Thursday, May 20, 2010

Secret Agent Moms. Please Don't Tell Anyone.

Do you remember a couple of weeks ago we posted this?  The MommyLand Schmidt Advisory System?  Well, apparently this was interpreted on the internet as us being government agents.  Seriously, we started getting hits from the oddest places.  There's no other explanation.  The frequent references to Little Terror Suspects may not have helped either. 

I guess there are people out there who think that there is an actual US Department of MommyLand Security.  Well, there certainly should be.  So yesterday afternoon, we decided to start one.  We prefer to call it the MommyLand Security Agency (MSA)*.  Not the NSA, because that's for professionals.  In this capacity, we feel we are semi-professional

*It is also not MRSA, which is scary and should be avoided if possible.  Because it is gross and also you can die from it.

While we were giggling over the fact that we were secret agents, something amazing happened.  And this whole story is totally 100% true.  We got a secret message.   And that's how we knew that we actually were spies.  Because someone posted a comment very late last night, and it was entirely in Chinese.  We decided first thing this morning that it was our patriotic duty to decode it.

But first we had to clean up some dog vomit and get the kids off to school.  Dooty calls.

After I dropped the kids off, I got a frantic text message from Kate: "Urgent! I have translated the message.  Call me."

Now to say I was impressed with Kate's covert-ops language skills is a bit of an understatement.  I was gobsmacked.  You translated a secret message from Chinese to English before breakfast?  In the twenty minutes it took me to drive the kids to school?  Oh Kate.  You are so awesome.  With your gorgeousness and your Dior shoes and your ability to break enemy code while applying lipstick on your way to work...  You deserve a medal.

Then she said something about cutting and pasting it into Google's translator.  

But whatever, she did it.  And she was ready to tell me the message.  Pins and needles!  Do we have to bust up an international gang of drug dealers?  Is someone trying to build a death ray and only we can stop them?  Is one of our beloved readers trapped in a factory on the other side of the globe and needs us to recue her?  I nervously whispered if I should hang up and call her back from a more "secure line." She sighed and said, "You better sit down."

Here is the communication we received last night from our Chinese language correspondent:

"Please you will purchase this Hello Kitty vibrator."

Oh.  Umm.  Oh (again).  But what does it mean?  The stupid Cap'n was all: "It's spam, Lydia.  Chinese spam.  It means exactly what it says.  Please stop calling me at work.  You are not a secret agent.  And perhaps you might consider that a real secret agent would not blog about her activities.  No.  I am not a spy, either.  I'm not sure you really grasp what secret means.  Sigh... Can I go now?  Also, please tell me to take you off speakerphone before you start talking about vibrators."

But he is just jealous.  And I am going to call back in a minute and tell him so.  It's not spam.  It's a secret code.  Oh, I'm having a breakthrough!  I get it now.  I think it has something to do with this:


I think maybe there's a connection here, people.  Kate and I have work to do. 

Fortheloveofpete, Kate. Stop humming the theme to Mission: Impossible and lurking behind corners holding a pretend gun and then jumping out with karate hands. Super. Now it's in my head, you snitch. STOP TRYING TO SCARE ME!  Agent Fancy, I'm about to Square Up...  We have serious work to do. 

First, I called Aunt Mary. Obviously. She sent me the Hello Kitty Sandwich Maker to begin with and she mentioned it in a comment on the blog months beforehand. So "Hello Kitty {insert name of small household electronic}" is obviously code for something very important. Unfortunately, Aunt Mary seemed to think that I was either joking or coming completely unhinged. She was very kind, but neither helpful nor supportive. She kept saying "Get some sleep, Lydia.  Really.  Or have a nice cup of tea for your nerves. A little Earl Grey never hurt anyone."  I hung up assured of her innocence but deeply concerned nonetheless.

I fear she may be a pawn in this dangerous game.

But a few hours later, it happened!  I found the evidence I was looking for. I was reading all about how hot David Beckham is international news from the UK and I saw this:



Holy crap, y'all.

I have never seen a Hello Kitty vibrator before. But I'm pretty sure if they exist and somebody decided to make them into action figures, they would look just like this.  This is the message.  We have been called to action.  We will not refuse this call.  FEAR NOT, Great Britain! 

Sigh... I just called the Cap'n again and he still thinks we're stupid.  I think he's being unreasonable.  Not really secret agents?  Come on.  Let's use logic and reasoning to review the data collected so far that firmly establishes that only we can save the London Olympics from disaster: 

1) Kate and Lydia start a blog and establish their awesomeness on a global level.  Even though only about 17.3 people per day actually read it.
2) Lydia's Aunt Mary leaves a random comment about a Hello Kitty small household electronic device.
2) Two months later it arrives and makes delicious ham and cheddar panninis.
3) A few weeks later, the MommyLand Schmidt Advisory System is launched worldwide.
4) A comment is received in Chinese (presumably from a resident of the former British colony Hong Kong) in the middle of the night and leads Kate and Lydia to their destiny...

Wenlock and Mandeville, you big Hello Kitty-looking Mascots, get ready to meet Kate and Lydia. No one and I mean NO ONE is going to mess with the London Olympics.  Pervy terrorists be warned, MommyLand is on the case. 

Relax, England, we got this.   America's secret weapon is ready to be deployed. 

Awaiting next transmission...

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