - was no longer sold. Nor could I find any teething rails in the child's section. (Maybe they never existed.)

****Now, if you are Kevin, and you probably are, you're asking me "When are you getting to the pythons? How much longer?" I give you a quiet, puzzled and slightly hurt look, become a bit jangled and confused and my story telling slows WAY down.*****

Zupe did settle down once back in the car. Me, I have a headache. We arrive back in Broadbeach with enough time to buy a hamburger in McDonald's drivethru and pick up Kevin.

Traffic.

Home around 3:30. Take pain medication. Supper at 5. Maybe eating will help my head. I call for Chinese but can't find my car keys and must borrow Kevin's. (He doesn't understand how I can misplace my keys and be rather unconcerned. I know they'll turn up. They're in the house amongst all the bags we've unpacked. Somewhere.)

I take Zupe into Kevin's room to watch "thirtysomething" and nurse him. Six-ish. Maybe six-thirty-ish. I now am feeling a bit nauseated and lights make me feel worse.

Kevin comes in and tells me that Zelda has eaten a diaper. Or, at least torn it to bits. I have no two brain cells to rub together so I tell him to call the Pet ER. (I try to call Rob to ask him to think...but his phone isn't talking to my phone. I don't know where my keys are anyway.)

Kevin replaces Zupe's oxygen tapes. (Well done!) and carries him out to the car. I take Zelda and the diaper bag. Oh, and the bucket in case I vomit in the car.

To the ER. They take Zelda to the back. Kevin and Zupe sit on the bench. I check out where the bathroom is then go outside to sit where it is cool and dark. And, where I could discretely vomit in a bush in a hurry.

I don't vomit. Zelda does. (She had a little chemical persuasion.)

They find only a little of the paper/plastic and not the fluffy absorbent (= obstructive) inside material. They offer to admit her with IV fluids but we decline.

Everybody and bucket back into the car. I keep my eyes closed and the window open.

We arrive back home to find the front doors standing open. Both doors. Wide open. From the backseat I can see my computer and my camera on my desk - so I'm pretty, pretty, pretty sure there's been no theft. Kevin goes in first. "Hello". Checks every room. Checks behind every door. No one in the house. Nothing missing.

It is pretty obvious that I simply "forgot" to close the doors on my way out of the house. It has been open for close to 90 minutes. Plenty of time for a big-ass PYTHON (there it is!) to slither into the house!!

Hence - a python watch.

Now, practically, I think it is highly unlikely that a python would have come inside. I don't think they'd be out traveling in the cool evening. I think they'd all be holed up and watching TV. Dingoes, on the other hand....