It was a dark and stormy night…

Just kidding it was an unseasonably warm November afternoon. I was nine months pregnant with Hank (one week away from his due date) and the kids were riding their bikes in the driveway and enjoying the sixty-ish degree weather. When our neighbor stopped by and asked if we wanted to join her on a short walk to the pond we agreed.

The kids brought their bikes and we hiked the one whole block over to the neighborhood pond and hopped on the little paved trail that circles the water. Emily (our neighbor) and I were talking, getting to know each other, having a grand old time when in the middle of a sentence I heard Emily gasp. I looked up in time to see Milo about twenty feet ahead of us, still on his bike, actually flying through the air like the ET kid.

That’s why this is a legitimate scary story and not just a mommy-scary story. I suspect paranormal, extraterrestrial, voodoo, or possibly leprechaun involvement. I mean. This can not be explained. Why didn’t he fall off his bike? Why didn’t the bike just fall over? How could he possibly have been going fast enough to completely clear the rocks? It doesn’t make sense!!!

Anyway, as I was pondering these things Milo’s miraculous flight ended with a big splash and me charging after him to the edge of the pond. At this point I’m hoping he’ll just stand up in the water and maybe whine a little when I insist he haul his bike out of there. But my hopes were squelched immediately as Milo’s head popped up out of the water and then went right back down again. (This is the part that’s mommy-scary)

That’s when I thought it might be a nice idea for me to go swimming too. Me and my super pregnant belly slid/jumped into the water after him and got there before Milo really started panicking. You guys, that water was up to my neck! Oh yeah, and freezing cold. Also DISGUSTING. Pretty sure it was 80% duck poop in there. But Milo was ok and I handed him out to Emily who was waiting at the edge to help us (thanks Emily!). Then I figured I might as well get the bike since there was no way anybody was getting back in that cesspool again for any reason. So I used my feet to pry it up out of the mud (please let it have been mud) at the bottom and handed that off to Emily too. Then I had to haul my giant self out of the water and we all walked home. Shivering like we’d had an alien encounter. WHICH WE MIGHT HAVE.

The end.

(Not pictured: Me nine months pregnant – the paper wasn’t big enough)