There have been a few mysteries rattling around my life, and within the past week, all of them have miraculously solved themselves!
Mr. Personality had told me weeks and weeks ago that at school, he had dressed up as an angel and someone had taken pictures of him. I assumed it had been for the Christmas pageant, but they only had little tinsel halos, not the wings and robe he had described. Putting aside my momentary suspicion of possibly odd Lutheran rituals, I dismissed his story as the imgaination of a child who eats entirely too much starch.
Then, on his last day of school, there was a present wrapped in paper addressed to us from Mr. P. Totally ignoring my insistence that all presents be opened on Christmas, I tore open the wrapping paper to find a photo of Mr. P dressed, of course, as an angel. He had a feathery halo, equally feathery wings, a candle, and white and gold robe. They had even gone so far as to stand him in front of a stained glass window with light streaming through it, thus illuminating him as if God himself pointed down from the heavens, saying, "Impostor!"
This one I know you all have been dying to know about. What the heck was with a Hazardous Materials team at my Dad's work? What was with poisonous, gaseous fumes invading his workplace and sickening a few employees?
Turns out it was a pile of checkbooks.
Yup, you heard me.
My father is an accoutant for a small financial institution, and apparently someone had dropped their entire box of checks in some water. They decided to send the checks back, wrapping the sodden mess in some plastic, so as not to get the packaging wet. Well, something interacted with something, between the paper and the ink and the plastic, creating noxious fumes. Annoying, but nothing deadly. That sure made for a dramatic story, though, didn't it?
Remind me never to order checks from them, ok?
Four days before aforementioned Christmas pageant, I went to pick up my son from school and discovered a huge set of abrasions on his face covering half his forehead and most of his nose. They were deep, and took a long time to heal. In fact, although the scabs have disappeared, pink scars remain for the time being.
Everyone tried and tried to get him to tell us what had happened. The kid was completely mum. I had thought the story of the play kitchenette falling on him was a little suspect, but I had nothing else to go on.
Then, out of the blue Mr. Personality tells us that when he was running (at his usual breakneck speed, I'm sure) to jump headfirst onto the swings, he uh, overshot his mark and landed on the ground. They have the recycled tire material underneath the swings, and while technically soft, if you fell on it hard enough, it would definitely scrape.
Remember the speedomter that went out on my car, rendering me a blubbering mass of panic? The car has been in the shop this entire time, and the mechanics just could not figure out exactly what was wrong. They told us there were four or five things that their diagnostic machines were telling them about, but they were confused.
Not heartening news, but we went with it.
Turns out, creatures of the rodent persusasion had been inside the engine, happily munching away on crucial wires.
I don't even want to tell you how freaked out I am that we apparently have, er, guests in the garage.
Merry Christmas to us- we've got rodents and a surprise $500 dollar car repair bill!
That last one I could have maybe done without solving.