I have no words for the ride home today. I picked my two older boys up from school today and they were chipper and excited it was Friday. Evan sat down in his booster and promptly brought out his lunch box.

“I saved my ice cream because I didn’t have time to eat it.”

“You what?”

Surely I heard him wrong because the three-year-old tank in the back seat is in a loud phase.

“I saved my ice cream. I can’t wait to eat it.”

“Honey, it isn’t going to be any….” I didn’t have to finish the sentence. He had already opened his lunchbox and saw the remnants of his ice cream. How could something that brought so much joy bring so many tears?

ice cream carnage

I did what any mother worth her salt would do. I started driving to the nearest gas station so I could buy him a new ice cream. He finally stopped crying when we got to the store and of course they were out of the one treat Evan wanted. We finally decided on a slushy and all was right with the world.
We went home a more scenic way. A way that includes cows, horses, chickens, deer and peacocks.

Yes. Peacocks.

There is a farm on the back roads that has peacocks. It’s fun and we are used to stopping for them, or just watching them walk around. Today was a treat, though. Today we saw a peacock just hanging out on the roof of the barn.

just another day on the roof….

After we had to move on from that stop (due to the pesky other drivers on the road) we went to the end of the block and saw a chicken with nine little chicks, just hanging out in the street. Not moving for anything in the world. It was seriously like a trip to the zoo. So again we stopped and took pictures, city folk that we are.

Finally all the chicks had meandered safely to  the side of the road when a SUV came barreling down the street so I started waving my arms like a crazy person and yelling “Baby Chicks Ahead!!!!”. They couldn’t hear me, the windows were up. At least I was able to embarrass Michael.

when Michael saw all the chicks he asked how many times that chicken had sex. I ignored it.

So we drove to the next road (all of these locations are within a mile of each other) and I kid you not, there were ten vultures eating a dead deer. Those things are so nasty. It was like our train ride through the zoo suddenly turned macabre. I went from saying “Hey guys! Look how cute!” to “Oh my gosh that’s disgusting! DON’T LOOK!!!” in one breath. I didn’t take a photo of that attraction.

We finally made it home and I checked the mail. I was elated to find a parcel key in my box. If anyone knows me well, they know that every day I check my doorstep with the hopes of having a package of presents delivered to my front door. It never happens, but someday it might. I could hardly wait to open the parcel box and when I did, I almost cried.

Our mailperson seems to have trouble getting the mail in the right place. It’s been a problem in our subdivision for a while. Some friends of ours both have the last name Hernandez, and they get each other’s mail. Because apparently they are the only Hernandez families in Texas. That being said, the package was not for me. It was for another Eckert that lived in a completely other subdivision. BUT, her first name did start with an E (like Eric) and her street’s name did start with the same letter as my street’s name.  Tricky business, that reading the address and name and matching them up.

I was a little bitter about not getting a prize. I might still be.

Anyway, the only reason this was a blog is that it was entirely too long to post as a Facebook status.  Maybe someday I will post something meaningful, but until then, just send me presents in the mail.

Of course, they will be delivered to the other Eckert in Temple, TX.

The above scene from The Incredibles happens in my house more often than I can even tell you. Except I don’t have a daughter.

And only one of us has a super power, and it is not me.

Let me set the scene: Eric is sitting on the couch with Evan and Caleb (2 and 3, respectively). I am on the loveseat. Evan and Caleb are arguing and screaming at each other, hitting and kicking and not stopping, regardless of my threats.

Me: If you two don’t stop you’re getting a spankin’! (spankin’ because I live in Texas)

2&3: Still with the screaming at each other

Eric: *crickets*

Someone pinches someone else……

Me: I’m serious! KNOCK IT OFF!!! Do you need a nap? Be KIND, people!!!

2&3: *more noise, ugliness and louder screaming*

Eric: *happy face in happy land. crickets still*

Me: ERIC! Do you NOT HEAR THEM!?!? DO SOMETHING!!!

Eric: What, babe?

Me: Seriously? You don’t have any idea what’s going on? Have you not heard them about to kill each other RIGHT NEXT TO YOU?

Eric, now alerted to the ongoing war, makes the insanity stop with one sentence:

Then he says, “Babe, I really didn’t hear it. It’s like a superpower.”

There it was.

It’s a superpower.

Wow. In that moment it all became clear.

Like the time we were having company and I said, in the midst of my cleaning frenzy, “All I need you to do is put these towels away.” He nodded.

Ten minutes later, the towels were still on the sink and my sweet man was completely dumbfounded by my freak out.

He replied with those words I have come to know so well: “I didn’t hear you. I don’t think you told me that, hon.”

I used to think he was forgetful.

Eckert brain, I would call it.

Now I know the truth. He’s superhuman.

Instead of being able to hear like an elephant, he can’t hear anything at all.

I might be wired exactly the opposite. I can hear every sound the kids make. I have the ability to sort out and ignore the normal, non-confrontational sounds with a great ability. It doesn’t mean I don’t hear it; it’s just more of a drone in the background. The second it goes south I hear it full blast, which is apparently the moment that Eric’s gift kicks in.

I wonder what the ratio is of men to women who have this phenomenon. I mean, it really is amazing to me, and I believe it warrants some research. Then I wonder if a couple that both have the super power were to procreate, would their children automatically have the same ability?

Would they even survive childhood since their parents were incapable of hearing all the negativity that childhood and siblings bring? I need to get some funding for this.

So there it is.

I have my own version of Mr. Incredible here at my home. Mine is way hotter, though.