may be habit forming

christmas lights. the griswold's are across the street. creepy purple house is behind us one house over. blinky red and white lights are directly behind us. strung up on their deck railing. looks like a fifth grader strung them up. but they didn't. we saw the mom hanging them. and will notices every. single. one. it's on. it's off. it's on. it's off. and they just took down their blinky orange halloween lights. a few days ago. lucky us. it's all he talks about. he wakes up in the morning. he asks about them. when he wakes up from his nap it's dark out. he asks about them. last night we threw the kids in the car. for a light tour. around the neighborhood. and will hasn't stopped talking about the santa. that waves his arm. like this [waving his arm held out straight]. all. day. long. guess where we're going tonight.

change of scenery

you may have noticed i used to have ads on my blog. or maybe not. because i wasn't making any money. so i took them off. they were funny though. they were all related to my blog topics. i found them to be hysterical. my favorite was the one when i posted the story about our mailbox. the ad was for a swing away mail box. never lose your mailbox again. anyway, there is a new feature now. if you don't want to comment just check a quick box. to let me know your reaction. you don't even have to log in to check the box. you can customize them. i can only have three though. it was a tough decision. and if you don't like the choices suggestions are welcome.

some assembly required

last tuesday my parents came for a visit. they were here early for thanksgiving. and to celebrate will's birthday. normally they don't come that early. but they had to this year. their ceiling is falling. like the drywall. in their dining room and family room. so, they had to move their furniture and the like out. every. single. thing. in case the drywall crashes to the floor. we are all thankful that didn't happen. while my dad was sitting there. glued to a lifetime movie. while my parents were able to watch the kids i was totally taking advantage. i wrapped all of the christmas gifts. even stuffed the kids' stockings. now, for the normal person there would be no issue. but it's me. and there was an issue. i bought sophie three sets of mini meals made by fisher price. they are little plastic meals that include sandwiches, pizza, fruit and most of them have interactive parts. they are way clever. and i was totally excited about them. i decided to take them all out of their boxes and place them in her stocking individually. as i was putting the single items in i felt that my hand was wet. yes. wet. i immediately looked up. and was wondering what else could be leaking. nothing. so, i put my hand in it again. not only was my hand wet but the stocking was wet too. i felt the counter. it was not wet. i stuck my hand back in the stocking and started to pull out all of the items. and there it was. the tomato. i shook it. and sure enough. what looked like water came out. i took them straight from the shipping box. removed the items from their taped boxes. and placed them into the stocking. how in the eff could water get in it. i noted to myself that the liquid did not smell. i noted to myself the liquid did not burn my skin. i shook the tomato again. like i didn't believe myself. it was indeed full of water. full. i thought maybe they used water in their die stamping and it was just left in there by mistake. but still weird. and none of the packaging was wet. i took the receipt and called fisher price. the lady told me there shouldn't be any water in it. oh. really? she told me it must have been submerged in water. oh. really? i explained to her that i had just gotten them. the boxes were taped. no one touched them. except me. when i put them in the stocking. she told me she was sorry. but there shouldn't be any water in it. i didn't know fisher price was located in northern indiana. i was totally unsatisfied with the conversation. she did not ask me my name. she did not ask me for my phone number. she did not ask me where i bought them. she did not ask my for the upc code. she did not ask me when i received them. she did not suggest to call toys r us where i purchased them. which is what i plan on doing next. she should be fired. i can only assume someone used this item. and sent it back. and it got shipped back out. to me. i swear every broken, missing part or deffective thing is sitting in a big freaking bin somewhere. with my address on it. ready for me to place the order. because the next thing you know my mom and i are at the grocery store. we are looking at butter. i grab one tub. and then put it back. because i thought i saw one cheaper. but i didn't. so i picked up another tub of the original brand i chose. and it was really light. because it was half empty. yes. half empty, folks. like someone used it. and put it back on the shelf. i couldn't believe it. so, i took the plastic top off. and i found a sealed and unopened plastic lining. now how does that happen? and more importantly how do i always find it. i kept it in my cart. and gave it to an employee. so someone didn't realize it wasn't full and get home to discover 'i can't believe it's not there.' after we checked out. i went straight home. if there was ever a day i felt i would be hit by lightening it was that day.

another year

i can't believe will is three. well, not yet really. a few more days. we just celebrate it at thanksgiving. this year he requested olivia. and cupcakes. the kid loves his cupcakes. so i made one super cupcake. and five smaller jumbo cupcakes for will and sophie and all the cousins. every time we would hand will a present to open he would ask (gasping), 'what is gonna be in there!?'

happy thanksgiving

i think we can all be thankful this turkey isn't on our table this year.

par for the course

you all know by now my dad can't hear. and some times what he actually does hear is more funny than what was actually said in the first place. if i remember correctly, on most nights growing up, i would have a joke or funny story to tell at the dinner table. and it was usually so funny i could barely get the words out of my mouth. because i was laughing so hard. i could hardly tell it. this particular night i told a joke that looking back i don't think i truly understood. not in seventh grade. and now that i think about it wrong on so. many. levels. but thought it was darn funny at the time. funny enough to tell at the dinner table. it was about this gay guy that walked into a bar. and the bartender told him he wouldn't serve his kind. so after a few minutes of begging the bartender finally lets him in but makes him sit over in the corner. the next thing you know a couple of cowboys waltz in and say they are so thirsty they could lick the sweat off of a cow's balls. and the guy in the corner said moo, moo, buck-a-roo. after finally delivering the punchline we all broke out into hysterics. and a few minutes later when the laughing stopped and the tears were wiped from our faces my dad asked, 'golf balls?' and then the laughter started again. now every time we didn't hear something or someone delivers a punchline we always ask, 'golf balls?'

driving miss crazy, part quattro

in case you can't make out what the bags say...the first one reads: help wwjd love your neighbor you're making me sick. the second one reads: wood your smoke is killing me.

in the weeks since i visited moho there have been many happenings. since the first few crazy neighbor incidents moho has become friendly with the township supervisor. because the crazy neighbor lady has gone from calling the fire department on her to calling him. as i mentioned before moho and her husband live on a lake. and there are a few flights of stairs that lead down to the dock to their boats. under the landing of the stairs they have a nice little space that they use for storage. this year they decided to enclose it. which is totally legal. with no permit required. upon doing so the township supervisor got a call. from moho. moho left a message telling him that she is building a bath house on the side of their hill. with no permit. now, the township supervisor has spoken to moho on the phone before and he knew it wasn't her. and who would call and tell on themselves that they were building an illegal structure. it obviously was the crazy neighbor impersonating moho. and if that wasn't bad enough the other day moho wakes up to find these leaf bags. placed just inside crazy neighbor's yard but facing moho's house. wwjd. he would burn the freaking wood. that's what jesus would do. because that's how he kept warm. and cooked his food. without going into too many details the crazy neighbor is married. and they have two children. the son shares the same first name as his father. not so unusual. but their daughter shares the first name of her mother. a little unusual. the father is a deacon at a church. and the mother is a professor at a local college. in psychology. i rest. my. case.

hello pot. it's kettle.

will has a temper. i have always insisted he use his words. instead of kicking. hitting. and making weird noises. at the top of his lungs. the other day was no exception. he was standing in front of the cabinet below our tv and he went into one of these fits. after asking him twice to use his words he refused. so i put him in his bed. where he spends his time calming himself down. and i don't have to listen to him. when he is done he usually calls for me. or as of late, he just gets out of his bed by himself. this particular time when he got up he actually told me what happened. as his lip was quivering he held up his big toe. sure enough, part of the nail on his big toe was bent back. we have a tie to keep the cabinet doors shut but there is a little play in them. he must have caught his toe nail on one of them doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing in the first place. and got mad. so, instead of using his words and taking two minutes to solve the issue we were now going on a half an hour. and now sophie is doing it too. man, that girl is nothing but theatrics. not hard to believe. my husband's mom had a temper. my husband has a temper. i have a temper. and my dad has a temper. i was just reminded of this very fact the other day when my sister mentioned the taco incident. we ate as a family. at the dinner table. at 5:30. i sat across from my dad. and my sister sat across from my mom. every night. i honestly don't know how my mom did it. she worked part-time until i was a sophomore in high school and then went full-time. and she always had dinner on the table. unless my dad was out of town. and then sometimes she took us to arthur treachers fish and chips. my mom is the bomb. anyway, one of those nights we were having tacos. my dad is quite meticulous. even with tacos. he had just finished placing his taco fixings in his soft shell complete with a few shakes of tabasco sauce to top them off. now, we all know that if you don't fold in one end of the taco all of the fixings fall out the opposite end you are putting in your mouth. and that's exactly what happened. the next thing you know my dad is furiously mashing up the rest of the once intact taco with his hands while we all just stared at him. and his taco. that was now a salad. wanting to laugh. right. out. loud. so, i have to admit they both come by it honestly. and, for the time being, i will just pass on introducing them to the taco.

time to make the doughnuts

after this week's face plant will has been getting out of bed. by himself. on both feet. it's been kind of weird. since i am not used to having anyone walk around the house at random and then all of a sudden a child is walking around. when the last time i saw him i had put him in his bed. kind of startles you like when you see a mouse out of the corner of your eye. in your car. he has been really good about it. until this morning. i was sleeping on the couch. no shocker there. i heard a thump on the floor. i opened my eyes to see that it was pitch black out. i heard will open his door. very loudly. he can barely get to the door handle. because he has to carry out his paddington bear, his pillow and percy. all at the same time. anyway, next thing i knew i was getting a paddington bear, a pillow and a percy in my face. and this is the conversation that followed:

will: oh, hi! good morning!

me: good morning! oh, honey it's still dark out. it's not time to get up yet.

will: (pausing) hmmmm. i know! i have a great idea! i'll turn the light on!

quote of the day

'momma made me muffins today. she made them all by meself.'

will, almost 3

identity fraud

i went to ferris state university for printing. i took graphic arts classes in high school so it was the most logical thing for me to study. plus, i liked it. at the time. little did i know. it was mostly lab classes. but we were required to take basic math, english and a few business classes. even made the dean's list one quarter. no big deal. until i decided to get my bachelor's degree. at central michigan university. and i am not very fond of that place to this day. for a variety of reasons. and don't ask why i didn't continue on and get my bachelor's from ferris. behind (yes. that's what i call it. because what was once in front of you is now behind you) sight is twenty/twenty. anyway, central has these things called university program classes. it's like the first two years you are there you have to take all these bullshit classes before you get into the classes for your major. because they don't offer associates degrees, unlike ferris, is what i am thinking. so, i basically went there to take these kind of classes. because all of the printing classes transferred. it was there that i took statistics. not once. not twice. but three effing times. the first test of my third try i got an a. duh. i had already had that information three freaking times. by then something should have stuck. anyway, as i made my way through my third attempt at taking the class i begged my instructor to give me a d-. so i could move on with my life. i got a d+. that is how bad the curve was. and how everybody else sucked at it too. and then there was my philosophy class. okay class, here is your textbook. now, you are going to read some scenarios and then tell me what you think. and then when i grade your papers and tests i am going to tell you that you're wrong. who in the hell thinks up this stuff anyway. and that we have to pay for that crap. growing up i remember watching CHiPs, the gong show and 60 minutes. yes, folks, that's right. 60 fricking minutes. every sunday at seven pm. right next to my dad. who, laying on his left side on the couch propped up on his left elbow, legs extended with his right leg draped over his left towards the floor drinking one 16 ounce bottle of coke and eating a hunk of colby cheese (oh, yes. the roll kind wrapped in wax), a hunk of ring bologna and a package of krispy crackers. this concoction was not just for 60 minutes however. that was pretty much every night. anyway, back to the philosophy class. in the first few days the instructor kept talking about morley safer and as i was drifting in and out of consciousness i could not figure out why in the hell he kept bringing up the guy from 60 minutes. well, from what i can remember there were something like three ways you could look at a scenario. one being the morally safer way. not morley safer. the 60 minutes guy way. i think i ended up with a d+ in that class too.

i need somebody

will goes in streaks. not the streaking kind of streaks. he does that all the time. streaks where he is good at going to bed. and streaks where he is not. we are currently in a streak of him not going to bed good. we are not fans of coddling. when it's bedtime. it's bedtime. last night was no exception. or maybe it was. after repeated warnings that bedtime was near he started. whining. kicking. hitting. since he refused to go on his own my husband picked him up and put him in bed. he is almost three and he is still in his crib. i have no issue with this fact. he has shown no desire to move to a big boy bed. and i enjoy what sleep i do get at night. he can stay in his crib until he is fifteen for all i care. so, he is in his crib at this point. screaming. bloody. murder. my husband finally makes it out of his room as he is totally inconsolable. we can make out that he is screaming that he does not want to go to bed. he is screaming so loud you can picture the veins in his neck bulging. and his eyes popping. and in the moments to follow his rhythmic screaming turned to concern. for a moment. he then was screaming that he needed help. my husband asked if he should go in. i said hell no. it's just a ploy. after a couple of minutes of yelling help i decide to go in. because he can't sweet talk me. i won't let him. i open the door. and it's dark in there, of course. but in the brief second that it took me to scan his bed he isn't in it. my heart stopped. he is, in fact, on the floor. needing help. in that instant i believe i won parent of the year award. he was laying face down on the floor. and sobbing. uncontrollably. by that time my husband came in the room. we checked him out and he seemed to be okay. after a brief investigation of the crime scene we determined it was an over the top rail crib escape attempt. thank god we watch csi. we got him calmed down. about fifty-three minutes later and he was happy as a clam. and back in bed. next time he tries that shit he had better be on a skateboard.

i don't know's on third

my husband's name is jeremy. he goes by jeremy at work. but at home he goes by jay. and all of his friend's call him jay. or jaybird. before we got married i was living in grand rapids. and he was living in midland. after he bought my engagement ring he called my parent's house. he wanted to show them the ring. before he gave it to me. and this was the conversation:

jay: hi, bill. this is jeremy (we don't know why he said jeremy. he was probably just trying to sound formal). i have something to show you. i just wanted to know if you would be home so i could bring it over.

my dad: yeah, we'll be here (hangs up the phone).

my dad (looking over at my mom): i don't know who the fuck jeremy is but he's coming over.

true story. verbatim. and every time i tell it i laugh. right. out. loud.

another open letter

dear backyard-neighbor-who-continues-to-burn-leaves-and-not-turn-them-while-burning-causing-an-unnecessary-amount-of-smoke-which-is-now-filling-our-house-for-the-second-week-in-a-row:

next year i will just give you $150 to have those leaves taken care of for you.

thanks

p.s. no, moho does not live behind me.

driving miss crazy, part tres and three quarters

the same weekend i was visiting moho she exhibited some of her finer driving skills. of course. this was the best one i have seen. yet. the cake topper, if you will. in michigan, and i am sure other places, when turning left you some times have to go past the road you want to turn left on and make a u turn in a designated lane heading the opposite direction you were travelling to then turn right onto to the street you wanted to turn left on in the first place. we call this a michigan turn. usually, this is on a multiple lane road divided with a boulevard. so, here we are at an intersection. we need to turn left. this particular intersection does not have a michigan turn. but it needs one. we had a green light. however, the light in the middle of the boulevard for through traffic was red. moho explains to me that this happens all of the time. and cars behind her start to drive and get stuck blocking the cross traffic because there is only room for one car at the light in the boulevard. she then proceeds to say, 'so, this is how i fix it.' and runs the red light. all i could do was laugh. out. loud. because, after all, she did look both ways before she ran it.

quote of the day

'i was playing in the mud when i was a little girl like sophie.'

will, almost 3. telling us about his day at the dinner table last week.


later that same night as he was climbing on couch cushions we stacked up for an impromptu slide he told us he was a goat mountain.


on a somewhat related note to self. never will i purchase a couch, love seat or chair with removable cushions.

repeat after me

when naming a child make sure you say the name out loud 13,735,297 times in one hour. to make sure you still like it afterward. we sure didn't.

you following me

if you follow this blog and you admit to it please sign up as a follower. it's easy. and it's free. just go under my about me section on the left and click the link follow. big, white box with black letters. i think it just asks for an email address and a password. and a photo. if you choose. i don't think they send you any spam. just an email each time i post a new entry. but i have only heard rumors about that one. and maybe you would consider that spam. plus, it allows you to make comments. if you want. i'm just saying.

half-assed

driving miss crazy, part tres and a half

so, moho got caught up one night a few months ago watching some township council meeting. she thought it was taped. she continued to watch. going on a few hours. her husband headed up to bed as she continued to be glued to the tv. before she realized it the council meeting was actually live. and it was going to keep going until the issue at hand was resolved. i believe the issue was a recall of some crooked township board members. and an unjust firing. shocker. now moho is passionate. very passionate. so passionate she drove herself down to the township hall. stood in line. and voiced her opinion. at 3 am. without anyone knowing. or so she thought. her husband didn't even know she did it until later the next day. she pointed her finger to all of the board and called them cowards and indicated that she was really angry. so angry she came down there with no makeup on. and it all played out on live tv. and so, the reason she looked familiar to the firemen is because she was on tv defending the township. and their rights. he recognized her even with makeup. now, if you recall, moho has tried to kill me. at least three times. and now four. you know the pears we canned, right. we must have sat there for hours peeling and slicing that saturday night. into the wee morning hours. and then again sunday morning. to finish them up. she called me today. and said throw them out. apparently, they were all bad. her lids were bulging. and they smelled bad. all rotten. at least she called to tell me. this time. so, if you are ever in the detroit area. just follow the smoke. the township recall signs. and the car with the bumper sticker that reads real men burn wood. and you will find moho.

yawn

you did. didn't you?

driving miss crazy, part tres

late this summer i drove to moho's house to drop off all of will's clothes. as i mentioned before i was more than happy to do so. she and her husband live on a lake near detroit. this is an important tidbit. i got to her house on saturday morning. we had planned to go to ikea and then after that was anyone's guess. that weekend also happened to be a weekend where her mom was in the area recovering from knee replacement surgery. and near where she was staying was also one of her sister's house. after ikea we went and visited moho's mom. it was great to see her again. i hadn't seen her since high school. she was doing fantastically well with her recovery. after we visited with her awhile it was off to moho's sister's house. she lives on a lake as well. a different one. we chatted and off we were again. on the way home moho mentioned we could take a boat ride. bonus. except for the part where she called her husband on the way home and asked how to get it started. you see, their pontoon boat was not available so that left the ski boat. she really hadn't had any experience starting and driving the ski boat. let us backup. first of all, i was scared to death to even be riding with her in a car in the first place. second of all, there was no way in hell i was getting in a boat with her driving. period. just as i started to laugh and tell her hell to the no at the thought of even taking the boat out she hangs up the phone. she says if that (asking her husband how to start the boat) doesn't get him home in a hurry i don't know what will. total relief. what happens next would only happen to moho. and i can't give you the whole story. but i will try. they have crazy neighbors. they call the cops on them. they call the fire department on them. for burning. burning a fire in the fireplace. burning a fire in their fire pit. they are totally legal. the neighbor says they have caused her emphysema. because i am sure they are the only ones in five years to burn wood in their neighborhood. so they have a fire in their fireplace every time it is the least bit cold. and they have a fire in their firepit at every moment possible. and let's face it. wouldn't we all. we got home from her sister's and moho was showing me some of her remodeling pictures. the doorbell rings. we were in no hurry to answer it. until we turned around and there was a firetruck at her driveway. needless to say moho was a little bit excited. the firemen said someone called about an illegal fire. well, this is funny. moho didn't even have a fire. in the fireplace. or fire pit. it was the neighbor on the other side of her. so, the firemen go out back and she starts to give a little background on the situation. and one of the firefighters says to her that she looks familiar. well, of course she does. because she is famous. or infamous. we aren't sure yet just which one. more on this later. the firemen determine that there is nothing illegal. they have her sign a waiver and off they go. with the police. over to the crazy neighbor. and hopefully tell her to knock it off or she is going to start to get charged for this nonsense. and you know what moho did. the minute they left she had the neighbor that was having a fire in their fire pit start one in hers. and then it was a night in canning pears. oh yeah. there's more to that story too.

a new bff

friday morning we went outside to play. nothing unusual. until i discovered a woolly worm crawling across the woodchips. oh, this ought to be good. i drew the kids' attention to the woolly worm. after all, it was one of my favorites growing up. and, let's face it, they beat bigfoot. after repeated warnings not to touch, jab with a stick or step on the woolly worm i thought they had gotten the message. sophie was most interested in smooshing it. will was most interested in talking to it. i don't think he took one breath while talking to his newest bff. a whirly worm as he likes to call it.

will: hi, my name is will and this is sophie and this is my mommy. are you my new friend? i can share with you. i have a stroller, a wagon and a bike. do you like my shoes? they're new. where's he going? what's his mommy doing?

me: i think he is going home.

will: he's going home? is his mommy making mac and cheese?

(i don't know where will gets the mac and cheese thing. i don't cook it that often. and he doesn't even eat it anyway.)

not five minutes later his newest bff was dead. he stepped on him. will forgot to watch where he was going.

will: where did i step on him?

me: all over.

the myth. the legend.

i am not afraid to admit that i was once scared of bigfoot. to the point i was paralyzed with fear at the mere mention of his name. it didn't help that debbie, one of the neighbor kids, reminded me several times that we lived in front of the woods. and that's where bigfoot lives. the woods. hell, she was probably the one who told me about bigfoot in the first place. i had nighmares about bigfoot. in 1980, we travelled to the seattle area to watch the mcardle softball team play in the world tournament. my parents neglected to inform me that the seattle area is prime bigfoot spotting country. it's a good thing. i would not have gone with them. it was bad enough i had to fly there. in an airplane. and add bigfoot on top of that. i still can remember seeing huge banners advertising that bigfoot had been spotted here. fast-forward about sixteen years. i was in college. at central michigan university. i had transferred from ferris. i think i was on the six year plan. anyway, i met up with some nice girls and we lived in chip village. now, chip village wasn't a normal apartment building. they were three story condos but the units were connected on their sides. i think there were four banks of ten units. each unit had the living space and kitchen on the first floor and then the second floor had three bedrooms and the third floor had the remaining two bedrooms. anyway, during the summers, roommates would go back home and some would stay. the ones that left usually had to sublet their rooms so they weren't paying rent while they were away. the first summer i was there someone was renting their room out to a hua huang. she was the one that had a girl call all frantic because hua bought a car from her. it wasn't that she bought the car. it was the fact the cashier's check was made out as $13.50. not $1,350. so, you get that she is asian. during the same summer, i woke up in the middle of the night one night. i had to go pee. and ever since i was little i always turned the light on before i went back in my bedroom after going pee. always. you know, to make sure bigfoot wasn't there. this particular night on my way back from the bathroom i decided i would not turn the light on. i was twenty-two years old and i no longer needed to turn the light on. as i got into bed and pulled the covers over my head i felt fur. i felt fur across my face. no sooner did i pull the covers up, i pulled them back off and ran for the lights. there, in my bed was an effing cat. we did not have a cat. my bedroom was on the second floor. i cannot tell you how fast my heart was beating. but i almost had a heart attack. my window was not open. i had no idea how in the hell that cat got into my room. and furthermore, how i could have picked that very night to not turn the light back on in my bedroom. after i made sure there was an actual cat in my room i went downstairs. and there by the door was an animal carrier. with a sticker that read 'live animal'. i immediately came to the disgusted conclusion that yes, they do, in fact, eat cats. i went back upstairs to my bedroom. i was wondering how hua huang was going to kill this thing. and eat it for her next meal. when i went downstairs later that morning one of my other roommates was on the couch. she was sitting there. with that effing cat. it was her boyfriend's cat that was staying the weekend. after that night i have never again turned the light on. amazingly.

the tangled web she weaves

the man in the moon, continued

tuesday night my husband came home from work. and tells the kids there is a big moon. we can't see it from our backyard. so we walk to the end of the street. will wants to hold it. and he gets mad that we can't go touch it. we finally persuade will to come back home. and by the time we get there he will be able to see the moon from inside his bedroom.

will (looking out his window. looking up at the moon): look at the moon! he's taller than me! he's taller than daddy. it's a harvest moon!

the man in the moon

monday night will was eating a late dinner. i was looking for the moon. and this was the conversation.

will: where's the moon?

husband: it's up there (pointing out the window).

will: you can even see him in the dark!

husband: now it's going behind the clouds.

will: there he goes. he's playing hide and seek.

husband: it's out again.

will: there he goes again. he's going to his house. he's must be tired. it's time for him to go night, night. in his new house.

husband: his new house?

will: yeah. where's mommy moon? she's cooking mac and cheese for him.

husband: oh, that's good, huh?

will: uh, huh.

will: he's tired. it's time for him to go to bed. where's his blanket?

will finished the conversation by singing rock-a-bye baby to the moon.

priceless.

we'll be back

with more great shtuff. damn. i miss the gong show. when it came on my dad, sister and i would watch it. every. time. my mom would go and hide in our little bathroom. with a book. she still can't stand the thought of it.

birds of a feather

this summer we grilled out. a lot. one of the times my husband walked in from the patio and announced that the chicken was done. sophie yelled, 'woof! woof!' well, at least she knew it made a noise.

slam dunk

gran comes up with some great ideas. this one. not so much. we had added a piece of furniture to will's room this weekend which prompted us to move some other items around. my mom suggested something she saw in a magazine article once. i thought it was an awesome idea. a woman had three boys and their clothes never ended up in the dirty laundry basket. her solution was to hang a basketball hoop on the wall and place the laundry basket underneath. she never had to pick up dirty laundry off the floor again. brilliant. until yesterday. we put will's laundry basket underneath his basketball hoop. we took out some dirty laundry and showed him how to throw them through the hoop. he had a great time. he laughed and laughed. later, it was time for a nap. and this is what we found when we opened his door. will had no pants on. because they were on their way into the laundry basket. not so brilliant after all.