Criminal Mastermind

My recent attempt at sanity and home organization (at which I am failing miserably, both counts) is a giant whiteboard calendar that hangs on the kitchen wall. Reminders of mundane daily life are recorded. Pizza day at school! Pack $1.

Pending social events are recorded. Birthday party at Ice Rink. Anniversary party at Ruth Chris.

And, of course, the medical appointments.

This month, Ethan is fortunate enough to have two doctor visits looming. The first with his allergist and the second for a booster dose of the H1N1 vaccine. Unlike his mom, he is a brave patient and does not cry during shots. However, visiting the doctor is still not high on his list.

This morning, I was peacefully drinking my coffee and pondering the calendar. Something was different ...

The majority of the calendar dates were intact, however, Ethan's doctors' appointments had spontaneously disappeared. In their places on the schedule, the evil genius who had devised this plan of imbroglio had carefully illustrated line drawings of giant orange turkey heads with cartoon bubbles overhead, "GOBBLE GOBBLE."

I assume the perp must have thought the plan would go something like this. On doctors' appointments days, I will refer to the calendar, get confused and think, "No appointment today? But I see it IS The Day of The Turkey." And instead we would roast a big bird. Or pay a visit to a farm. Or perhaps book an Aeroflot flight to Istanbul. The plan is brilliant in its ambiguity, really.

I am sharing this with you, the Internet public, so that you will be aware. Obviously there is a home invader preying upon innocent kitchen calendars and disfiguring them for his own twisted purposes (i.e. to avoid shots).

Please be advised and protect yourselves accordingly. There is no telling when or where he might strike next.