Our rabbit keeps escaping. Our neighbors keep bringing her back.

Flopsy is home safe. Again.

I've learned a few things through our experiences with our pet rabbit, Flopsy. A lot of things exactly. She really likes the wild chives that grow in our yard. I like to find them, pick them and feed them to her and she gets all hoppity and her rabbit teeth really go to town on the greens when I hand them to her through the mobile "rabbit tractor" where she spends her days.

I've also learned that Flopsy also seems to yearn for freedom. A lot. Sort of. To a point. Yesterday Flopsy got loose from her rabbit tractor but just hopped a bit around the yard until one of the kids "found" her. It was hardly a mad dash for freedom in the nearby woods. I actually think Flopsy likes the attention she gets from a whole host of Sabo kids. Which is probably better than the attention she might get from a fox or the raptors she would encounter in the woods.

She's also, near as I can tell, the neighborhood's favorite pet. She occupies her little rabbit tractor cage by day and we move her around in the yard and she munches on grass and leaves behind organic fertilizer. It's a mutually beneficial relationship we have but all the neighbors who walk and drive by like to see Flopsy. On more than one occasion when she hasn't been in her rabbit tractor for whatever reason I've had a neighbor ask if she's alright.

Last Friday, I returned home late in the afternoon and would soon learn that Flopsy had, once again, escaped. This time she had made a legitimate effort to hop to freedom and a search of the surrounding area turned up no sign of Flopsy. I learned that Flopsy escaped not from one of the kids, but when I answered a knock at the door. See, I learned something about our neighborhood: We have great neighbors. Even ones I don't know.

It was an older gentleman who asked if our rabbit was missing. I turned to the kids and they informed me that Flopsy had escaped earlier in the day and that there was no trace of her. Our guest at the door, whose name I didn't catch, then described how our rabbit was all the way down at the end of our street in a yard. Munching away on the grass.

As he was telling me how cute our little bunny is and how he likes seeing her in the yard when he drives by another car pulled into the driveway. I didn't recognize the car or the people in it but a young teenage girl got out and lo and behold she was holding Flopsy. She handed the rascally rabbit to Gabe, we thanked her profusely, the older gentleman left smiling and all was good in the neighborhood again.

Who has neighbors like these? What a great place to live. I'm also glad we can provide some G-rated community drama and entertainment. And finally, I have a message for Flopsy.

You can run, but you can't hide.

Happy 13th Birthday To Gabe

Gabe teaching Seth the finer points of rivah wading.

Gabe is celebrating his 13th birthday today, which means that among other things we're back up to having five teenagers in the house.  Gave is a brother with a big heart and an easy, contagious laugh. Just ask Claire. When Gabe really gets to cackling Claire just loses it and starts giggling as well.

He loves animals and every morning faithfully transports our bunny, Flopsy, from her spacious hutch to her bunny cage in the yard. Flopsy has become something of a neighborhood mascot. I've had people ask where I live and when I describe it several people have said, "Oh, the house with the bunny in the yard." Yep.

If you see Gabe in the front yard, he will wave to you. And keep waving until you wave back. So please wave back. Gabe loves the beach and catching minnows and little blue crabs in his net. He loves the snow and likes to ride his bike around the yard and will spend hours on end building Legos.

He likes to play soccer but is one of those kids who likes more to be a part of the team and making friends than the competition aspect of it. He's worked hard over the years and has become a very good soccer player, but he's one of those kids that is simply a great teammate who encourages the other players, is unselfish and works hard.

He's a joy to have as a son. Gabe is kind, patient, thoughtful and a good big brother, quick to help his little brothers.

Happy birthday Gabe. We love you.

When Things Get Crazy Around The S'mores Campfire

Seth rocked the cuteness factor around the campfire.

The other night the Sabos partook of the quintessential American camping experience. That's right, we made a campfire and roasted up some S'mores. In the ditch in our front yard. One of the best things about moving away from our old neighborhood in Gloucester to our new digs in metropolitan Hayes/Gloucester Point/Wicomico (I'm never sure where the outskirts of Hayes or Gloucester Point collide with the inskirts of Wicomico) is that we left the HOA behind. Because I'm pretty sure the HOA cops would have been all over us if we had tried to build a campfire in our ditch in our front yard and made S'mores. Unless maybe we would've shared with them.

Anyway, I'm happy to report that the only things that caught fire other than the wood we used to feed the Sabo campfire were marshmallows. Despite Judah's best intentions. A time or two his flaming 'mallows came dangerously close to flammable and combustible materials -- for example his sisters' hair -- but some quick action by Taylor managed to defuse -- literally -- any potential hair fires. Unfortunately, it seems that some elements of the Sabo family used the excuse of a family campfire to sort of terrorize the neighbors. Let me explain.

Before things got really crazy around the campfire.

The campfire was still ablaze when Julie and I had retired to the comforts of our home, content in the knowledge that the kids were under adult supervision (Taylor, his girlfriend Bethany, Evie, MerriGrace and the like) and having an enjoyable time making tasty campfire treats. Or so we thought. I'm not sure who came up with the brilliant idea, but it seems once the Hershey's chocolate bars and marshmallows all but burned up, or got devoured, someone decided that the appropriate thing to do was to dance crazily around the campfire and chant when someone drove by in their car. Not only that, but they decided collectively that they should go fetch our bunny "Flopsy" from her rabbit hutch and have someone hold her above their head as they danced as if it were some sort of crazed Gloucester ritual.

Apparently there were cars that drove by -- slowly -- when this was going on. One even stopped just down the road. When they related this story to me and after I quit nearly busting a gut from laughter I lectured them about how people already think we're a little bit `off' because we have so many kids. Now this? Now what will people think? Well, being a stand up guy who takes responsibility for his family, I have to say it was the older kids' fault. I also have to say, I wish I could have been there to see it stop the shenanigans. It does explain one thing though. I understand why I've seen beefed up police patrols in our neighborhood.