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Monday, December 27, 2010


For my kids and me, the park is our most favorite place to go. One of the reasons is because other nouns frequent the parks as well. And where other nouns are, there are bound to be crazy things happening, and mysteries to solve. And by nouns, I mean people, places, or things. But not places, because places aren't at the park except parks. And...yeah. I'm confused, too.

Last week's episode was the Mystery of the Strange Lady Leaving Secret Notes Behind the Electrical Box (turned out to be Geocaching, NOT drugs--and yes, my friend Marielle opened the envelope one time when the lady wasn't there).

Today's episode: The Mystery of the Bloody Dog Footprints.

It was a sunny day, a day that seemed light and carefree. But the air teemed with a cold tinge that foreshadowed dark and brooding events, like bloody dog feet. During our regular strutting around the playground, we saw a dark red pool next to a thorny plant.

"Egads!" I said. "Don't step in the blood!"

"I stepped in the blood!" my son cried.

"It's okay, just wipe your feet off in the grass!" I cried.

"Okay!" He cried. Literally.

After the crying was over, we could not deny the strong curious sensation propelling us to follow the bloody footprints that leaped away from the initial crime scene. I took my children's hands for support and we tracked the prints into the local neighborhood, stopping here and there to look at inflatable Santas. (How cute!)

After awhile I noticed we were really far up the street. And THEN the footprints really went crazy--they turned up a driveway and went into someone's front door. And THEN I had to tell my children no, they cannot go onto the porch and track the prints inside. And THEN I hoped there were no bloody footprints inside, because man, that would be hard to get out of the carpet. And THEN I told the kids the dog was probably relaxing in his house, all bandaged up, watching his favorite show and eating a bowl of ice cream. Which they didn't buy.

The question is: Was it really the bloody dog's house? Was it really a dog? Perhaps it was a WEREWOLF? Or just a person with dog-shaped FEET??? And if it's not eating ice cream, then what IS it eating???

I will leave it up to you, faithful readers (or maybe there's just one of you), to solve the mystery with the best tool of all: your imagination.


  1. Ha! Your first paragraph made me laugh. I swear that last year I saw people footprints in my snowy backyard that turned into dog footprints. And I'm pretty sure it was a full moon.

    You are a very adventurous mother. I probably would have sanitized my son's shoes and walked back to the padded playground, whereupon I would release my four year-old from his leash and place a helmet on his head.