Altered or Taylored

You've met them before. They're everywhere. Every church has one, every grocery clerk deals with one, every garbage man cringes at one. (Wouldn't you wonder what is in their trash?) I'm talking about that family...you know, the one that makes you wonder if the lights are on and nobody's home...the one that's a fry short of a happy meal. Where do they come from? More importantly, where are they going?

As rare as you would like to presume; disoriented, demented, and disturbed people are all around you.

Open their front door and there is a seven foot, hand-carved statue of Friar Tuck to greet you with dark, beady eyes. Glance down their hallway and eccentricity flows from dozens of self-portraits that line the walls. And now I shutter at the cliche "Jesus is watching you" as I envision a shadow mold of the Christ propped soundly above the Victorian adorned fireplace.

I just happen to have the opportunity to housesit for such a family through June and part of July. Number one encouragement: they won't be there. Number two encouragement: hopefully the psychotic ex won't be there. Number three encouragement: the dog can't talk.

So I ask each of you now to embrace your normalcy. Proudly proclaim that as abnormal as you may often feel...you are as sensible as they come! (And if you aren't, then this blog is for you too.)