—1—
How is your summer going so far? This weekend, I was scared awake by one of my children silently standing at my bedside (I really hoped they'd stop doing that once they got older).
When I recovered and asked what they wanted, they told me "I feel a sense of doom."
So we're great, everything's great.
—2—
I saw this sign on a utility closet at my son's gym.
 |
| If you start combusting during your pommel horse routine, this is where you go. |
I appreciate the humor, and I also want to know where they found a die-cut figure of Puff the Vaping Dragon.
—3—
We've started a new tradition this summer. Every Thursday, Phillip has started commuting to work by bike and afterward we meet him at the town beach. He just bikes straight there and jumps in the lake, which is a perfect way to end a 20-mile bike ride in 80+ degree heat.
Phillip likes biking to work because of the exercise and because it saves money. The second part is a lie, though. When he regularly bikes to work, we spend so much on food that it cancels out anything we're saving on gas. Fuel is fuel, no way around it.
—4—
Twice a month, I lead weeknight activities for the 8- to 11-year-old boys at church. We were playing an old-school game of Telephone, with the boys taking turns coming up with a phrase or sentence to whisper down the line to the rest of the class.
However, I know how 8- to 11-year-old boys work, so first they had to clear their idea with me.
As predicted, the first boy's chosen sentence was "Poop is stinky and disgusting."
Gently, I told him "Let's make it church-appropriate."
He thought for a moment, chose something else, and then it was the next boy's turn. I cupped my hand to my ear to hear his idea and he whispered, "Church toilets."
"Church-appropriate," I reminded him.
He looked at me with exasperation and protested, "It's about church!"
—5—
When we bought this house 16 years ago, I bought and planted three blueberry bushes on the side of the house. One didn't make it, but two of them have gotten pretty big.
They've also never given me a single blueberry.
The problem is that the birds (and possibly chipmunks and other small creatures) always eat the berries before I get to them. It's an unfair fight that I feel I can't win: the animals have literally nothing else to do all day every day, whereas if I prioritize my to-do list then protecting the blueberry bushes are on page 16. So I gave up years ago and let the animals knock themselves out.
But on my last trip to the dump, I saw that someone was getting rid of an unused roll of netting and figured, "It's free, I might as well try one more time." Putting nets over the berry bushes and weighting them with rocks at the bottom took my 12-year-old and I a little longer than I would have liked, but maybe it will work this time.
Regardless, I ate three berries while I was out there putting up the netting so at least now I can say the bushes weren't a total loss.
—6—
We've been working on talking more nicely at home and not using sarcasm with each other this summer. It's gotten... better?
For example:
10yo: "That cleaning spray smells like a Port-a-Potty."
14yo: "I know who else smells like a Port-a-Potty..."
*pointed look from me*
14yo: "...is something that I would never say."
Progress.
—7—
Lastly, just some funny babies and little kids for you. I miss those days. But maybe not all of them.
No comments:
Post a Comment