Background, injuries and lies

I am an accident waiting to happen! Once when I was about 12 years old I was playing softball at Lion's Park (FAKE). That is the elementary school I went to. The school was incredibly beautiful by the way. Like in the movies. Two stories, K-8, with a gymnasium that doubled as a cafeteria when the tables with their attached benches got folded up into the walls.
I started there in fifth grade after transferring from another school district. My parents used the address of my dad's side business, a location near Oakton Bowl in Skokie, Il. My dad would take the school aged kids with him and leave the younger ones at home with my mom. At any point that could have been up to 6 of the seven of us. It just made their lives easier I guess; they didn't want to deal with the busses and car pooling in the city. By the city I mean Chicago. I grew up in the Lion's Park area. It was all tree lined streets with very few multi-unit dwellings on my side of California. Crossing California. An excellent book by Adam Langer. It's about growing up in the late 70's set in my very neighborhood where the author apparently grew up. Anyone from this area would sure get a kick out of reading it! Policemen, Firemen, politicians, teachers, you get the point, resided there since they had to live within city limits. By all accounts it ways middle and upper-middle class. My mom worked outside the home throughout my childhood to bring in extra cash since there were six children in the family, while my dad ran a full time machine shop, was a full time police officer in the city of Chicago and also had another secret and illegal side business up in the second story of our garage. (More on that in the future!)
My emergency room visit was there in Chicago. I was, as I started to say before I got side tracked, playing softball after school with other kids, no adults around, the good old fashioned way before play-dates and expensive after school activities. I jammed my finger and felt it was bad enough to seek medical attention so cell phone in hand...ok of course I am kidding...so with no way of phoning anyone I figured it was closer to walk to the neighborhood hospital then it was to go home. When I got there I just asked them to call the local police station and get my dad to come right over and give permission to treat me. It worked exactly as I thought and soon enough I was given a cool, shiny splint, the envoy of all my friends for some strange reason, and back to the school yard I went. I loved being dropped off in the police car. I felt totally cool. Much better then getting dropped off in the hearse. We had one of those because we are talking about the B.MV. point in american history. Post station wagon but BEFORE MINI-VAN days. A station wagon wouldn't actually fit all eight of us but a converted hearse did. Seriously freaking weird!
It was still light out and I jumped back in the game and before you knew it, I think because I was pampering my injured hand, I felt a searing pain and yep, you guessed it. I walked back to the same ER, they called my dad again and I had broken this finger while only spraining the initial one. Another shiny silver splint and another ride in the squad car though this time it was back home where now my family had all collected to eat dinner together.
For the record and future reference I have broken my back twice, neck once, both ankles, one arm but in two places, my "eye socket bone" or whatever you call it and multiple fingers and toes. I have had rotator cuff surgery twice on my dominant right shoulder as well as biceps and labarum repair on the same. I have had my gall bladder removed, lasik eye repair, breast reduction and brachioplasty (look that one up on your own if you really want to know)! Countless stitches, burns and have given birth. Today I pulled a muscle in my calf that feels ten times worse then a charlie horse just walking in the dairy aisle of Jewel. I think it hurt worse then all the others!

For real

Her way

Mrs. Peerless always needs to be right. If she is wrong she will make a huge effort to explain why she was mistaken; she needs to justify everything. I do think a lot of what irritates me is how much we are alike except I am usually RIGHT while she just thinks she is! For example today at dinner I gave Fiona, (FAKE...remember) the 14-year-old girl, a good sturdy Cutco steak knife to cut her thick slice of spiral ham that was leftover from Easter this past Sunday. Now leftovers is a subject all to itself that I will certainly touch on and come back to time and time again. As for the ham, it needed to be cut, hence the knife. Mrs. asked in an agitated voice for Fiona to hand her the knife while Mrs. handed her an over used, bent tip, ground down handle from multiple trips down the disposal, crappy knife that hardly slices butter. I then asked in my disobedient tone, "Why can't she use that knife"? I thought the reply would have to do with her being so inept, as this teen most certainly is. Mrs. P: "That knife is for steaks." Me:"Are you serious?" "Yes. If you use it for other purposes it gets dull." Meanwhile I was the first person to remove the protective sleeve from the never used set of twelve knives. The housekeeper, Lupe, (...oh, yes, tons on her to come!) told me they had been in the drawer for at lease 5 years! I couldn't let it go. "Mrs. P, are you really telling me that steak knives are only to be used for cutting steak and no other meats or foods?" She replied rather condescendingly, "Yes, Matilda (my FAKE name...last reminder), I am." I was just in the mood. "Mrs. P, it is called a steak knife to identify it's size in comparison to others in a set. While it is the perfect length and has the ideal serrated edge for a steak it is not SOLELY intended to be used for steaks. True, some ordinary knives dull from misuse, but this is a Cutco knife. It can cut through a penny! If it breaks or dulls during ordinary use it is 100 % guaranteed. (Credit for that information goes to RK...real initials...for his fabulous Cutco demonstration, his first job, his freshman year of college.) You can certainly use them to cut a piece of ham." She simply said, "I'd rather you not". I said, "Fair enough". 

Later when washing dishes I used that very knife to scrape melted cheese off of a Pyrex dish. I also used it to spread mayo on a ham sandwich Fiona would have for lunch the following day along with an orange that I felt compelled to cut into slices. Finally that superior knife was used to cut the tiny plastic rings that held a new pair of kitchen scissors affixed to a piece of industrial strength cardboard. For a month those scissors laid right next to the other 11 sleeved and one newly un-sleeved steak knife. 

For Real

Today I begin!

If I am ever going to write THAT BOOK this is a good way to start. WRITING!!!!! I suppose you're wondering what you can expect. Let me state unwaveringly, I am totally truthful and if I am exaggerating I will tell you...at some point at least! I do tend to add a little "umph", as I like to call it, but I will always clue you in! Also let me assure you I am anonymous on here for a very legit reason. I have a contract that prohibits me from disclosing private and personal information about my employers. I will just refrain from exposing them. From this point forward anytime I write a name it will be FAKE unless I tell you otherwise.

I am a full time, live-in nanny for the Peerless family. On a daily basis there are things that happen that I wish someone else was around to witness. I have taken pictures and will continue to do so, but I need to look into the legalities of my posting them here. Meanwhile, the blog is called Really, It Happened for a reason!

I'm dozing off, and I mean literally as I type, so I am going to go to sleep! I had to get signed up and create the blog and such and quite frankly it seems like it's going to work just fine!