“Certified Zombie Hunter”

Me: (I looked up from my wallet) Yeah…?

Cashier: That’s a good one. I like it. That’ll be $8.51

Me: (handing her the money, still slightly confused) Yeah…. Thank … you….

Then I looked at my purse as I was putting my wallet away. I had thrown it on the counter to get my money. It’s an olive green messenger bag with all kinds of pockets, including a clear plastic one for IDs. I had a Certified Zombie Hunter badge there. To match the bio hazard symbol patch on the front.

I nodded, said thank you, and took my groceries.

One of my friends gave me a “Walking Dead” shirt for my birthday, even though I’ve never seen the show. People assume. And it’s a cool shirt. Almost as cool as my “Keep Calm and Kill Zombies” shirt or my favorite “This is my Killing Zombies” shirt.

Another friend gave me a magnet zombie ribbon for my car. It will probably clash with my Zombie Response Team sign.

All this zombie stuff people give me is weird. It’s not like I’m obsessed with zombies. Not like I am about vampires, faeries, fantasy, fairy tales, ass-kicking warrior women. I only have like 3 or 4 books about zombies. I did tell one of the new English teachers that she should totally read Pride and Prejudice and Zombies because it’s hilarious and she just finished teaching Pride and Prejudice.

I just don’t know why people associate me with zombies. I don’t watch any of the zombie shows. I just don’t have the time. Or the movies. But you should see Zombieland. I’m so excited about the sequel. But if you see Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, don’t compare it to the book. Two wildly different story lines, but I love how they deliver the back story.

Then the other day, my dad teased me for my lack of hobbies. Apparently reading, blogging, writing novels and poetry, and smashing the patriarchy aren’t enough.

Tornado A: She does! She kills zombies!

Tornado S: And she’s a vampire!

Tornado E: And a witch!

See, I have hobbies.

(Also dibs on the vampire killing zombies story.)

Help! Zombies are eating my boys’ brains!

I’m absolutely dead serious here.  Dead.  Serious.

The Husband is pretty sure that I’m exaggerating, but then he hasn’t been here in over a week, and he was not here this weekend when it happened.  Oh, no.  He thinks I’m being melodramatic (as usual), and we’ll discuss the pros and cons of the situation when he arrives home later today.  Ok, I admit I’m making him look more patronizing than he is.  But then he’s acting like I’m exaggerating, and obviously I don’t.  (See quote to the right of the screen.)

This weekend I learned a) Tornado E can use the mouse to find and open up the zombie program that has no visual clues that it is “Plants vs Zombies,” b) my boys are willing to fight to the DEATH to gain control of the mouse and the game, and c) when I pull the plug from “Plants vs Zombies” my boys act like they are possessed, withering around, speaking in tongues, heads spinning.  The power of Christ compels you!

So zombies have eaten my boys’ brains.  Which is sad because they were such bright boys.

Now my mom, when she hears this, will smirk and say “I told you so.” Not helpful, Mom.  Not helpful at all.  How was I to know that this obsession would be more powerful than all others?  Remember when Tornado E was a dinosaur and answered everything in roars and then spoke in asides to translate to me?  Remember the months of Kung Fu Panda with Kung Fu kicks, hours of “Kung Fu Fighting.” and the need to go to McDonald’s to collect every figure?  (Though we missed two)  How about the recent obsession of The Princess and The Frog and Dr. Facilier?  Or the Mario Brothers and Bowser obsession that is in direct result of my mom’s Wii playing skills?

The only way to cure an obsession is time and distractions.  Easy, right?  Except that when I got out of the shower and was dressed, I realized it was quiet in the house.  Too Quiet.  Instead of them painting the cabinets with nail polish, gushing blood, sneaking into the cookies, eating chocolate milk powder, spraying the house with perfume, I found them in the office with the door closed, playing zombies.  (Actually they were looking at the zombie almanac discussing the various abilities of different zombies.)  Are you kidding me?  “Hi, Mom!  We tricked you!”


I’d lock them outside in the back yard if it wasn’t so damn hot, if we had grass, and if our yard was larger than a normal size living room.  Ok, if it wasn’t so damn hot, I’d lock them outside.

So I’m doing basic manuevers.  I’ve got a list of things they can do when I’m busy with a baby and don’t include screen time.  I just hauled home a half-dozen books from the library.  I will force them to help me cook and bake in the kitchen.  If all else fails, I’ll slather them with sunscreen and throw them outside with a couple of buckets of water and ice.

Damnit.  I will get my sons back.  No zombie can defeat me!

Failing that.  I always have a third child.


A couple of weeks ago, we bought “Plants vs Zombies” because they had a free trial on the new computer, and it HOOKED us all.  Especially Tornado E, who using ABC (Always Be Closing), convinced The Husband to buy the game because WE NEED IT, DADDY!

Countless hours of killing zombies and The Husband trying to mind his tongue, Tornado E is obsessed, or at least that’s what my mom is calling it.  Tornado E becomes “obsessed” over everything he likes, such as Kung Fu Panda, Mickey, Oceans, or How to Train a Dragon.   Like I said, Ev-er-y-thing.  He talks nonstop about his current obsession.  He plays games surrounding his current obsession.  God help me if his current obsession also involves a Happy Meal.

So why did I not expect zombies would come up at Tornado A’s baptism?

Priest: And how are you, young man?

Tornado E: I’m fine.  My daddy bought “Plants vs Zombies” and the plants have to kill the zombies and they shoot things at the zombies and the zombies are tying to get into Tornado S’s house but then there are lawn mowers that get them.  Isn’t that funny?  And you know what?  The zombies keep coming and there’s a troll zombie with a little kid on his back and he shoots the little kid and he’s hard to kill.  My daddy is the zombie killing master.  And you know what?  Zombies-

Me: I think that’s enough, Tornado E.

Tornado E: But I haven’t told him about-

Me: I know.  Tell Uncle T instead.