Relocation with beavers

My sister and I originally thought we would hire a medical transport ambulance to bring Dad from Nebraska to a facility in Texas. Now we have decided to just throw him in the back of a rental SUV and drive like bats out of hell for the eleven-hour trip from Lincoln. The move should be the week between Christmas and New Years, so we will wear reindeer headbands from Target for our mad dash through the snow. The whole thing seems more like the outline for a Coen brothers movie than an episode of "Leave It to Beaver".

And speaking of "Leave It to Beaver", I was reading that poem to the preschoolers that goes:

Over in the meadow

 in a cozy wee den

lived an old mother beaver

and her little beavers ten.

"Beave" said the mother.

"We beave" said the ten,

so they beaved all day

in their cozy wee den.

What in the hey-ho is beaving? I found one listing in the dictionary for "beaver" meaning the movable visor on a helmet of medieval armor. Just when you thought life wasn't strange enough, imagine ten little beavers in full body armor all raising and lowering their visors. That would make spending a day listening to kids adjust the Velcro straps on their light-up shoes seem much more normal.


© 2010 Nancy L. Ruder