The Backyard Money Machine

Now, I know I've blogged along this line before... if not here, in the blogosphere, then a million times somewhere in my sub-conscious.

But friends, let me tell you. I live with Curious George. A living, breathing, little octo-monkey who burns calories and energy at a rate that could light up the great state of Texas. His appearance would shock you, as he is not small and furry; but rather, a smooth, sweet skinned little boy with mischievous blue eyes, plump little cheeks, and a winning little smile and laugh that can both endear and drive one batty. He never MEANS to get in trouble.... it's just that everything is just so DARN INTRIGUING. Forget toys- they hold little to no interest for him, usually. He's much more enamoured with the the little things in life. For instance- his day would not be complete if he did not stop every five steps on the way to Mason's bus stop, to look at a rock, or oooh- a flower, or even better, an empty soda bottle that litters the alley. PURELY AMAZING- and it turns our walk past six houses into a 10 minute ordeal. And the idea, of washing your hands in the sink- why, that's just amazing, too, and no hand-washing is complete without looking underneath the sink to see exactly where all that water disappears too.

Imagine my consternation today, as I had quite the dreaded explanation to present to Martin. While I was on the phone with the swim instructor- I heard Coen go into the backyard. That was not a big deal, as it's free reign, properly secure, and open territory to them. However, upon hanging up, and writing the swim dates on my calendar, I heard the door slam, and little feet padding across the tiled floor. He grabbed my hand, and was blabbering in nearly three-year-old gibberish something about the "wind blow" and other words I couldn't decipher. I could tell it was urgent, and so followed him through the kitchen, and to my surprise- to the garage. He pointed to the garage door opener, and told me to open the door. I'm thinking, "Okay, ball went over the fence"..... I follow him into the empty lot next door, still trying to figure out what he's saying. It finally clicks when I see the yellow paper "kicket" (ticket) lying in the dirt. Said "kicket" is a piece of yellow Monopoly money. Dread feels my stomach, and I run, with Coen following back into the house. You see, it's not just any piece of yellow Monopoly money. It is a piece of Monopoly money from a limited edition, collectors STAR WARS Monopoly game. That belongs to Martin. And is very old.

The boys have been admiring it all week, and Martin has tolerated them doing so, allowing them to play at the kitchen table with the tiny ships, tokens, and game pieces. They have been in awe; and now, I know- that given "George's" great idea to give the game a try outside, in the 40 mph Texas wind- my neighbors will be in awe as well.

As I said, I tore around the corner, screaming to Mason to hurry, and help me. It looked like a money machine in the backyard, as we scrambled to gather the precious money, and even more precious, the game cards- Tatooine, Naboo, Curasant......AGGGGHHHHH. I almost threw up thinking about how in the world I would tell Martin.

After checking around the fence, the empty lots, and stepping in a huge pile of mud, I came back inside, and lined up the cards, to see what was missing. So far, I think there is only one card missing. Maybe that one fell out of the box during the move. Yeah, that's it.

Thank goodness, he took the news pretty well. Much better than I would've. Wonder how the man in the yellow hat would handle this one?


***UPDATE: Martin went out to mow the lawn last weekend, and moved the stack of lawn chairs on the back porch. Later he would ask me what I thought he found underneath.... (I'm imagining a rattlesnake, but NO) the TWO missing game cards, and the instructions to the game- weathered and water logged, but legible. Phew.