Boo!

Halloween isn't turning out quite the way I had planned. Rob has had a major schedule change that will last until mid November and became effective immediately. Lets just say that the time (before the sun is up) he used to get up to get ready for work is now the time he will be getting home. So we are all adjusting to this.....

Our lovely Mayor decided a few years ago that kids should not trick-or-treat...he wanted people to attend school festivals and church carnivals. He did not ban trick-or-treating he only "strongly discouraged it." I, bucking the system, decided to boycott all that stuff and take the kids trick-or-treating. In 2 hours the three of them combined had collected 1 lifesaver peppermint...a pity peppermint if you will, that a nice old lady dug out of her purse.

This year I planned to fill their ghost & pumpkin candy buckets myself and then hide them for a spirited treasure hunt after school. That I can still do...but I hate that Rob will miss the family pizza/movie picnic I have planned.

It also stinks that he will miss the school's Fall festival tomorrow night. I am all about supporting the school by going...especially since they were kind enough to not have it on Halloween night.

Just an aside....If you are a school or a church and you choose to have your Fall/Halloween festival on Halloween night...suck it up and stop trying to change trick-or-treating to the 30th. If you are only worried about attendance have your thing a different night...if you are trying to make people choose then be prepared to accept their choice.

Happy Halloweenie!

Achoooo

When Miss-D was about 16 months old I was getting her up from her "nap" when I noticed that something didn't seem right. Her copy of Snow White had several pages ripped out and she seemed a tad congested. The little goober had turned pages 7-9 into little paper balls and did the only natural thing....shoved them up her nose.

I tried to get her to blow her nose....nothing. I took her outside and pointed her face right at the sun trying to get her to sneeze...just hacked her off. I told Rob that we would just have to take her to the emergency room.


To put his reaction in perspective I need to tell you that at this time we were living in Ft. Knox, and would be taking her to the Army hospital....a guaranteed 6-7 hour wait. 6-7 hours of sitting with a screaming pissy child, surrounded by other screaming pissy people.


Rob decided that we needed to try a few more things before surrendering ourselves to that particular hell. He tried to get her to blow, tried blunt tweezers....nothing worked. By this time she is thoroughly pissed, mucus running down her little red face...and I tell him again we just need to take her to the hospital.


But, no, he was desperate and had one more trick up his sleeve. He lay her down on our bed. Then he covered her nose with his mouth...and....sucked. I couldn't stop him before he did it, and was too busy rolling around our bedroom floor laughing to do anything to help him after he did it. Two of the little balls shot out of her nose and smacked into the back of his throat like two little booger covered spit balls. He was "aaaahacccckkkkking" and "snooooorrrrking" and dry heaving. Two down...eight to go.


So an hour later in the ER, I was still laughing, he was still green and clearing his throat. 3 hours into our wait Miss-D sneezed....Snow White was free...

**The moral of this story, as brought to us by my cousin the pediatrician...if you are going to suck things out of your child's nose...for the love..put some panty hose over your mouth to keep the booger balls at bay...**

This morning on the way to school:

MonkeyBoy: I am so excited, today is my computer day at school.

Me: Huh...bluuug, shunnou manouniii (coffee not working yet - but roughly translates to "What, huh, whataya mean")

MonkeyBoy: I get to look at different stuff, like National Geographic...

Magnuts: Nekid boobies!!!heee heee heee

MonkeyBoy: NO! Kid's National Geographic, gah.

Me: Huh, wha why?

MonkeyBoy: Well, if you are good you get to have a day when you get to use the computer like a ...

Miss-D: Dog treat.

MonkeyBoy: Uh unnnn....are you calling me a dog?!?!? If I am a dog and you are my sister that makes you a .....

Me: STOP. RIGHT. NOW.


Happy Monday to me.....

Friday Funny

I got two e-mails this morning that had me laughing my butt off. I thought I should pass them along and leave you this fine Friday with a good laugh....

First the e-mail forwarded from cousin Chucky:

Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable. No matter how legitimate my excuse, I always get the feeling that my boss thinks I'm lying.

On one recent occasion, I had a valid reason but lied anyway , because the truth was just too darned humiliating. I simply mentioned that I had sustained a head injury, and I hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day. By then, I reasoned, I could think up a doozy to explain the bandage on the top of my head. The accident occurred mainly because I had given in to my wife's wishes to adopt a cute little kitty. Initially, the new acquisition was no problem.


Then one morning, I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my wife, Deb, call out to me from the kitchen.

"Honey! The garbage disposal is dead again. Please come reset it."

"You know where the button is," I protested through the
shower pitter-patter and steam. "Reset it yourself!"

"But I'm scared!" she persisted. "What if it starts going and sucks me in?"

There was a meaningful pause and then, "C'mon, it'll only take you a second."

So out I came, dripping wet and butt naked, hoping that my silent outraged nudity would make a statement about how I perceived her behavior as extremely cowardly.

Sighing loudly, I squatted down and stuck my head under the sink to find the button. It is the last action I remember performing.

It struck without warning, and without any respect to my circumstances. No, it wasn't the hexed disposal, drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth. It was our new kitty, who discovered the fascinating dangling objects she spied hanging between my legs. She had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I reached under the sink. And, at the precise moment when I was most vulnerable, she lept at the toys I unwittingly offered and snagged them with her needle-like claws. I lost all rational thought to control orderly bodily movements, blindly rising at a violent rate of speed, with the full weight of a kitten hanging from my masculine region.

Wild animals are sometimes faced with a "fight or flight"
syndrome. Men, in this predicament, choose only the "flight"
option. I know this from experience. I was fleeing straight up into the air when the sink and cabinet bluntly and forcefully impeded my ascent. The impact knocked me out cold.

When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me.

Now there are not many things in this life worse than finding oneself lying on the kitchen floor butt naked in
front of a group of "been-there, done-that" paramedics.
Even worse, having been fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics were all snorting loudly as they tried to conduct their work, all the while trying to suppress their hysterical laughter......and not succeeding.

Somehow I lived through it all. A few days later I finally made it back in to the office, where colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me about my head injury. I kept silent, claiming it was too painful to talk about, which it was.

"What's the matter?" They all asked, "Cat got your tongue?"
If they only knew!

And finally a little picture my Mom forwarded me titled "Redneck Tank Top"; look closely:

Woman Scorned

***Edit***
After reading an e-mail about this post I feel I need to clarify....Miss-D is not some ticking time bomb. She was doing research to help her understand a person whose behavior is confusing to her. She was looking for common interests or anything that might help her understand why this teacher is so rude to her. We had a long conversation about how in the "grown-up" world sometimes people are just butt-holes. Nothing she can do about it, ride it out, keep her head down and the year will be over. Learning to deal with difficult personalities is a part of growing up and she is getting a crash course in it. I hope this edit clarifies things.***

Miss-D is learning how to live with a teacher who does not like her. She was mystified at the beginning of the year when her new science teacher (this would be the loon who had them picking aluminum cans out of the trash in the 105 heat) seemed to dislike her. She has never had a teacher who didn't love her...not because she is a suck up but because she is smart, doesn't disrupt class and can fix their computers.

New teacher...just doesn't care for her. At the beginning of the year there were tears of frustration; then she came up with a plan.


Plan A: Compliment her and be as helpful as possible (read: kiss bootie)

Plan B: Speak to the teacher after class and ask her why she does not like her.


Things had been OK for a while....but Miss-D has not been feeling well for the last week. Yesterday was her first day back and she was not feeling on top of her game. Apparently the teacher was rudely dismissive of her and it hit Miss-D pretty hard.

Last night I interrupted her mid-Google. She had already acquired a great deal of information about this teacher...to include, but not limited to-her home phone number, address, husband's name, pet's names, a list of previous employers.....

Miss-D may seem all sweetness and light...but apparently she reacts strongly to being kicked when she is down. I love the moxie...but had to put my foot down with the unsupervised Googling.

I am guessing that she is one lock of the woman's hair and a sewing needle away from having a very nasty voodoo doll....plan C?

Prep Day

It is Homecoming week for the FlyingMonkeys. Each day of the week has a dress theme. Today is Prep Day...meaning they are to dress "preppy." MonkeyBoy's teacher cited this as a fashion do:

The kids seem to now equate preppy with dorky. All three kids have shirts tucked in, khaki pants, and sweaters tied around their necks. Before school, to my horror, I found them doing this in the den:

Thank you Nick at Night.

Slice and dice...

I tried to get the attic fan to work last night. I chanted "come on, come on, come on" with each rotation of the blades...it went faster and faster...got louder and louder. Not louder in the way that means it was going strong; more like it was about to come free from its mounting and kill everything in it's path.

I could just see the headlines in our paper: "Local Woman Julienned By Attic Fan"

Because I am a prudent woman I took a few steps back and observed it's progress from the boy's room. Magnuts was behind me and confirmed my suspicion that it really was louder than usual....I think, I couldn't hear him and his sign language is suspect at best.

It is dead, or I think we will be if we try to use it again. The AC is back on....

Free Cold Air!

Saturday night was our last football game (read: me doing happy dance that the 6-8pm practices twice a week are over) and the weather was wonderful! Because I have been a little under the weather I decided to work the gate instead of concessions.

Even though kick-off wasn't until 5:30 I needed to be there at 3 to keep people from coming in without paying. At 3ish it was still in the 80s so I was a little tickled at all the folks bringing in blankets and heavy coats.....the low was only going to be 67!

It is so funny to me that the people who survive 6 months of sweltering heat each year will be the first ones to throw on thermal blankets the moment we get some relief. I was sitting there in shorts and a t-shirt perfectly comfortable....right next to people huddled together under blankets drinking coffee.

Seriously, I own 2 pair of long pants.

My windows are open and my AC is off for the first time since May. I have fans in the windows pulling in the nice cool air and the wonderful smell of my blooming Tea Olives. Heaven.....

Punk

In Montgomery, Alabama.....This guy and his wife came home Tuesday after being away for a week and found that their house had been emptied. They were seriously cleaned out...and the burglar had not only taken everything he could get his hands on he had also made a big mess. The husband told his wife to go to her sisters while he checked everything out. It was about this time that he ran into the burglar (33-year-old Tajuan Bullock), who had come back into the house, and was wearing the mans hat. Not only did they hold the thug at gun point they made him CLEAN up the mess that he made. When the authorities arrived Tajuan had the nerve to complain to the police that he had been made to clean up at gun point. The police laughed at him and told him he was lucky that he had not been killed.

This reminds me of another story that happened here a few years ago. A man had gone over to his elderly father's house to cut the grass and instead interrupted a burglar. He held the idiot at gunpoint and made him mow the lawn until the police arrived. This guy had the nerve to complain too.

What in the hell is going on with these people? You see it, you want it, you take it. Bull.

Several years ago a guy and his lovely girlfriend decided to break into our storage area, in broad daylight, and steal all of my Christmas stuff. Among other things they took the Christmas stocking my Mom made for me when I was a child. Consider this-with 5 people living in one house and our busy schedules we always have something around here that needs to be done. Also-our thief and his accomplice were both high on Meth; from what I understand that gives them an abundance of energy. I bet that with the help of my gun I could have gotten a LOT of crap done. I live a long way from the city...by the time the cops got here I could have had them clean the swamp the kids call a bathroom, bushhog the front field, and finish painting the kitchen.

Alas...I didn't catch them...and the swamp still needs to be cleaned.

Memo to all Meth heads:

My children are sick, I am sick. My sinuses are draining and my throat is on fire. So let me take a moment to thank you for making me wait in the frickin pharmacy line for 25 minutes to get a box of Sudafed.

I hope you all get the exact same thing I have. I hope that your throat turns into a mucus waterfall and feels like you swallowed razor blades. I hope you pass it along to everyone you sell or use Meth with. I hope that you suffer with this...using up every one of your ill gotten Sudafed pills for their true purpose...then I hope you suffer with it some more. I hope you stand in line for 25 minutes hoping to get your hands on more Sudafed and that they will not sell you any because I got the last box.

May you suffer this heinous boogerilla fate until it dawns on you that Sudafed only has one use.


Bite Me,
Laura

Nothing you can say....

There was a really nice lady that used to work for my Dad. She told us a story about a Thanksgiving dinner she had attended when her children were both very young. It was a typical Thanksgiving....every living member of her family was seated and ready to begin the meal when someone asked her young son to say the blessing.


It began normally enough, "Thank you for the food, especially the pies....." but ended like this:

"And thank you for MeeMaw and PopPop, and please Lord help Mama and Daddy stop smoking the pot....Amen."


Oi.

Bet on it...

MonkeyBoy is running for SGA Treasurer. He needed to have to campaign posters and something to hand out to his constituents to make them remember to vote for him by 8am Monday morning. Because we have been out of town we ended up in a serious time crunch Sunday night.

I made our twice monthly big grocery trip Sunday and planned to pick up the supplies he needed for his campaign. At 5pm I came to the realization that there was NO play money to be found (not buying monopoly just for the stinkin $) and had to switch gears. At the Dollar Tree I found packs of poker chips-60 for a $1. Frickin perfect! His new slogan could be "Bet on MonkeyBoy!" and he could hand out poker chips with his name on them!!!! I bought glitter glue, 180 poker chips, and poster board.

I got started on the poker chips while Rob was looking for a picture of a Royal Flush to print and add to the poster...he found something better. Behold the picture that is the center of MonkeyBoy's poster:

Yes, that is MonkeyBoy's head....he doesn't usually have that smarmy grin on his face..that was a little something special for the poster.

He will be working on a speech to give tomorrow and elections are Thursday...he is not even nervous.

To be fair I am including a picture that does not make him look like such a goob...

Taken last week at the beach....my MonkeyBoy:

Jinx...

Saturday morning my Mom and I were enjoying coffee on the balcony while watching the ocean....this is when it happened. I stupidly said, "I can't believe we have been at the beach for almost a week and NOTHING blog worthy has happened."

I am a fool.

We needed to leave a little early so that we could be home in time for Magnut's football game. I got all of our junk together, marvelling at how our pile of stuff had doubled in just a few days. The FlyingMonkeys were corralled and run through the bathroom for one last "tee tee" while I took a final look under the beds. Goodbyes were said and we wrestled the overloaded luggage cart to elevator and made our way to the car.

....In football this would be called the end of our "forward progress."

It was a few minutes before 10am and I was in the groove...luggage loaded, kids belted in...and then I noticed...lots of people milling around...some were setting up chairs on the sidewalk..curiouser and curiouser....

Some genius decided that Saturday morning, exactly at check-out time, would be the perfect frickin time to close a few miles of Front Beach road for a Shriner's parade. We were stuck. We watched in horror as men careened down both lanes of the street in go-carts, 4 wheelers, and motorcycles. A few minutes into this exercise in brilliance I overheard someone say that the road would be closed until 11:30.

Unacceptable. We were going to wait for a "parade lull" and make a break for it. The parking lot exit was blocked...this did not stop us. We simply reversed until we were "going in through the out door." The plan was to jump right on in the parade and have the kids wave like crazy until I could whip us off on a side road.

The lull never came....but the clowns did. Me and clowns...not so much. The FlyingMonkeys decided it would be funny to sic one of the clowns on me. They got a particularly stupid one to come try and get me into the spirit of the parade. They were literally rolling on the ground laughing and pointing at me. Because they were watching me I could only mentally give the clown the "spirit finger."

We sat though the entire thing...next time instead of declaring something un-blog worthy I will be a little more clear- "Wow, we had a great relaxing time...no indoor water balloon fights, no one needed a cast and nothing was set on fire."

Duh.

Wish You Were Here...

I have been SOOOOOOOOO busy....work work work.....

Nahhhh, just kidding......

The water is clear as a bell and the weather has been beautiful....check back with y'all soon!

Let me introduce you....

to Miss-D.

I remember 7th and 8th grade as a total nightmare. I don't think that there is anything meaner than 12/13yo girls. Miss-D is the exception. Sure she can drive us to absolute insanity, make her brothers actually consider homicide....but she will also be the first one to give one of them a hug.

She wears her heart on her sleeve and is absolutely baffled when someone is mean to her for no reason. I have explained to her that I remembered how in 7th grade girls would be enemies one week and best friends the next. This truth does not make her feel any better because she just does not understand it...it does not seem logical to her.

A few weeks ago a friend did something absolutely cruel to her at lunch. When I picked her up from school that day I could tell something was wrong. I asked her about it and she said she needed to talk to me privately. That is our code for "as soon as we get home we go to my bedroom, shut the doors, flop on my bed and talk." She told me about it and that she had written her friend a letter telling her that, "what you did today was mean and hurt my feelings; until things change you are on "friend probation"."

I was so tempted to tell her that was the wrong thing to do. That telling the girl how much she had hurt her made her looked needy and that could make things worse. Kids that age will see that as a weakness and go after her even more. But I didn't.

I wanted to tell her that those kids are idiots, I wanted to go find them and kick their butts, I wanted....to do a lot of things.

I was not like that as a kid. Even though it often bites her in the arse Miss-D is willing to tell people exactly how she feels..hurt, angry, sad....I wanted to tell her to stop doing this, to toughen up and not let it get to her. At some point I realized why I was not like her when I was a kid, why most people are not like her...because it is too scary. Putting your feelings out there like that takes a kind of courage that I can not imagine.

She tries out for everything...cheerleading, choir, plays....and today...right this second...basketball. Does the fact that she has never picked up a basketball stop her, no. During the practices a girl told Miss-D that she would pay her not to come back for tryouts.

My fearless girl. My girl who writes the most amazing stories, dreams up the best games and loves us all so much. She is at this moment running around the gym with her heart right there on her sleeve....So....let me introduce you to the bravest person I know:

Actually....

You know how some poker players have a "tell"? Some little thing like drumming their fingers or scratching their ear that "tells" you that they are bluffing? Magnuts has one...if he EVER starts a sentence with the word "actually" (pronounced Act-chew-lee) whatever follows will be pure unadulterated bologna. Combine this trait with his obsessive need to "one up" his siblings and we hear the word actually A LOT.

One morning on the way to school:


Magnuts- Mom, I can now read the 4.5 - 4.8 books (means 4th grade 5th month through 8th month).

Miss-D- I am reading at college level (she is)

MonkeyBoy- I am at least at the high school level right Mom?

Magnuts- Actually, I am reading at college level


*****

Me-Who has finished the last Harry Potter?

MonkeyBoy-Not all of........

Magnuts- Actually, I already finished it. It was great.

The other two are so used to this baloney they don't even call him on it.

****
BTW...We started Fall break this week and will be heading to the beach this afternoon. We should have free wireless internet...so depending on how things go I am going to try and post a few from the beach.

If the bloggy planets do not align then I will see y'all on Monday!

Fark...

No, it's not what you think. Well maybe it is, I am not always on top of the newest things. Rob tried to get me to check this site out all weekend.

Rob-*pulls site up on laptop and puts it right in front of my face* "Come on Laura...you will love this site...it is exactly the kind of strange news you love...."

Me-*averting eyes* "Noooooooo, I already have too many things to read everyday!" (compulsive much?!?)

This little dance continued through the weekend...until Sunday afternoon....when I caved...and fell in love.

The site is www.fark.com

The following is a sample of the headlines that had me hooked:

--If you're going to run from the cops after being pulled over for excessively tinted windows, don't leave your crack and two infants behind in the car

--What do you get when you cross a sickle, a brick, and a push lawnmower? One heck of a birthday party

--Barktoberfest. Doggy Halloween. I Shih Tzu not

--10-year-old boy leads police on a 44 mile long chase at about 25 mph in a stolen school bus. Sandra Bullock unavailable for comment

--When being arrested, giving the officer a "Wet Willie" isn't going to help matters

I could spend hours going through this site reading all the weird stuff....and probably will.

There has got to be some kind of 12 step program for this.....

Coming in a little hot....

A few years ago we went to a really nice water park in Birmingham. They had these huge water slides that kind of looked like this:

The thing that confused me was the size of the pool that the slides emptied into. It was HUGE. I just couldn't figure out why on earth it needed to be larger than an Olympic sized pool.

It all became clear....

Magnuts and I grabbed our innertubes and climbed the 6 billion stairs to the launch platform. He was going first (mistake #1) on his tummy. The attendant held the innertube for him while he got situated and then gave him a nudge...off he went. I decided to go belly down too (mistake #2); the attendant counted to five and shoved me down the slide.

A few things that should have been considered---

1. I weigh a considerable bit more than Magnuts, hence I would travel a GREAT deal faster down the slide than he would.

2. Going face down eliminated the two things that could have slowed me down ( hooters and the "I've had 3 kids belly") thus making me, for the first time in 12 years, aerodynamic.

A few seconds into it I realized that there was a very real chance that I would catch up to Magnuts and seeing as how I was now a "mommy missile of mass destruction" there could be trouble. I began yelling, "Magnuts! hurry get out of the way!!!! Momma is coming in a little hot!" Don't know why I bothered, since I at that point I was going faster than the speed of sound.

The end of the slide was in sight....I was praying that there was no human being anywhere near the opening of the tube....

I hit the pool just as I was nearing the speed of light and skipped like a giant Mom shaped stone 15 or 16 times all the way across the pool, finally stopping near the stairs.

Some clapped, some just stared in horror.....

And that my friends, is why the pool is so frickin big.

***HEY!!!! I just noticed that this my 101th post...I totally missed 100....Dang I feel like I just saw my odometer roll to 100,001....

Am I Blue...

2:00am-

Wake up with full bladder. Upon standing need becomes exponentially worse and I shuffle/stumble through the dark; knees pressed firmly together.

Arrive at bathroom door, teeth gritted. Grab elastic waist band of PJs with both hands and shove them down as I waddle last 2 feet to the toilet.

**to explain what happened next I need to tell you about watching the Life Flight helicopters land at the hospital. If the patient aboard was stable the helicopter took its time, circled the pad and came straight down, nice and slow right to the middle spot. If the patient was not doing well the helicopter came screaming in at what seemed an impossible angle, no time for the nice little circle and soft landing.**

I was inches away from the toilet and urgency dictated the the "screaming angle" method of landing. I hit the seat....and then the seat and I slid off the toilet and into the tile wall. I tried to get my feet under me so that I would not fall to the floor. The shoving down of the pants while waddling apparently turned my PJs into one of these:

My knees were bound together. I was able to get my hands in front of me and thus avoided cracking my skull on the tile lip of the shower.

I just lay there in the dark for a moment. So grateful that I would not be found dead..bare arse in the air. Then the original reason for this little ballet of death came back to me with a vengeance. I flipped and I flopped...finally I was up. I grabbed the towel bar and lowered myself to do my business....when.....I noticed the toilet seemed lower than usual. Before my fuzzy brain registered that thing on the floor was the actual seat I had let go of the towel bar and was now wedged into a bowl of icy cold blue water.

Do you have any idea how hard it is to get any kind of leverage when your knees are still trussed together by your PJs?

Obviously I was able to remove myself....and because I have already told you more than you probably wanted to know I will end on a positive note... Tidy Bowl will not turn your arse blue.

Killing me softly....

I JUST set up Google Reader.....I know..duh. It does make going through my list of must reads a lot easier but some of y'all are just killing me. I open it up and have like 70 new posts to check out....I am clicking my way down the list....stopping by on some of them to post a comment...and all of a sudden I have 78 new ones to read.

I am a little obsessive..I like to keep the number at 0. I check back several times a day and go through the new ones...I am terrified that I will wake up one morning and see:

All Items (1,222,785)

I am going to have to get over this.

Uhhhhhhhh

Yesterday's post was kind of a lie. Our weekend really was fun.....until Sunday night. Miss-D spent Saturday night with my parents and the boys got to camp out in the den. Sometime before midnight Rob got a wild hair up his rump and decided to "spring clean" the kid's rooms and bathroom....he did this until 4am. I tell you this not just to make you jealous, but to help you understand the screaming nutty that would occur Sunday evening.


Miss-D came home Sunday with a bunch of uninflated balloons. No big deal right?


About 5:30 that evening Rob and I were watching football and the kids were playing and getting their showers. I was on the phone with my Mom who was telling me what a delight it had been to spend the weekend with Miss-D when I heard a loud yell from the kid's end of the house. It was loud enough that even Rob could not pretend that he didn't hear it. He went to check it out. A few seconds later I heard a ruckus like you would not believe. Still on the phone I walked into the kitchen just in time to see the boys dragging a LOAD of soaking wet linens to the laundry room.


A few seconds later Rob came back towards our bedroom, he was instructing the boys to collect every towel they could find on the floor of the laundry room and then to use them to START soaking up the water. He then sat on our bed and told me that he could not deal with this because he was too angry to even look at them. Apparently the FlyingMonkeys decided that balloons were fun but that GIANT water balloons were just chock full of awesomeness.


There was a water balloon the size of a late summer watermelon on Miss-D's freshly made bed. It was so large that it burst when Rob tried to pick it up. There were several more in the bathroom sinks and then a few the size of cantaloupes in Miss-D's bottom dresser drawer.


The entire bathroom floor was covered in water, the little bits of popped balloon were floating peacefully on the tiny waves. The swampy bathroom was the result of a few of the "water bombs" slipping out of their hands as they cocked their arms to launch them through the open bathroom widow.


You are probably checking the right side of this page to see if you "miss-remembered" how old the FlyingMonkeys are.....they really are 12 1/2, 11 and 8.


This took me back to a time when Miss-D was 4 and MonkeyBoy was 3. Rob was still deployed in Kosovo so I was by myself...If you don't count the 4yo, 3yo and newborn Magnuts. I had gotten the oldest two fed, bathed and in clean PJs. It was about 10 minutes before their bedtime when MonkeyBoy came to me with raw egg sliding down his freshly washed hair....Miss-D was nowhere in sight. Those two knuckleheads had gotten the eggs out of the fridge, climbed into MonkeyBoy's top bunk and then launched them at the ceiling fan. The eggs didn't just smack the fan and fall to the ground...because it was ON....it slung egg boogies in every crack and crevice of his room.

Oi.

A Good Time Was Had By All...

Except maybe for Bama and Gator fans....

But before I get to football I want to say how happy/relieved I was with all of the comments on Friday's post. I was just SURE that the "group name" I made up (WOMBS) would hack people off...It was just too funny to me to pass it up and I was hoping that some of you shared my sense of humor. Y'all sure know how to sweet talk a girl!


And now:


Magnuts football team pulled off the trick play to end all trick plays to tie up the game Saturday.

Picture this: The line is set. The center then very loudly says "This is the wrong ball" as he hands it between his legs to the QB. The QB then begins walking toward the side lines yelling, "HEY COACH THIS IS THE WRONG BALL!" When the QB gets to the end of the line he quickly turns and runs to the end zone!


I can not believe we pulled this play, I can not believe it worked and most of all I CAN NOT believe it is legal.


Don't feel to badly for our opponent...they ended up winning and Magnuts took a dirty late hit early in the game.


We still had a great weekend, hope y'all did too!

War Eagle!