2012. Almost in the books now. And as we look back at a year that held more than its share of horror and heartache - all the while teetering atop Fiscal Cliffville - I can't help but to wonder:
What the heck will 2013 bring?
Here's hoping for fewer "Hmpfs!" and more "Ha, ha, has!", anyway.
And just to be certain we get the New Year off on the right foot, I'm going to recount for you the most silly, ridiculous things that happened to me in 2012.
It's like I always say, if you can't laugh at yourself - don't worry, someone else is already all over that. Besides, the good Lord did not give me hair like a big brown Brillo pad on steroids without a healthy sense of humor to go along with it.
So, spinning a mental wheel back over the past 12 months in search of a bit of levity, I can clearly see it landing on a bright spring afternoon in April. Ah, yes, that was the week after Easter when we decided to get a jump on camping season by spending Kyle's spring break from school down at the site doing prep work. Great planning, too, since we were experiencing unseasonably warm temperatures and sunny skies.
Right up to the point when I reached mile number four on my morning run - a.k.a. the "halfway point and you have to run four any way you slice it now" spot - at which moment a dark cloudburst opened up and vomited three inches of spring snow all over my head.
When I got back to camp looking like the Abominable Snow Monster from "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer," Kerry had the bad sense to ask if I was cold. Not nearly as frigid as he was when I tossed his pillow and blanket outside for the night.
But it wasn't all chilly and frosty. In fact, some of 2012 was downright sweltering. Like during those scorching hot days this past August when our whole-house cooling system, which had been on life support for the two preceding summers, finally flat-lined.
I mean, what are the odds that we'd be without air-conditioning on the two very hottest days of 2012? Pretty good, it turns out. And if you think a peri-menopausal woman with the core body temperature two-degrees warmer than the surface of the sun will appreciate a joke from her much cooler husband that, "at least the ice machine on the fridge matches the A/C; it's broken, too. Ha, ha!" - think again. If Mama is hotter than Mount St. Helen's, you better stand back because she's going to explode any second.
Hmpf and KABOOM!
Nevertheless, those two very special memories rather pale in comparison with what was arguably my top shining moment of the year. It came in the wee hours of Aug. 19. It was as quiet as a mouse in the house after I bid goodnight to the boys and our dog Monnie following a long day helping to organize a 5K run. Everyone else was sleeping but I had retired to the powder room where I thought I saw something moving out of the corner of my eye. I chalked it up to exhausted imagination.
That is, until an unusually large mole scurried past me and behind the bathroom sink. Oh fine. It was tiny. Terrifying, nonetheless!
I let loose a blood-curdling scream so atrocious that our cousins in Utah heard it and called to check if I was OK.
"No, no I'm not," I replied from my perch atop the closed toilet lid.
"Mom, what the heck?" said Kyle, who'd been frightened awake by my shrieking and came flying down the stairs. "I thought someone was in the house!"
Indeed, someone was, as he soon found out when the mole scampered across his toe.
"Ew!" he said, hopping around like rabbit in a room full of Elmer Fudds.
And, as I leapt from chair to table to counter, I couldn't help but squeal every time the poor thing revealed itself to us in its blind dash to escape the complete wingnut screeching her lungs out.
The good news? We survived the sneak attack by the world's most wily mole. Sadly, he himself will not see the ball drop on Monday night sorry, Mr. Mole.
Either way, what I look forward to the most in 2013 is actually a carryover from 2012 and 2011 and, well, you get the idea: Another year with my son, husband, pup and family and friends. What more could a gal ask for?
Well, that and no more moles in the house.
Happy New Year, all!
Kimerer is a Tribune Chronicle columnist. Contact her with fun ideas for 2013 columns at firstname.lastname@example.org.