I’m a fan of retelling stories.  Sometimes I tell them over and over again like a broken record.  Most of the time my friends don’t hesitate to remind me they’ve already heard what I’m spouting out.  But, since this is my blog, I can tell my stories and cry if I want to.  Dad and ESM are touring the great state of Kansas this week and have jogged my memory of two stories worth sharing.

Last week they stayed at the same hotel, a Holiday Inn I believe, that we stayed at 15 or so years ago when we went to KS for a reunion.  I’m not sure how old Crystal and I were, but we were old enough to “man the fort” for an evening in our hotel room while the rents went down to the pool area for the reunion.  I’m guessing we were 7 and 9.  We ordered a pizza.  We watched a movie.  We most likely jumped on the beds.  We also decided to played it safe.  Not only did we lock the door but we also utilized the chain lock, the one you can only unlock from inside the room.  You just never know.

I’m sure after a few hours of all that fun, we were conked out on the bed.  About that time the rents came rolling back up to the room to retire for the evening.  They slid their key in the lock and opened the door.  Unfortunately, it only opened about 4 inches before the chain prevented it from opening any further.  “Oh great” they thought as they could see us passed out on the bed.

Now, its a common fact that I am a very sound sleeper.  Someone once stuck a strand of firecrackers through the mail slot on our front door at my Mom and Dan’s house on Bryker.  They then set them off.  They were apparently so loud that M&D jumped out of bed on the other side of the house, but somehow I, sleeping just a wall away from the firecrackers, remained unfazed.  The next morning they asked me if I had heard the fireworks and I had no idea what they were talking about. 

So, using their heads, my Dad and ESM decided to call out for Crystal, figuring there was no way I would be able to wake up to unlock the chain.  They shouted for her for probably 10-15 minutes, all the while I remember hearing them call out for her, but since it wasn’t my name being called, I didn’t think they needed me.  So, I stayed in bed, semi-asleep.  About to give up, they went down to the front desk to alert them of the situation.  They decided to send up a handyman with giant scissors to cut the chain.  This of course would probably have cost the rents $100 bucks or something ridiculous like that.  In one last ditch effort, they decided to call for me, figuring it would take an act of God for me to hear them.  All it took was a simple “Emily” and I jumped out of bed like it was no big thing and let them in.  This is probably one of my favorite stories ever.  The moral being: never underestimate Emily. 

The next story I have to share was way before my time.  Back in the mid 50’s, I’m guessing, Gamma and Pop decided to uproot the family from their home in Hiawatha, KS.  My Dad and Peg were of course very upset about this and threw major fits about having to leave.  To put icing on the cake, the family dog, Tip, wasn’t going to make the cut.  They had to leave him behind.  When asked where Tip was going, my grandparents told them he was going to live “out in the country”.  It was as if he was retiring from his career as family pet and going to buy a ranch and live a quiet and peaceful life out on the range.  He was going “out in the country”.  As simple as that.  Dad sent me some pics today of their KS tour, one of them being of the house where Tip got left behind.  That story always makes me laugh…

Also, who knew the fall foliage in Kansas was so beautiful?