mrs. cake

There's a calico cat who likes to roam our yard. We think maybe she belongs to our elderly neighbor, Mrs. Cake, so we started calling it "Mrs. Cake's Cat," but now it's just "Mrs. Cake" for short.

Well, this morning the girls saw Mrs. Cake in the backyard and she wasn't strolling, lounging or napping. She was stalking. The girls enjoyed watching her on the prowl, right up until the moment she sprung into the ivy that covers what seems to be a maze of tiny trails and tunnels. Ella and Lauren came running upstairs. "MOM!" Lauren yelled breathlessly, "Do cats eat chickmunks?" She froze awaiting my response.
"Probably."
"WHAT?" She was frantic.
"Maybe, Lauren. Why? What is this about?"
Ella explained, "We just saw Mrs. Cake jump into the place where we think the chipmunks live."
"Mom." Lauren was serious. "Do you think she ate a chickmunk?"
"I don't know, Lauren. Sometimes cats just like to chase things. Please try not to worry about it." She sighed and followed my instructions to get ready for school.

This afternoon I picked up the girls from Taylor on my way home from running errands. As Lauren and Ella climbed into the back seat I called to them, "How was your day, girls?"
"Lauren is worried," Ella explained. "She's still thinking about Mrs. Cake."
"What?" I looked at Lauren in my rear view. "Lauren, honey. Really?" She had puppy dog eyes and her mouth was pouty. I could barely hear her reply.
"Yes."
"Did you tell Olivia about it?" Ella wanted to know.
"No!" Lauren yelled, then added quietly, "It would make her devastated if she knew that cats eat chickmunks."
"Honey," I said, "I have no idea if Mrs. Cake really would eat a chipmunk, but one thing I do know, and we've been over this a few times now. . . . It's CHIPmunk, with a P, like chocolate CHIP. Remember?"
"Yeah," Ella said, "As in, CHIPmunks are like chocolate chips for cats!"

It was a strange thing to hear Ella's belly laugh at the exact same time as the "Ahhhhhhhhhh!" that came out of Lauren in her horror. But I have to admit, Ella wasn't the only one who found it funny. Bless Lauren's heart.

yeehaw

Lindsay

Begin forwarded message:

From: Kim Moore <kimmoore@gmail.com>
Date: November 17, 2012 9:41:33 AM EST
To: Lindsay Moore <moorelindsay@gmail.com>
Subject: Video for blog

missing

Bob the Elf is missing. He came to pick up the girls' letters to Santa yesterday, but he didn't come right back as usual. I suggested that the letters were probably really heavy and the trip took longer, that's all. He'll be here soon, for sure! (In completely unrelated news, I've been emptying and re-emptying Christmas storage tubs for two days.)

As I tucked in the girls, Lauren said, "I wonder if Bob will come tonight." She looked at me, "If you find him."
"If I find him?"
"I mean . . . if he finds us . . ." I held her in a steady gaze, until she said, "Ummm, bye bye!" I narrowed my eyes a little and hers got bigger. "Awkward silence?"

I wonder how she and the other girls will feel about the email I just received from bobtheelf.northpole@gmail.com:

Mom Moore, 

Hi. This is Bob the Elf. Sorry I'm late. I know the girls have probably been looking for me. I delivered their letters to the North Pole, drank some hot chocolate with maple syrup, then went right back out to fly to your house. But on the way I lost my GPS! I ended up in Anchorage instead of Arlington! But good news, I went through the doggy door of a house that looked nice and warm, and the family who lives there has an elf I know. His name is George, and he is so nice. He showed me how to make a gmail account so that I could send you a message, and he gave me a map to follow to your house. The trip will take longer, but please tell Ella, Lauren, Audrey and Kate that I'll be there soon! I think that instead of flying back and forth all the time I'll just stay at your house until Christmas. I hope that's okay! 

See you soon. Love, 

Bob