Me: Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better…
Boy (shakes head, smiling):
At 10:00 on Sunday mornings, the kids are supposed to get ready for church. My husband said to them, “Girls, it’s 10:00.”
“You need to tell them what that means,” I said.
“Girls, it’s 10:00, which means the short hand is on the 10 and the long hand is on the 12.”
Husband and I recently got to drive alone in our little red car instead of having to take the big van. I was delighted to be in my old car again. I lovingly stroked the dash and reminded him, “This car is older than our marriage.” Read the rest of this entry
I asked the girls if someone could grab socks for Joe. Two of them yelled, “I will,” and ran off. They returned with these.
“You couldn’t agree on which socks he should wear, huh?” Read the rest of this entry
Aimee posted this about her son:
L: Mommy, after soccer season ends, can you sign me up for flag football?
Me: Sure boo.
L: And then when I get to be in fifth or sixth grade, can you sign me up for kids tackle football?
Me: Yes, we’ll see.
L: And then when I get grown up, can you sign me up for the NFL?
And Sara about her daughter: Read the rest of this entry
Here’s Little Man in his “My First Halloween” outfit.
And so as not to have this blog turn into an excuse for showing off pictures of my baby, here’s a funny story to reward you for scrolling past the pics. My mom sent this to me about a friend’s child.
A little girl asked her grandfather, “Papa, what is the man’s job in a woman having a baby?” Read the rest of this entry
No, this is not a political post. I don’t do those. This is a story that takes place at a park where several friends and our children were gathered. One of my dear friends has an odd habit of accidentally calling me Becky when we’re in public, so, to get back at her, I’ll call her by the wrong name too.
As she was leaving, she waved and called, “Bye, Becky!”
I waved back: “See you later, Hillary.”
Only she didn’t look at me. Or wave to me. Or even smile at me. Read the rest of this entry
For reasons unknown to me, family members enjoy offering Baby Joseph food and laughing at his complete disinterest in this strange multi-colored stuff we’re putting in our mouths.
My youngest daughter said to him in her high-pitched little voice, “You want chips and salsa, Joe? You want some beer?” (Please note that she was consuming neither.)
But the goofiness doesn’t end there. My oldest spilled dry Rice Krispies on the floor. Did she sweep them up right away? No. She brought out Read the rest of this entry