The Longest of Ever

Here's a little "slice of life" post- just a funny moment from a day. I was sitting at the computer, typing away at something. The house was quiet- so nice and quiet since the boys went back to school! Liam had been minding his own business for the last hour or so when I heard him call me.
"Hey Mom! Come here!" This could only mean one thing, he'd built something he wanted to show me. If he needed something from me, it would sound a lot different from that. The curious thing was, I could tell by the echo he was in the bathroom.
"Come see mom! It's the longest of EVER!" Who can resist that?
I hurried to his location, and found him on the toilet- where he had, indeed, made something he wanted to show me.
Can I just say something? He's four. It was at least 14 inches long. How is that possible? How do they DO that?
There you go- a slice of life. It's just as if you were standing beside me in the bathroom, isn't it?

My Dirty Secret

I have to confess something- get it off my chest.
First of all, am I the only one out there who hates elementary school reading slips? I loathe having to fill out how many minutes my kid read EVERY SINGLE DAY. If my second grader is home sick, he gets TWO reading slips sent home, and they better BOTH be filled out or he has some terrible punishment like missed recess. If he reads for six hours one day, is he clear for the rest of the week? No. He's still expected to read 20 minutes every day, and I still have to sign the dang slip.
So what's my dirty little secret? (smirk) I cheat. I turn on the closed captioning on my TV and let my kid watch a movie. We just finished watching the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy! That's like- 10 hours, baby! They all read every word of dialogue, but they don't even register that it's reading. Mua ha ha ha!

The Clown Family goes to Church

It was the first Sunday of the year, and the time changed for our meetings from a brisk and early 9 to a languid and relaxed 11. I'd been looking forward to the change for months. But instead of a peaceful sabbath morning of church preparation, I ended up in Sunday Hell.
Because of massive renovations and the holidays, the regular laundry routine has been disrupted. There is literally no place to put the clean clothes. Don't tell me to just fold the load from the dryer. I spit upon that idea. Pt. Pt. (spitting)
So Sunday morning, all the little boys were bathed and squeaky clean with no clothes. Literally. As in, no clean underwear, white shirts, pants matching socks, or shoes. The place where the church clothes are stored wasn't even there. Where were they? It's a mystery.
By the time I made it to church, I was fuming. I stalked in late to Sacrament meeting, and where was Lewis? In the front row, naturally. No subtlety there. We had to put on an obscene fashion show, making our way to the front of the chapel.
As we sat down, I looked down the row, and had to stifle maniacal laughter.
Dainon was wearing some old men's wool trousers of mine that I had stored in the back of the van to go to Goodwill. It was a miracle that I found them! They were 3 inches too big in the waist, and two inches too long, so they were cinched with a belt. He had on a white dress shirt of Lewis', with billows around his wrists, and a sweater vest of Lewis' to camouflage the pants and shirt.
Kelton was wearing pants too big for him with no button on the waist. He wore a wrinkled white shirt with no top button and an adult men's tie with a knot as big as my fist. He wore a torn, hand-me-down jacket, white ankle socks and tennis shoes to complete the effect.
Dallin was by far ahead- he at least had dress shoes on, but not matching socks. They were visible because his pants were a good two inches too short. His shirt was too long, squeezing out from under a too-small blazer.
My boys seemed to be wearing every single item in the mending- dregs pile of Church clothes. All at the same time.
We were Klassy, man. Klassy.

Classic Dainon

I found my oldest son munching on my favorite tortilla chips and sour cream. I decided it was my turn to enjoy some before the bag was empty, so I excercised my rights as mother and confiscated them both. When he protested, I told him that I could have whatever I wanted as payback for all the nights I stayed up with him as a baby.
His reply?

Wait for it, it's a classic.







He told me that he would be leaving in a few years, but the stretch marks he gave me are forever- Who wins now?
He has a valid point, and I'm still giggling over that.