Happy Mistakes

or how after 10 years I just found out Jim is not a member at our credit union

This has been an interesting week - financially speaking, that is.  Last Friday Jim and I went to a swanky hotel and stayed in a suite.  When we checked in, we gave the girl behind the counter a credit card.  She charged the room, but then tried to charge an additional $200 to the card for possible "other charges".  At 15 bucks a pop, that means we could have rented 12 pornos, or drank/eaten most of the contents of the minibar (I assume).  Of course I'm not entirely certain about the minibar, because Jim never could figure out how to get it open.  And, no, we didn't rent 12 pornos...we didn't rent any.

But I digress, the card was declined for the additional $200.  I was embarrassed and surprised all at the same time.  I mean, I'm so good with money and our family's finances...what did I miss?!

When we came home on Saturday I diligently found out that during the first three weeks of my new job, I missed some transactions in my budget spreadsheet.  I called the number on the back of the credit card, hoping to get a $5000 increase.  After getting hung up on a few times (something was amiss with their system), I finally got a very nice gentleman who informed me I had to call another number.  What was that number?  My credit union.  Ugh.

I spoke to a very nice girl at the credit union.  She put my information through to get a credit line increase and told me I'd hear back by Monday.  On Monday afternoon I called there, and I was told that because I do not have an income (a REAL job that is), I was declined.  I had told the nice girl I didn't have a real job, but that my husband (who is on the card and on the member account at the credit union) has a good job. This new girl (girl #2) told me that my husband was only a signer on the card, but that she could put his information through to get the credit check to work.  Jim was happy to give his information over to her, and once again we were told in a couple of days we would hear.

Wednesday I phoned the credit union back and talked with girl #3.  She told me that both girl #1 and girl #2 neglected to tell me that we would have to apply for a completely separate loan (credit card).  I told her, fine.  I also told her that I was frustrated at the process, because Jim and I have been married for 10 years and he was added to everything back then.  She was really nice.

Yesterday I get a call from girl #3.  She says, "Well, Michelle, I have good news and bad news."  The good news was that we were approved for the increase.  The bad news?  Well, the last 10 years Jim has not been a member at the credit union.  He has appeared on the checks, can sign stuff, can sign on MY credit card, but is not technically a member.  She also pointed out that if we had ended the marriage, I would have been responsible for the credit card AND the accounts associated with my member # at the credit union.

So now we need to go to a branch and he has to sign some paper and I have to show my ID.  Apparently they need to prove I'm still who I am.  Hopefully this fiasco will end on a positive note: Jim will become a true member of the bank and a responsible party of the credit card.

I am also excited, because I just received a package in the mail today - The Story For Children and The Story for adults.  This book is being used by Zoe's classroom for her Bible curriculum.  I fell in love with the illustrations and concept, so I had to have it for her (and Evie).  I also felt that I needed to read the book too!  So now I have my Bible as one continuing story of God and His people.  :)  I will definitely let you know, reader, what my opinion is of the series.  Have a glorious weekend.

A Night At PineHurst

Below is the entry Jim and I wrote and submitted to Children's Writer today:

“Good evening.  My name is Miranda Witsworth.  I am coming to you from PineHurst Mental Institution.  Originally called Pennsylvania’s State Institution for the Feeble-Minded and Epileptic, PineHurst went under scrutiny in the 1970s and finally closed its doors in 1987.  Since closing, people have spoke of hauntingly strange happenings on the campus.  My friends and I will be spending the night within its walls, and filming our findings.  Our hope is to put to rest, once and for all, the urban legends surrounding this place...”

“Friend,” I sighed under my breath.  Just her friend.  Miranda, the most beautiful girl at school, and me her equipment carrying friend.  Thankfully, Pete tagged along to make the situation less awkward.

“So what did you boys think?” Miranda asked sweetly.  “Do I sound like a real reporter?”

“You bet!” Pete exclaimed.  Miranda had that effect on everyone.

“Max? Max? Max!  What did you think?” Miranda called out to me.

I desperately wanted to answer, but I was frozen in fear.  My body was covered in prickling goosebumps and I couldn’t even utter a pathetic squeak.  The ominous graffiti on the cracked and crumbling walls was everywhere.  But the one phrase completely paralysing my mind and body was, “G.O.D. isn’t here.”

“Max, what is it?” Pete shook me.

“That,” I said pointing to the etched graffiti.  

“Why are there periods after each letter in God?” Miranda questioned.  

“Always the detective,” I thought.

All of a sudden there was an eerie almost disembodied laugh coming from down the corridor.  “Guys, did you hear that?”  My voice had barely returned.

“Did you hear a ghost Max?” Pete teased.  “Did it say ‘‘booooo!’?”

“Max, we’ve only been here less than a half...” Miranda was abruptly cut off.  There was the sound again; the sound of a little girl laughing.  I was grateful that Pete and Miranda both heard the voice this time too.

“Is there someone here with us?” Miranda exclaimed.  But the only answer was ghostly laughter.  “Well I guess we need to investigate boys,” Miranda asserted.  “Roll the camera Pete!”  “Oh brother,” I thought.

We began walking down hallway after hallway following the laughter only pausing briefly to catch our breaths or avoid an old discarded item in our path.  We would have continued had we not been abruptly stopped by a door with the words “G.O.D. isn’t here” etched below the epithet “Stairs To Tunnels”.

“Are you sure you guys want to continue?” I said with trepidation.

“Well, it’s the only way we’ll ever find out who or what is making that noise.  And I for one need to get to the bottom of this for our viewers.” Miranda said while looking professionally poised for the camera.  “Come on!”

We quickly descended the stairs and waited for the laughter to dictate our direction.  But we couldn’t hear it anymore.  Miranda called out, “Little girl where are you?”

Then everything went black.

I woke up in darkness, the back of my head throbbing in dull pain.  As I began to become more aware of my surroundings, I realized there was a constant sound of soft sobbing to my left.  My tongue felt dry and heavy as I said the first name that popped into my head.

“Miranda”, my voice sounded odd and alien to me.

The sobbing stopped and there was silence for what seems like an eternity; then a voice answered, “Is that you Max?”

“Yes”, was all I could manage as an answer.  I was vaguely aware of my voice being louder now, and that it was echoing oddly around me.

“Keep your voice down” Miranda replied, “if they hear you they will come back!”  I still couldn’t see her, but I thought I heard panic in her voice.  I was trying to remember what had happened and how we had gotten here.  I was drawing a blank.

“Was it ghosts?” I asked weakly.  There was a pause before Miranda answered and I became aware of a clicking noise echoing from what seemed to be far off.  Miranda’s voice started to shake when she answered.  I could tell she was on the verge of crying again.

“I don’t know where they came from,” she sobbed.  “We had descended the stairs and I called out to the little girl hoping to hear another giggle.  Then all of the sudden they were all around us.  I suppose they must have been hiding in the rooms.  They knocked you and Pete out and then turned to me”.  Miranda began to sob.  “Pete... he’s down here too... I’m not even sure if he’s breathing”.

I tried to process all of this.  It seemed like a bad dream.  So I did what anyone in this mess would do - I closed my eyes and pinched myself to wake up.  I slowly opened my eyes, but lost all hope when my surroundings hadn’t changed.

It was at this moment I realized the clicking sound was getting closer and it wasn’t just one click, but many clicks.  I tried crawling closer to Miranda, but my limbs were rubber.  My eyes began to adjust to the darkness and I realized it was lighter above us.  I could only see a dim outline of Miranda as she slowly crawled over to me.  I put my arm around her, and the two of us sat huddled together in desperation.

Above us, shadowy figures were lining the edge of our prison.  I could see the walls faintly now, and I could make out a large, spray-painted 10’ symbol.  “This must have been a diving pool at one point,” I thought.  The clicking sound had faded now and the pool was completely surrounded by people.  I couldn’t see any of their faces, but their clothes were filthy and in tatters.  Some held canes or rested on crutches.  “The clicking,” I thought.  Suddenly the darkness was broken by a blinding light; someone was shining a flashlight into our faces.  

A voice, slow and slurred, began to speak. “Why have you come to Home?”

Miranda spoke before I did, her voice a flurry of fear, “Please we are really sorry we didn’t know anyone was here and we didn’t mean to trespass if you let us go we swear we will never come back and never talk about it if you just let us go please”.  There was barely a breath in there and the stream of words broke down into sobs.  She ended with, “I just want to go home”.

My eyes were adjusting to the light now and I could see the faces of our captors.  They looked haggard, and in many cases deformed.  There were eyes that were too far apart, noses bent to one side, and mouths hanging slack.  The only thing I could think to say was, “Who are you?”

The one holding the flashlight answered back in his slurred voice, “We are the people who live here.  This is Home.  We were always here.  Once there were other people, the ones who hurt us.  They called themselves Guard, Orderly and Doctor.  Then they told us that Home was being shut down.  They left and told us we had to leave too, but we had nowhere to go, so we came back.  We will not leave Home.”

“We didn’t know you were here,” I yelled.  “If you let us go, we won’t tell anyone you are here.”  Through the pain and exhaustion, I tried to sound as assertive and angry as I could.  “If you don’t let us go, someone will come looking for us and they will kick you out of here!”

There was a chuckle this time before the voice began to speak.  “The men in the car with Blue and Red lights were already here.  They didn’t find you.  They don’t like to come down here.  They will find your car and cameras down by the river.  They will stop looking for you.

Miranda’s sobbing grew louder and my heart sank. My only response was, “Why? What do you want with us?”

There was a soft fluttery sound that ended in a dull thud as a packet of cloth landed next to me.  One landed by Miranda, and another by Pete.  I picked up the one closest to me.  It was a guard uniform.  Miranda held up a pair of scrubs.  I could barely make out what seemed to be a lab coat next to poor Pete.

“You will put these on,” the voice said.  “Tonight is the anniversary of when the Guards, Orderlies and Doctors left Home.  These people hurt us, so on Anniversary, we remember them and the the hurt they would do if they came back.”

Miranda was hunched over holding her costume sobbing, not even looking up or responding anymore.  I looked at the people above and realized they were all holding large rocks in their hands.  That was the moment I realized there are things much scarier than ghosts.

Grace for All (Part #2)

Two weeks ago, I wrote a blog about Grace: Grace for All and then I read The Ragamuffin Gospel and established new ideas of what Grace means.

Grace Proclaims the Awesome Truth that ALL is Gift
Brennan Manning stated the above and a light bulb appeared over my head.   Everything in our lives is a gift. Everything.  Not just what we THINK is a gift, everything that we have or see or hear or...well, just everything.  Brennan goes on to state:

"While there is much we may have earned - our degree, our salary, our home and garden, and a good night's sleep - all this is possible only because we have been given so much: life itself, eyes to see and hands to touch, a mind to shape ideas, and a heart to beat with love."

Let the Children Come to Me
If we are truly come to God as a child, a child hasn't really "earned" anything yet.  A child is open and honest.  A child is able to love and believe because they have life, not because they have been given a good job or found a life partner.  What about the person with special needs who might not be able to achieve a doctorate degree or a mansion and a yacht?  Are they less of a person?  Not in God's eyes.  He sees the heart - open and knowing.

I have been very blessed to have taught special needs students.  In fact, I have a few this year too.  One young man is in my 6th-8th grade music class at the school.  He has aspergers syndrome and his grandma spoke to me before the first class to let me know.  I had already viewed her grandson in a few social environments and knew he was a spectrum kid.  I believe music is a wonderful way to connect with children with special needs.  I have been making sure to call on this child and allow him to participate to his comfort level.  I got a message this morning via Facebook:

"Just want you to know how much xxxx is enjoying music class.....for the first time in his life, by the way!!!! Thank you Michelle!!"

But the truth is: her grandson is the blessing to me.  It is through children I see God's grace and His love.  

Everyday Mysteries

Brennan Manning writes:

"The gospel of grace calls us to sing of the everyday mystery of intimacy with God instead of always seeking for miracles or visions.  It calls us to sing of the spiritual roots such commonplace experiences as falling in love, telling the truth, raising a child, teaching a class, forgiving each other after we have hurt each other, standing together in the bad weather of life, of surprise and sexuality, and the radiance of existence."

Grace is everywhere and in everything we have.  How often we forget that if we are looking for "mountain top" experiences?  When truly we should be taking in what is right in front of our noses - looking to the current level of our world.  Our world is completely saturated with God's Love and Grace.  We are part of that, but so is EVERYTHING around us.  Why is this so hard to grasp?

I think it is because we cannot even imagine how great His love for us is.  I do think as a parent my understanding of God's love for us (his children) is much greater, but even then I know I am not even able to grasp it completely.  

I will leave you with this passage from Andrew Greeley's "What a Modern Catholic Believes About God":

"Reject Christianity, if you will, out of motives of cynicism; turn away from it because you believe.  Reality is malign and punitive; choose a God that is cantankerous, vindictive, or forgetful, or determined to keep man in his place, if such a God is more to your choosing.  If you cannot accept the idea that love is at the core of the universe, that is your privilege.  If you do not believe that the Absolute passionately wants to be our friend and our lover, then by all means reject such a seemingly absurd notion.  If you do not believe that we have the enthusiasm and the strength and the courage and the creativity to love one another as friends, then quickly cast aside such an incredible idea into the trash can.  And if you think it is ridiculous to believe that life will triumph over death, then don't bother with Christianity, because you can't be a Christian unless you believe that."

Which Hat Do I Wear Now?

or...how to keep a work/life balance in the midst of chaos

Lady Susana
http://www.flickr.com/photos/hortulus_aptus/2094078254/lightbox/

I have been extremely busy the last few weeks, as has been illustrated by my complete lack of blog posting.  I have been spending my time working on curriculum, organizing and cleaning my teaching space, researching Christmas programs, determining my work/life schedule, helping children with homework, etc.  But today, I decided it was time to update my readers on what has been going on in my neck of the woods (ahem...or my 1920s home).

The School Teacher Hat
I accepted the music position at the 11th hour - which basically means I had to bust my butt triple time to even be ready for the first day of school.  The previous teacher was not organized nor did he leave a synopsis of what he taught the children during his tenure.  After hours and hours of cleaning, I uncovered a ton of curriculum - quite good curriculum.  However, as I expected most of the students are not even familiar with a quarter note, let alone the solfege hand signs.  Which basically suggests that my predecessor did his "own" thing.  And really at this point it doesn't matter.

I have downloaded the grade level curriculum for the state and hopefully by June the kids will have a better understanding of what they should know.  Of course this is a tricky area, considering the 8th graders have the biggest gap to cover and they are the most resistant.  But I have not lost faith.

I realize that music must has been a "blow off" in the past, but I sincerely believe in the power of music and that these children have been given a true gift with having music instruction twice a week.

If you are interested in reading my daily/weekly stuff for music teaching you can go to: Music Musings.

The Private Teacher Hat
I determined my schedule would not accommodate teaching on Friday afternoons/evenings/at all.  I still have a little Evie home on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so it is pretty difficult to get everything done on those days.  Evie is my most compliant child (currently), so I am able to sit here and type a blog while she colors, etc.  But I currently continue to teach private lessons on Tuesdays, so it is a all I can do to get dinner ready in the crock pot and Zoe home from school before the crazy begins.  Regardless, I am noticing that Mondays are really tough.  I teach at the school all day and then I teach another 2 hours in the evening.  I have toyed with the idea of teaching on Thursday evenings instead, but I look to Thursdays as my one FULL day without ANYTHING to do....so I clean the house.

I am also toying with the idea of NOT doing a fall recital.  I have been doing 2 recitals for over 10 years now, and I feel quite obligated to my students and their families to continue with the way it has been.  However, I also used to teach through the summer months and had students with prepared music for the fall recital.  Since I no longer teach the summer through, I almost feel that 10 weeks is a lot of pressure to perfect music - especially for my older/more advanced students.  It also allows my new students time to feel comfortable for the spring recital.

I am leaning towards NOT doing the fall recital.  I just need to feel justified.  I know...take the leap.  But I still have that stupid guilt.

The Mommy Hat
The school year is in full swing.  Evie has a wonderful teacher who has been at the school for a long time.  I have not one concern with her - I truly love her hands on teaching style.  I am waiting (with baited breath) for my Van Gogh Eva to add to the wall with the Van Gogh Zoe.  The Kindergarten teacher is also the art teacher, so her kids learn different artists and then reproduce their own versions of famous works.  Just awesome.

Zoe started the school year crying. Her teacher from last year resigned 3 weeks before the school year started.  I promised Zoe that her teacher would be great, and we cannot be happier. Zoe quickly lost the tears, and loves her teacher. I really love her teacher too.  She is not the same teacher as the one who resigned, but in many ways I like her teaching style better.  The kids are working with their entire bodies to learn and I find that awesome!  Learning is more than facts and regurgitating answers, it is understanding and being able to retain the information well after a test or quiz.

Both girls are in baton, and Zoe is in her 5th year of ballet.  I am very unstressed with their after school choices, considering I don't have to drive back and forth multiple times a week.  One location.  One night.  One hour.  Perfect.

The Wife Hat
I am excited for this weekend.  Why?  Because Jim and I are celebrating 10 years of marriage on Friday!  We have been through so much, and I think back to 2 years ago and how things have changed dramatically since.  I am really looking forward to the time alone to connect alone.

So this is what I have been up to the last few weeks.  I look forward to getting back to a more often blog in the future.

Grace for All

"But grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. 

 To him be glory both now and forever! Amen." II Peter 3:18

The above scripture is our school's Bible verse for this academic year.  With the first part: "Grow in Grace and Knowledge" being the most important part.  For to really grow as a Christian, we must grow in both grace and knowledge.


Amazing Grace
Grace, which is mentioned in the Bible some 170 times, is being given something that we do not deserve.  God gives us this grace, or blessing, each and every day.  It is by His grace that we are saved from our sinful selves.  This is His gift to us even though we do not deserve it, and it is by this grace we are given eternal life.  We are a weak people, but it is through His grace to which he makes us strong.

If we are to be like Christ, we too need to treat other with that same grace and kindness.  God smiles when we serve others with the grace he bestows on us.  It might not be deserved; many do not behave in a way that they appear to "deserve" His grace nor ours.  However, as with all attributes of God - grace is something we need to "do" even when it seems impossible to understand why.







We can also remember Grace by this acronym:

God's
Riches
At
Christ's
Expense

I think Ephesians says illustrates the above best:

"For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—

and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— 

not by works, so that no one can boast." Ephesians 2:8-9

Knowledge is Power
Knowledge, which is mentioned in the Bible approximately 172 times (depending on the version/translation), is the familiarity with something or someone.  To have knowledge according to the Bible, one has the truth and knows why he/she has this conviction.  To be a Christian, we must be informed of our reasons we have chosen that faith and the truths which present themselves through the words and ministering of Jesus Christ.  God wants us to know Him, to appreciate Him, and to have a relationship with Him.  If we truly seek Him, God will grant us the insight to strive for knowledge.  And this knowledge for a Christian is the relationship with Christ and the living God.

Why Must We Have Both?
Have you ever encountered a "know-it-all"?  I have...many times.  In fact, I have noticed that know-it-alls beget know-it-alls...and that makes me very sad.  I think being a braggart is one of the ugliest personality characteristics.  Yes, it is important to have knowledge. To know His truth.  But bragging about what you know is not showing grace to the others around you.  We need to know His truth and understand what He wishes us to know...but to act humble and with grace is equally as important.

However, one can be kind and treat others with grace and not have the knowledge God wishes us to know. Yes, we should be kind - BE KIND BE LIKE CHRIST - but without background in scripture and the truth in faith grace can be lost in the shuffle.  No one attribute is enough in this case.  We must have grace and knowledge to be the way God would have us.  And I, for one, want to strive to this behavior.

As a teacher, which is different than parenting my Ladybugs, I must show grace and knowledge to my students this year.  I must do my best to exhibit these traits and help them learn how to as well.  I am in no way an expert, so I believe we will learn together.  And I hope that makes God smile.

Finding My Religion - Update

This is an update for a recent blog series.  If you are interested in reading: FINDING MY RELIGION

I ended the above blog series with questions regarding the future of my church family.  I left the readers wondering what decisions I would make for my future participation in our current church - or any church for that matter.  And honestly, at the point I opened the door to my religion background and opinions I really wasn't sure what the future might bring.

Hello Sunshine
This summer has been one of real changes.  We fixed the basement, I redecorated most of the home, and I reevaluated what was most important in my life.  Our church has also become a place where I find little comfort anymore.  The people who I was closest too have become strangers to me.  I am very close to throwing in the towel, and the straw that broke this camel's back?  Three little words: The Rummage Sale.

Each August our church has had an annual rummage sale, and has been for well over 50 years.  The Women's Fellowship chairs the event, and for usually one month the church looks like crap.  It smells like crap too.  However, this year the Women's Fellowship decided to have the sale in October.  Their reasoning was to limit the hot days working at the church.  And I seriously understood that the older you get the harder it is to handle hot days.

However, the rummage began taking over the church in June.  Yes, June.  The Board of Education, to which I am a current member, agreed to letting the filthy rummage take over 2 weeks in the Sunday School room.  However, the Sunday School room was already full of clutter and junk well over a month ago.  I tried to not let it bother me.  Mainly because I have resigned from teaching Sunday School this year.  I have taught for 5 years, and it is time for me to do something else.  I resigned at the August meeting.

But I digress.  This past Sunday I was the Substitute Music Director, and I pretty much called it my Swan Song at the church.  When I arrived the place looked like a garbage dump and smelled just as sweet.  Thankfully I went alone, without Ladybugs, because as I walked down the hall to the bathroom I noticed that even the playroom/nursery was full of rummage.  I was like - REALLY!?  Since when is the nursery a room to display this catastrophic mess.  I went home and shared my disgust with Jim, and he just shook his head.

Voicing My Opinions
Then I was asked to be a member of an elite meeting today at our church.  The committee is called The Pastoral Relations Committee, and they like to sit down with the pastor and discuss good and bad stuff.  I had no idea why they called the meeting, but it seemed like my opportunity to voice my concerns about how the church runs stuff.  So I let them have it - I talked about the money that sits in the bank ($200,000), the lack of mission work, the lack of advertising, and the fact that there is no communication whatsoever regarding ANYTHING.  I told them that the way the church looks appears to be one that is not welcoming for my girls, and that I cannot imagine any new people coming into the church with children and being happy with the condition of the environment.

I probably told them more stuff...but I made sure to sound well informed and stressed how other churches have kept their congregations and thriving, not just surviving.  The two older woman said that all Dearborn churches were doing poorly.  But I told them that was not the case.  I used a couple examples, and then stated that in order for our church to survive we must find out what other successful churches are doing and do THAT.  I was pleased at what I said, and how I kept my composure.  I also bet that the other three committee members and the pastor (maybe not the pastor) were a bit surprised at my candid commentary.

What Now?
Jim and I have made the decision to stop attending church until the rummage sale is over.  Regardless what the Director of Sunday School wants to do, we are going to stay home with our asthma and allergies (and our principals).  We have told the girls we can visit the church next to their school one week, but we already have plans this Sunday (meeting friends from out of town at Greenfield Village) and next Sunday (Family Reunion).  So we shall see how everything pans out in the next month or so, and you know I'll share it as it happens.

Beauty is Deceiving

Jim and I had the pleasure of spending a day together on Saturday - without the Ladybugs.  We went shopping (I needed a few new teacher clothing  items), we got massages, and we went to a botanical garden.

The Matthaei Botanical Gardens are part of the University of Michigan.  Jim and I used to go there more often when we didn't have children, so it was very relaxing to go alone again.  We have taken the Ladybugs a few times, but to be able to focus on just the beauty of the gardens was a novelty.

It was so peaceful to be able to use my senses on something besides keeping tabs on the Ladybugs.  However, I couldn't help noticing the correlation between humans and nature: beauty is truly deceiving.  Take this pitcher plant for instance:

It is beautiful.  However, if a bug lands on the lip of the pitcher, it will slip inside the flower.  And inside the flower are digestive juices that kill the bug.  Sound like someone you know?  How often have we been drawn to an attractive person who had an unkind soul and spirit.  I know I have been deceived more than once with friendships (and romantic relationships).

Of course there some plants which build a wall (or spikes) around themselves so you won't go near them:

I have definitely been in the above situation MANY times in the past.  I am physically unable to grow spikes, but I certainly had a very think wall built around my heart.  Interestingly enough, inside that cactus is a lot of water, and the spikes deter animals from getting the water within.

Of course some people (and plants) are beautiful on the inside AND out:

I think when a person leads with his/her spirit, their external appearance becomes more beautiful.  I also find that when I realize a person has an evil soul or grotesque spirit, I no longer find them attractive.

As with any nature trip - we were able to see creatures in their element.  I really love stumbling across animals working or just hanging out.

I also thought it was pretty remarkable to see this little toad poop.  Because as we all know - EVERYBODY POOPS!