It's Official

I'm an idiot.

After my debacle on Tuesday, I should have just called it a week and assumed I would continue to make a fool of myself. Yesterday topped the dress mess, though.

I was cooking dinner (chicken soup from leftover crockpot chicken, since you asked) and I had to empty the garbage can. Sidenote: the garbage was full of food products, including scraps from the soup and the entire meal from the night before (tuna cakes. Not good. If you know how my MIL made tuna cakes can you call me RIGHT NOW because my husband is making me crazy requesting them). I opened the garage door, tossed the kitchen bag into the large cans with black bags in them - empty, I might add, since it was garbage day - and went about finishing dinner and feeding the kids (who, turns out, hate chicken noodle soup).

I then decided I would put the bag of clothes I was giving to a family at the school into the Space Shuttle because I knew I would see them at Mass this morning (the priest is being re-assigned and Youngest Boy made sure to ask me to be there. I think he was afraid he would be sad and wanted to make sure I would be able to comfort him.). I opened the garage door and started to walk around to the back of the van when I noticed a white kitchen bag on the floor of the garage with scratch marks on the side. This bag had not been there when we got home from school. The only bag I knew of in the garage was the one I had just thrown into the big, black can. Hmmmm. I freaked the frickety frack out. I mean, it had to be something REALLY FRICKIN' BIG to be able to get that bag out. I bolted into the house and called Mr. MOTH. He just loves when I call him in a panic. Especially when I'm using my super-loud, super-squeaky voice. I could NOT make him understand what had happened. He was not grasping that there was a HUGE MONSTROUS BEAST in the garage - maybe a bear! Or a panther! At LEAST a mountain lion! COME HOME RIGHT NOW OMG WE'RE GOING TO BE EATEN! ACK! HURRRRRYYYYY!

I finally decided I would just call my dad and have him tell me what it most likely was (my husband? He's not much of an outdoorsman. Or an animal lover. Or a country boy.). Problem? Dad's not home. Called his sister - Aunt E - because she can put any outdoorsman I know to shame. She said most likely a racoon would do something like that. I suggested maybe a cat? Possible. I was going with cat. Cute. Furry. Kitty cat. Phew! Much better than HUGE MONSTROUS BEAST!

Mr. MOTH called back and we formulated a plan. He would park in the driveway and open the door. I would come out through the front door and act as back-up (read: hide behind him ready to run for help at the first sign of trouble). He opened the door and saw the bag. We stared at it for awhile. I said, "Honey, something is IN that bag! I can see black at the top! I KNOW I put the celery on the top! AAACCCKKK!"

But the bag was oddly still considering it had a racoon in it. Or a kitty cat. Or a HUGE MONSTROUS BEAST! We inched closer. A bit closer. I said, "Are you SURE you didn't throw a white bag away this morning? Or maybe last night after you bagged every thing up? Was there anything else in a bag in the garage?" Mr. MOTH said, "Well, just that bag of Christmas wreaths and lights that you left out there. I tossed it up on top of the shelves and..."

The lightbulb came on. Yes, my friends, I was afraid of a bag of Christmas lights. I'm scarred for life. We'll never be able to decorate the outside of our house again. Maybe it would've been better if it had been a HUGE MONSTROUS BEAST! Because I love Christmas.