This has to be "Against the Rules"... (a rant)

I was at the grocery store last night picking up a few items. While browsing through the produce section, there was a big table thing full of fresh corn on the cob, still in the husks. They were priced by the pound, not by the ear. Standing at this display, was an woman and her daughter, shucking the corn and placing the cleaned ears in the plastic bags.

Ok, there must be something that's just not right about this. I mean, you don't go in and peel the bananas or oranges before buying them. You don't shell the pecans that are sold in the shell before buying them. Why would anyone think it was ok to shuck the corn before buying it?

To top it all off, there was a trash can right next to the display. Where did they put all of the husks and silk? On the floor between the display and the trash can. It's amazing the gall some people seem to have.

It could be pointed out that these folks were not Caucasian. They were of a nationality that is commonly deemed to be brighter and perhaps harder working than the average American. I guess smarts and class are not always mutually inclusive.

Back Home...

After a weekend with family, we are happy to be home again. This was a pretty good weekend. Matthew had a great time climbing all over Grandaddy, and Grandaddy seemed to enjoy playing with Matthew. It's good to see them interract like that.

I'm happy to report that Grandaddy's buffet restaurant was as good as he told us it was. All of the food was fresh and tasty. They had just about anything you wanted as long as it was fried, along with the usual assortment of vegetables you would expect in that part of the country (peas, turnip greens, okra, lima beans, etc, etc). I also had hot water cornbread for the first time since college. I need to learn how to make that stuff. Dang, it was good.

About that family reunion... I need to be very careful about what I say. My Dad let on that he found my blog (Thanks alot, Staci). We had a good time at the reunion. The food was good, and the people were nice. Of course, you have the usual group of old people that seem to have nothing else to talk about but their ailments. I heard about back pain, leg pain, arthritis, etc. One of the men kept telling us he was losing his memory. I guess he didn't remember that he had already told us... While it is good to see all of these folks again, it is sort of sad to see them in such bad physical shape, and obviously not enjoying themselves anymore.

Redneck formal attire...

After we left the restaurant tonight and were back on the highway, Shelly commented on the attire of one of the other patrons. It was a sort of large guy wearing denim overalls. She noted that it seems that every time she sees a middle aged or so person with a big belly wearing overalls, that the side buttons are never fastened.

This, my friends, does not sit well with Shelly. She mentioned that it was almost like pure laziness. Then she made a comparison that made me almost run off the road from laughing. She said that overalls were almost like onesies for bubba's.

I'll never be able to see another guy in overalls again and not laugh

Bad Food...

After work today, we loaded up the truck and hit the highway for Grandpa's house. It was about dinner time, so we were looking for a place to eat. Shelly saw a sign for a restaurant called "The Hot Biscuit", and wanted to try it. The place seemed ok, maybe a little dated on the interior, but fine for a small town that is basically just a whistle stop on the highway.

They had a buffet for Friday night that seemed to include some of just about everything on the menu for $6.99. Given that most items on the menu were about that price, we decided for the buffet. We should have opted for the usual fast food meal ordered through a speaker and delivered through the car window.

This place was complete CRAP. To top it off, I got a piece of what I thought was smothered steak. One bite, and I knew I had made a terrible mistake. It was LIVER. I thought I was going to have to lick the sole of my shoe to get that awful taste out of my mouth.

I am convinced that if you find a small town in the Southeast and serve large quantities of food at low prices, the quality of the food is irrelevant. People will come because it is cheap and lots of it. There was a restaurant full of oversized Bubba's (and Bertha's) loading up on this crap like there was no tomorrow. I give it a negative 1 out of 5 stars. It would have been worse than that, but their sweet tea was freshly made and just right.

Note to Katie, I know I said last week that sweet tea covers a multitude of sins, but that was before we found this place.

God, I hope that place Granddaddy wants to go tomorrow is better than this.

Family Reunion...

Going to a family reunion this weekend. It's in Jasper, TX. Need I say more?

I think this might be one of those deals where I see some of the same distant relatives I saw at another reunion for another side of the family. In that part of the country, family trees have more trunks than limbs...

We'll follow that up by taking my grandfather to his favorite restaurant. It's in some small town on the north side of Lake Sam Rayburn. Not sure where, but it has a seafood buffet and live country music on Saturday nights. I think it costs something like $3 each for dinner. I'm expecting something along the lines of the buffet Eddie took Clark to in "Vegas Vacation"

Anyone else have weekend plans that can compare?

Birthday Parties...

I hate going to kids birthday parties, but as a parent it's something that is part of the deal. Next weekend we are having a party for Matthew's 3rd birthday. His birthday was actually last week, but his cousin's on Shelly's side were out of town last weekend, and the ones on my side are out this weekend. So, next weekend it is.

The last 2 years, we have tried for low key, mostly family type deals. The first year we had 35 or so people in my house. Last year, my parents hosted 25 or so people. These are just relatives, not even Matthew's daycare buddies.

This year, we are inviting all of the other little kids. God only knows how many will be there, but we rented out the play room deal at our church and will have an inflatable for them to jump in. Throw in some party favors and pizza for the crowd, and I've just dropped $400 or so smackers. Am I the only one that thinks that's a pile of money for a kid's party? Well, at least that crowd isn't coming to my house.

If we have a second child, I hope the birthdays are close so we can combine parties.

Dreaming of Omelette's...

Sunday morning was a morning to sleep in at my house. The yard had been done on Saturday, we were ok on laundry, and the house was fairly clean. Besides, it was raining outside.

Around 10:00, Shelly and Matthew headed downstairs. I laid in bed watching TV for a little while longer. When I went downstairs, I was getting pretty hungry. I knew from the sounds coming out of the kitchen that something was being cooked. It turns out that Shelly was making cheesy eggs and toast (cinnamon toast). Of course, since I stayed in bed a little longer than them, The breakfast that was made wasn't for me. I was on my own.

For many men, this would cause a problem. It's not a problem for me. I like to eat, and fortunately, I also like to cook. Even better, I find my cooking to be quite tasty. After a quick survey of the available ingredients, I set to work. I diced up some smoked deer sausage and browned in the skillet with some chopped sweet (yellow) onion. While that was working it's magic, I beat 3 eggs with some salt, pepper, and a little milk. It's important to beat them into a froth so the omelet comes out a little fluffier (maybe, maybe not, but it sounds good anyway). Start the omelet in the skillet and when the egg starts to set, add the sausage, caramelized onions, and some grated cheese. Serve with a few pieces of toast, and you are set (not in a pop-up toaster, butter it and toast it under the broiler). To use a southern phrase, "So good, it makes you want to slap yo Mama."

Bragging a little, aren't we? You betcha. I do have to be a little careful, though, I only have 4 or 5 packages of deer sausage left, and deer season is still 4 months away.

Pigeons...

Man, I hate pigeons. In this town, they are all over the place. A couple of weeks ago, we put up a bird feeder. In the last week, the birds seem to have found it. We have about 20 doves back there at all times, with just about as many sparrows. We also have one pair of cardinals.

Well, the dregs of the bird community showed up today. A pigeon was back there eating and chasing the other birds off. So, I got rid of him the only way I could think of that would keep him from coming back later (and telling his buddies about this place).... He succumbed to lead poisoning.

Clean truck...

Anyone reading for any length of time probably has an idea that I enjoy working on our vehicles. I have a vast assortment of tools, and like using them. One thing I don't like so much is cleaning the trucks.

Within a few minutes of both the office and our house, we have good car washes that do exterior only washes. I'm not talking the deal where you put a couple of bucks in, pull in and stop while the wash goes back and forth. I'm talking the pull in, food off the brake, car in neutral, and it runs you through the tunnel with the cloth deals, rinses, dries, and spits you out the other end. As a result, both trucks are usually presentable - on the outside.

Well, last weekend, I rode with the bro-in-law in his Tahoe. He bought his a couple of months after we got ours. They are both the same interior color, so the interiors are almost identical (mine has a sunroof, his is 4wd). Anyway, his was immaculately clean. No dist, no trash on the floorboards, and the cup holders were even spotless. Well, I was ashamed at how bad I had let my truck get.

This morning I hit the local Auto Zone and picked up a few supplies, then stopped by the car wash on the way home. After the exterior was cleaned, I hit the free vacuums and cleaned the floors of everything that would come up. Once I was home, I shampooed the carpets, put leather cleaner / conditioner on all of the seats, cleaned all of the other plastic and vinyl surfaces (dash, door panels, console, etc). After doing that, I put the shiny stuff on the tires and the black trim on the front and rear bumpers. I even pulled the floor mats out and cleaned them with soap & water. And yes, the cup holders are free of random debris and are spotless. It does look good.

Shelly has informed me that her truck is getting done next weekend. Her Expedition is the "Mommy Car", so that's a big job. There are probably 20 lbs of cheerios stashed around in the various nooks and crannies in that truck.

One other thing... You know that 3rd brake light that all vehicles come with? The one on my Tahoe is right above the rear window. About 2 years ago, it crapped out on me. Simple enough, right? Wrong. I took it off of the truck to see about replacing the bulb(s) in it, only to figure out that it is a series of a bunch of LED lights. You can't replace the bulbs, you have to replace the whole light. No big deal, unscrew 2 screws, unplug the deal, and put the new one on. Yes, it's that simple, but the new ones are a dealer only item, and they are over $150. Too rich for my blood. They keep inspecting it each year, so it's been burned out for a while.

Well, I was perusing Craigslist the other day and hit pay dirt. $20 later, I'm back in business. That's a good deal, but I don't understand why Chevrolet had to get all fancy with the LED lights when they could have put in a deal that takes standard tail light bulbs. I could have fixed it 2 years ago for about $1.

I might strut all the way to work tomorrow. The truck is clean, and all lights once again are working.

Selling of information... (a rant)

Ok, we opened the mail today and received another package. It was baby formula. A free sample. We've received several similar samples and literature that would indicate an impending arrival of an addition to our family. We have no new arrivals to announce.

We started 2007 by sharing good news with all of our friends and family. On New Year's day, we made the rounds of both of our families and told them we were expecting an August arrival. Within a week, we were in the emergency room in the middle of the night looking at an ultrasound with a little peanut shape but no heartbeat. It was devastating to say the least. I'll not go into details about procedures my wife had to endure, but it was not a fun couple of weeks. A couple of months later, we had good news again, followed by another heartbreak.

Why am I sharing this? It's just because I'm sort of pissed off about the whole deal. It's obvious that the hospital or doctor provided information about our anticipated arrival to someone who has passed it along to whoever keeps sending this stuff to our house. The middle of August is going to be hard enough without having to be reminded of loss each time we open the mailbox. It just seems to me that it is a little insensitive for someone in the medical field to share your personal information. Isn't that sort of thing part of some privacy act? I can't think of anyone else that would have had that information to share with these people sending formula and diaper samples to our house.

Bad parents, rotten kids... (a rant)

ok, first I'll have to say that we're not perfect parents, and Matthew is not a perfect child, but there are a few things that really bug me, and thankfully we've managed to avoid these issues (for the most part)

Unruly kids in restaurants.

We tend to eat out a couple of times per week. Matthew is quite capable of handling the restaurant scene without making a scene, and I don't consider that to be an accident. First off, Matthew sits in a high chair or a booster chair EVERY TIME he eats a meal. I'm not talking the booster chair that gives him a little lift, I'm talking the portable high chair deals that strap to a regular dining chair and have a belt made into them to keep him confined. He is belted / strapped in each time WITHOUT FAIL. Keeping him in one place accomplished several objectives. 1. It makes our evening more enjoyable since we don't have to fight to keep him at the table. 2. He tends to eat better when his mobility options are limited, and 3. Others around us are able to enjoy their meals without a kid running wild. We have purchased 3 of the portable booster / high chairs. One stays at a Shelly's parent's house, one at the ranch, and one in the truck so we always have it available. It's something he is used to now. He actually buckles the belt himself (even though he can't yet get it unbuckled himself)

I know many people that either don't put their kids in high chairs, or don't strap them in because they complain. It's all about conditioning. Matthew used to complain on occasion about going into the high chair. We found that if you ignore the protests and proceed without responding to them, the protest will last about 10 seconds, usually less. Now it's something he expects. Early on, Matthew had 2 options at a restaurant - buckled in his high chair (behaving properly), or buckled in his car seat in the truck - with no toys or dvd to watch. He was not allowed to sit in our laps (because they are NEVER satisfied with that for more than about 30 seconds before they want down to wander). He was also not going to pitch a fit and disturb others around us.

Only once in 3 years have we ever had to ask for our food to go. In that instance, Shelly took him to the truck and I waited in the restaurant for the server to box it up for us (it was at Johnny Carino's). One other time, I was about finished with my dinner and I took him out to the truck while Shelly finished her food and paid. Both times there were meaningful repercussions and we have not had a repeat episode. To be fair, there are some times that it's unfair to take him into a setting like that. If he's tired, not feeling well, has missed a nap, or whatever the reason, you don't take a cranky kid out to a place that they have to sit still for 45 minutes or so. They can behave, but they are still kids. Restaurants have take out for a reason (or cook at home).

I'm a parent, but I'll be damned if my kid is going to cause someone else not to enjoy their evening. I resent it when someone else doesn't control their kids and it makes me enjoy my evening less. Either control your kids, or get take-out and feed them at home.

Car seats.

What is it with all of the people riding around with their kids and no car seats? We spent good money buying car seats for Matthew. When he is in the car, he is buckled in. It's not an option. I think we may be a little anal about it, but it's important to us to make sure he is safe. We make sure that the seats are in TIGHT, properly buckled and tethered in the vehicle, and the straps holding him in are snug and properly adjusted. He's our only kid, and we have quite a bit of time, money, effort, and dreams invested in him. It would be a shame to squander that by not taking steps to properly protect him. You would think all parents would think the same way, but obviously not.

About 6 months ago, Matthew figured out how to unbuckle the car seat that was in my truck. He did it exactly twice. Once was in a parking lot. Consequences were explained to him if it happened again. That same day, he unbuckled himself while I was driving 70mph down the local toll road. I hit the next exit and consequences were administered swiftly (an immediate consequence as well as another once we got home to allow him to think about it). It has not happened again. Now, on occasion, he will ask permission to unbuckle after I turn off the engine, and he will wait until permission is granted.

This, like the restaurant deal above is about consistency. If it is ALWAYS done like that, it is expected. They no of no other options, so they don't expect another option.

Beard Trimmers...

I'm starting to get used to this facial hair deal. Shelly still doesn't really like it, but she hasn't made me shave it yet. Emphasis on yet. I got it trimmed when I had a haircut last week, and it was needing to be trimmed up again. Instead of having to go to the haircut joint, I stopped in Wal-Mart and picked up an electric trimmer. They had several to choose from, but Paul Harvey always swore Wahl was the best, so I bought one of theirs. It must be good since it had a 5 yr warranty, 30 day unconditional guarantee, and a snag free guarantee. All for only $24.95

I charged that baby up and turned it loose on my chin this evening. Snag free, my BUTT. Man, that crap HURT. I think it forcibly yanked more whiskers out by the roots than it trimmed. Next time I see Paul Harvey... He won't think it's such a good day.

I'll be hitting Wal-Mart tomorrow for a refund.

This reminds me of a story about Tommy from a few years ago. He was living in New Orleans. He had moved into an apartment and didn't have a vacuum cleaner. Every couple of weeks, he would head down to Wal-Mart and buy the most expensive vacuum cleaner they had, vacuum his apartment, then return it. No questions asked. I think he did that until he married Joanna and they got a vacuum cleaner as a wedding gift.

Road Rage - Almost...

Yesterday I came home from work, let Sweetie out, then headed to town to meet up with Shelly. As I go to leave the neighborhood, I come to a 4 way stop. I need to turn right. The Escalade facing me turns left, then I turn right (now heading the same direction as the Escalade). The VW that had been behind the Escalade proceeds to go, almost hitting me in the rear quarter, sort of crowding me in the intersection. Then the woman driving proceeds to ride my BUTT.

Well, anyone that knows me, knows that I don't exactly drive Miss Daisy. I tend to scoot along when I'm driving. This chick is following so close that I can just see the top of her head and the roof of her car in my rear view. Of course, I did what anyone else would have done. I applied a little of the left pedal to get her to back off. Well, it turns out that that is a good way to piss off an African American woman. After she picked her crap off of her floorboard, she came zooming by me (2 lane road going around a curve). Not wishing to escalate any further, I braked and moved over to the right to give her plenty of room, and the Beeyotch swerved towards me, barely missing the left front of my truck. I guess she thought it would be fun to try to buzz me.

We come to a stop sign, another 4-way intersection. I stop about 20 feet behind her to give plenty of maneuver room in case she gets out of the car. And she just sits there, watching me in the mirror. For 15-20 seconds she sits there. I know she wanted me to try to try to go around her so we could really get into an altercation, but I just waited. Hey, I was in no hurry. Well, I guess she figured I wasn't going to engage, so she gave me the finger and then took off.

I guess the next time that happens, I'll just let off the gas and let the person go around without tapping the brakes. No sense in getting into a rough spot. While this blogger is generally quite well equipped to defend himself, the other person might be better armed. Regardless, no use getting engaged in a situation that is avoidable to begin with

Man, this is getting good...

Wow, this dude is going to be in BIG trouble. Yesterday when I got home there was a message on the home machine from a detective with the auto theft division in another suburb. We traded a few voice mails and finally talked this morning. Nothing much, other than he wanted to hear first hand what I saw over the weekend. Well, a couple of hours later, this detective is in my office interviewing me, getting a disk of the photos I took, and showing me a photo line-up. I didn't think I could pick out the guy, and the photo line-up proved that I couldn't.

I hope I don't come across as racist, but people of other races seem to look similar to me until I get to know the particular individual. Not ALL of them, just many of them. What I mean is that this guy was a clean-cut Hispanic guy. No distinguishing features like crazy tattoos, facial piercings, or purple hair. Just an average looking guy.

I wonder what will happen next with this case?

What an IDIOT... (part 2)

I reported earlier about the truck I heard crash in the construction project behind the house. Well, the truck stayed there all night last night and all day today. At 4:15, I got in the shower to get ready for church. I looked out the window and the truck was still there. When we left for church at 4:45, it was gone. We wondered to each other how the guy was going to explain what happened. We didn't have to wonder for long...

Driving down our street, the front grill of the truck was laying in the middle of the street. A little further through the neighborhood, there was the truck, sitting in the middle of the street - abandoned. Lovely. It appears that my suspicions yesterday might be playing themselves out (why do you think I took the photos...) Being an insurance guy, you think this sort of thing.

Well, I called the Sheriff's department, and the deputy that normally patrols our neighborhood comes within 5 minutes. I like this guy. I make it a point to stop and talk to him when I see him out and about. Of course, my suspicions are correct. The guy reported the truck stolen last night, about 2 hours after he wrecked it. He apparently moved it this afternoon so it wouldn't be at his job site tomorrow morning when the bosses get there. The Sheriff's deputy wasn't amused with this guy's resourcefulness.

The deputy went to the job site and noted where the truck crashed yesterday (paint on the wall, pieces of the headlights on the ground) to verify what I said I saw. He's going to come by tomorrow and collect a disk with the photos I took of the truck crashed at the job site. He asked me if I could pick the guy out of a lineup. Unfortunately, I don't think I could.

As a consequence of doing the "right thing", my family is now on a sort of elevated alert status. We'll likely be doing a "drive by" at our house before pulling in to make sure it is safe and no one waiting to bother us. When parking in the garage, we'll close the door before unlocking the doors and getting out of the truck. We'll also be in the truck with the doors locked before opening the door to leave. It's a shame that you have to worry about possible reprisals from being an honest citizen and reporting crime when you see it.

Birthday Party...

We took Matthew to a birthday party yesterday. They had it at the local children's museum, so it was a pretty neat deal. Matthew's favorite deal was "the bus". It was an old VW bus. I think Matthew liked it so much because he has a toy VW bus with the same colors.

It was in a section of the museum set up to look like a Mexican village.

Here are a couple of pics of us "cruising the village"

What an IDIOT...

Yesterday afternoon Matthew and I were playing in the living room when I heard a large BOOM followed by a constant car horn. I looked out the back window and saw that one of the workers at the construction site behind us had crashed his truck. They cleared out after a little while, and I went and snapped a couple of pics

Basically, the corner of the wall he ran into is at the top of the ramp leading up into the building. These guys were goofing off inside this big warehouse building and this guy screwed up and wrecked a perfectly good truck.

I ran back to make sure everyone was ok, and the guy said "I was playing and Boom".

I wonder how he will explain this to the insurance agent (or his wife).

Head Shrinker and no pics...

I was looking around for the little cord that plugs my camera into the computer. It seems that I have misplaced it, so I can't post the pics I wanted to post tonight. Hopefully I'll find it tomorrow morning.

I was thinking back to my days in Jr High and early High School. There are some crazy times there. To completely get this story, you have to have an idea of what my family was like, especially my mother. I'll try to give a little bit of a picture.

My mother was always a stay at home mom. We were pretty much her life. Most mornings, she cooked a hot breakfast before we went to school. All of our clothes were ironed. ALL of them. Well, the underwear wasn't, but the rest of them were. I used to HATE that. I remember in elementary school having jeans so creased, the crease was a faded line down the middle of each leg. My mother believed that we were a reflection of her, and by God, she was going to look better than any other mother in town. That's where some of the problems started.

We wore nice clothes. Shirts were tucked in, a belt was always worn, socks matched, and shoes were never scuffed up. Well, around 7th or 8th grade, the styles changed a little. Guys didn't always wear shirts tucked in. If you did tuck the shirt in, you sure as hell didn't wear a belt. Belts were for dress slacks, otherwise you were a DORK. Socks were ok with tennis shoes, but the style was topsiders with no socks. Sperry topsiders. Oh, and you tight rolled your pants.

The "style" horrified my mother. It was so bad that she was convinced I was rebelling. Keep in mind that we were the typical Southern Baptist family in the South. No liquor in the house, and in church Sunday morning, Sunday night, and Wednesday night. I also went to youth group one night a week. Most of my friends were friends that went to church with me. Our church was pretty large. It was big enough to have a counselor on staff. In late Jr High, my parents and I had a few sessions with this counselor to work on my "rebellion" I never saw the point in any of this. To me it was a huge waste of time, and if anything, it caused more rebellion (not that there was any to begin with). Typically, the sessions involved my parents meeting separately with the counselor and them me meeting with him alone. I never knew what was said in their session - until just a couple of years ago. My Dad finally told me, and it was hilarious. It was obvious that he went along with it to pacify my mom.

According to Dad, the counselor started by asking what we were there for. My mom told him Everything. She told him it was because I was being rebellious. When he asked for more, she told him I wouldn't wear a belt, tuck my shirt in, or wear socks. She was tired of me always looking so slovenly. Yes, that's the word she used. Keep in mind my clothes were always clean and immaculately pressed and my hair was regulation short, above the ears and collar. The counselor asked if I was skipping school. Nope. Does he hang out with the wrong crowd? Nope, all friends are friends from church (we were all VERY straight-laced). Any drinking? Nope. Any smoking? Nope. Any drugs? Nope. You see where this is going...

The counselor happened to have 3 sons, at least one of which had some or all of the problems mentioned above. He would probably kill for a kid like me. Well, apparently that guy didn't straighten me out, and I saw at least one more shrink during that time.

I guess it must have done some good. I still don't drink much (of course I blame that clock incident more than anything else), have never smoked (I always thought it was nasty), never tried drugs of any sort (never any desire), and most of my friends today are either from church or they are the ones I had back in the youth group days (Katie and Tommy that I've mentioned here several times). On second thought, it was a waste of time and money. Perhaps my parents being good role models was what caused me to turn out ok, despite the lack of socks or a belt.

What was the picture about? Well, I still enjoy giving my mother hell. She hates facial hair as well as the previous mentioned wardrobe issues. The last time I saw her, I was wearing my shirt untucked (straight-hem button down, neatly pressed), no socks (sandals), and a mustache / goatee (neatly trimmed). I also got my previously mentioned SHORT hairdo trimmed up. She was NOT impressed.

Man, it sure is fun when you can jack with the parents. And, I guess it's a compliment to them that the worst thing you do is show up with facial hair and a shirt untucked.

The jig is up...

This week my parents are doing what all grandparents do on occasion. They are keeping Matthew for a few days, basically spoiling him rotten. Well, tonight my Mom called me. Apparently Matthew let one go (that's a polite way to say he farted). Being the polite sort, my mom said "Matthew, what do we say when we toot?" "IMPRESSIVE!!" was his reply. Heh, heh, heh, That's my boy. Well, she then told him that the correct answer was "Excuse me", to which he said "No, Nani, Impressive!!"

Well, she worked with him a little bit, and supposedly got him to say "excuse me". Then she called me and put Matthew on the phone. She said "Tell Daddy what we say", and he said "Impressive!!" Haha. I heard her in the background saying "NO", but Matthew just laughed and repeated "Impressive". Yep, that's my boy.

I do have to say that my mother is pretty persistent. By the time I get him back tomorrow night, She will probably have ruined the joke and have him saying "excuse me". Oh, well. I guess he needs to learn it sooner or later.

That's my boy...

When bro-in-law came over today, he brought the family with him. They have a son a couple of months older than Matthew, and they are best buds. They also have a son a couple of months old. After they ate their lunch, the boys went swimming in the kiddie pool on our back patio. At one point, they were both running around in the back yard, buck naked. They were having a ball. I was watching as Matthew stopped running, stood with his feet pretty far apart, and peed in the yard. Hey, that's a joy of being a boy.

I went back out into the garage to pick up the tools after the brake job, and I heard bro-in-law laughing inside. He came out and told me the news. Matthew had pooped in the back yard. Ok, not a big deal, right? WRONG. A 3 yr old lacks the finesse to poop outside. He had walked, and was dropping crap behind him, getting it all on the backs of his legs, and he walked onto the patio, getting some on the patio. I'll say Shelly deserves a medal after all of the cleaning up after him that she does. Now the thought, you can't get mad at him since he has been taught that whizzing outside is an option, if that's the case, pooping outside must be ok too. Hey, as long as it's not in the house.