DEFCON 5

So, I'm still debating the merits of a recap of my trip home. I'm not sure if it's too specific or not. I mean, I COULD tell you how great Hubert Wong looked at my reunion, but how much would it really mean to you, unless you know him? In the meantime, I CAN tell you about a disturbing development in the world of Orville, that started while we were away.

In the post 9/11 world, we've all gotten familiar with the color coded, terror alert measuring system. You know, yellow means all is well, red means the end of mankind, or whatever the actual gradiations are. Well, here at Chez McCampbell, we've reached a code red. Our worst fears have been realized. Seems young Orville has figured out how to....wait for it.......OPEN THE REFRIGERATOR. You heard right. Fat boy has taken that snout of his, and learned how to help himself to the lower level of "that place where all my food comes from," as I imagine he thinks of it. This, my friends, is a problem.

Worse yet, he's done it several times since we've been home. In his most recent episode, I was typing away at the computer. I had one of those war movie moments. "It sure is quiet.....TOO quiet." As in, "why don't I hear Orville?" I go to the kitchen, and there he is, knee deep in, well, everything. In the most disturbing aspect of the equation, when I caught him, he was on his first bites of his SECOND helping of uncooked chicken breast, and washing it down with a few sips of Rockstar energy drink. Now, I hasten to remind you, pigs are supposed to vegetarian. Guess not. The end result is, now our fridge is secured with velcro straps. Time has yet to tell if he can penetrate that yet.

Growing up, I was a huge fan of the "Little Rascals." There's one of my favorite episdoes that has become even dearer to me since we got Orville. In the episode called, "Roamin' Holiday," Spanky, Alfalfa, Buckwheat and Porky all run away from home. In the middle, Buckwheat and Porky play on the good-nature of an older couple who run a bakery. Having essentially kidnapped the couple's dog, they parlay it into a bag full of goodies. Buckwheat explains how the dog is hungry, and that he likes cakes, pies, cream puffs, and even chewing gum. Everytime I walk into the kitchen these days, no matter WHAT I'm about to eat, when I look down at Orville's longing eyes, all I can do is hear him talking to me like Buckwheat, with this sweet, sing-songy voice, explaining to me how he's sure he'd like a piece of WHATEVER it is I'm eating. "I like pizza, Dad!" "I've never had it, but I'm SURE I'd like ice cream!" That sort of thing. And just like the kindly couple in the "Little Rascals," it's hard to resist.