No, The Hess Report
is not dead. As I've said before, there are certain things I won't write about for all the world to see, and if that's all my life consists of during a given time period, then there won't be any writing. This is one of those times.
We are in the process of buying a house and selling ours. As much as I'd like to gripe and whine about the whole thing, it makes me the slightest bit nervous posting about matters in which lawyers are involved, so I won't. Pushing these transactions has eaten an enormous amount of our time, leaving little left for the kind of zany wittiness you've come to enjoy reading about.
Also, the creative section of my brain that's responsible for organizing all the whohah that is our lives into a series of 200-800 word essays is currently engaged in something else. I'm sworn to secrecy about it for now, but it's very exciting (to me, at least), and I'll be able to come out with it at the end of March or beginning of April.
Until then, a tidbit...
Many kids have imaginary friends. When she was little, my sister had an imaginary friend named Pizza Hut (Lyndie -- Pizza Hut says Hi!). Kids who really have imaginary friends don't go around calling them their "imaginary friend." It's just their friend. Perhaps my kids are too self aware, but they've heard the stories of other kids' IFs and created ones their own. Of course, they referred to them as "imaginary friends," because they weren't real
IF's, but fake, if you understand what I'm saying. But Lucy couldn't leave it at that.
About two weeks ago, I came home to find her flying around the cul-de-sac on her tricycle. She was really moving.
"What are you doing?" I said. Lucy's panting.
"Chasing my imaginary enemy."
"Oh really? What's his name?"
"Tommy Hawk. He's really bad."
"Then you'd better catch him," I said, and off she went.
Later, I saw her wandering around the yard, looking distressed. I poked my head out the front door.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"Soft!" she yelled.
"I'm looking for my lost imaginary kitten, Soft."
"You really look upset. You're just acting?"
"Yeah. I'm fine," said Lucy.
"Oh. Did Tommy Hawk kidnap Soft?"
The look of doom from Lucy. "No, Dad. He's not that kind of enemy. He loves animals."
Which, I suppose I should have known.