Thanksgiving lunch

Yesterday was Will's Thanksgiving Lunch at daycare and parents/grandparents were invited to attend. I was scheduled to meet Grandma at the school shortly before noon so we could watch the kids do some last minute dancy-dancing before lunch.

When I got to the classroom, I was accosted by many tiny people wearing the most adorable Indian hats--complete with feathers--and a beautiful spread of Thanksgiving lunch, complete with all the necessary sides. But Tiny was nowhere to be found. The bathroom door was only open a crack, but I could see his little striped arms going nuts, so I figured he was almost done and I could surprise him when he came out. So I waited.

And waited.

People were starting to sit down to eat, so I finally went to check on him. As I approached the door I could hear sobbing. Opening the door, I immediately saw a pair of poop-streaked and completely saturated underpants. Then I saw a sock and a shoe. Sitting precariously on the toilet seat was the sock mate, preparing to say good-bye cruel world and end it all.

Then I turn to see my sweet little Will, going commando with his pants on backwards and soaking wet but his little Indian headress and feathers completely unscathed, sobbing because he had an accident. Which he blamed on his shoes. I got him calmed down and cleaned up, all while reassuring him I wasn't mad, and he proudly told me his socks didn't get wet.

Thank God for that.

We wound up having a wonderful time: the food was really good, the kids were really funny and Will felt pretty special having both Grandma AND Mom show up.

That's Jenny behind Janice--I have the most awesome picture of Jovie being thuggish but don't want to post it unless I get permission.

To the best husband ever

Happy anniversary, babe.  It's been a great eight years.

Damn good husband

Christmas gift giving tip from me to you:

When purchasing a beautiful new laptop for your wife as a surprise Christmas gift, perhaps it's better not to give the computer manufacturer her email address to confirm registration. Because when said wife gets up in the morning and checks her email, a message from HP specifically saying "Guess who's getting a new laptop!" kind of ruins your moment.

I spent most of today debating whether or not to let Jason know I found out about his gift and an offhand comment he made at dinner pushed me to tell. So here I am, christening this new computer with a brand new post all it's own.

Actually, there will be a separate post on the beauty of this little machine. Because it is wonderful. But now I want to tell Jason (which is actually completely silly as he never, ever reads this) thank you so much. This will not be returned.

Will hates Mommy

You may remember a post from earlier this week: I said I want a banana.

You may also remember the post before when Will tried to take me out with a toy jackhammer.

So these two incidents lead me to believe that Will might not get the warm fuzzies when he thinks of me. Last night, I got confirmation.

Little bugger bit me again. In the butt. Why is it just me? Why not Jason? Why are these habits not displayed at school or among his other little friends? Don't get me wrong, I'm glad that sweet little Kylie & Jo are being spared Will's sudden liking for rump roast, but Jason has just as much of a bubble butt as I do, so what's the deal?

I said I want a banana

Sigh. Will's a biter. Trust me, I have first hand knowledge.

The Dunbar's came over for dinner and dominoes tonight. I stood up to answer a phone call from a solicitor (damn our no-having-caller-id-ness). While I was asking Tom--I mean Jason--if he needed to speak to this person, Will was in the background constantly asking for a banana.

The kid really, really wanted a banana.

To prove how hungry he was, he bit me.

In the butt.

Only Tom Selleck looks good in a moustache

And you, sir, are no Tom Selleck.

Story time

The ultimate Jason Story (the one that started Jason Stories) involves his boyfriend, Phillip H. Screwdriver. Jason used to have an old Corvair and one hot summer day, his dad asked Jason to move the car out of the driveway so they could play basketball (or something). So Jason, still in his swim trunks and nothing else, hops into the car.

Forgetting that he'd left a screwdriver (fat end up) wedged in the seat of his car.

It managed to get caught on his swimsuit as he did the aforementioned hopping and wedged itself elsewhere in his anatomy.

Being the loving wife I am, not only have I never let him forget this, but I also post about it on a blog for the whole wide world to see.

Sundays with Kylie

Jason's been a bit short-handed at work the past week or so. He had a store on Sunday and recruited most of the family (it sounds so tawdry--like The Godfather) to work with him. So I got the pleasure of hanging with Will & Kylie on Sunday morning.

We watched some Pablo and drank some milk. Kylie chewed on a screwdriver. No big deal.

Oh no, I'm sorry--the picture above is what's tawdry. I'm not quite sure what's going on there. Either Kylie shat a cup of milk or Will's trying to sodomize his cousin. Fitting, considering the ultimate Jason story.

This post just took a really bad turn. Let's move on to something a bit more wholesome:

Ah, baseball. That fits. Go Rays!

Storytime

Hi everyone,
I'm hijacking Mommy's blog for the evening to tell a story. A story about hamsters that lived in Daddy's first house. When Daddy first moved into the house, he lived with a bunch of people I don't really know, and one that I do know. The one I do know is Daddy's Cousin Shane and he owned two hamsters.

Daddy's Cousin Shane wasn't around a lot, but his hamsters were. They were funny hamsters but they didn't get to go out to play very much (it's like when Mommy doesn't get me out of my crib in the mornings and I'm left to entertain myself with a book and any poop that's collected in my diaper. But that's a story for another time).

One day, Hamster A managed to escape. This made the two cats living at the house very excited. They had a delicious snack that they got to catch themselves which didn't happen a lot. Hamster B was very upset about having to watch his/her hamster-mate die a horrible death, so s/he chewed off his/her own arm and bled to death.

This made Mommy and Daddy laugh and laugh. But it reminded Mommy of another hamster story that had much the same ending, courtesy of her. But that's another story for another time.

The end.

Poops--he did it again...

Jason, I love you. Please don't hate me for telling this.

Last night my darling husband retreated into the bedroom to watch baseball and fall asleep. Before getting into bed, though, he follows a night-time routine of a good poop while catching up on sports scores. Many people do this with the help of a newspaper, but not my husband. Not while he's got his cell phone right in his pocket.

Jason's got a bit of a lactose-intolerance and I had heated up a Stouffer's dinner that Will loves and Jason doesn't mind. Unfortunately, last night, his stomach minded.

Greatly.

So Jason "finished up" and placed his cell phone in the crotch of his pants which were around his ankles. After wiping properly, he stood and pulled his pants up.

Forgetting one critical item.

He heard a secondary sploosh that shouldn't have been there. He turned around.

There it was. His cell phone. His beloved 'Chocolate' swimming in a sea of what at this point can only be considered Hershey's.

I'm going to end the story here. It doesn't, but I'm going to end it here.

Just in the future, don't ever ask to borrow Jason's phone. Seriously. EVER.

12007 Spring Grove Drive

Last night Jason asked if I missed our old house, which, no. My reasons include:

1. I would have to run into the garage to flip the breaker in order to operate my garbage disposal.
2. I was never sure if I would have to open the window in the kitchen while cooking b/c it was possible that Cal had peed on one of the burners. Burning cat pee smells, y’all.
3. The master bathroom had no door.
4. We had no quarter-round on our floors.
5. The utility room smelled like dead mice. Guess why.
6. Popcorn ceilings.
7. There was a hole in the shower of the guest bath because one of Jason’s cousins tried having sex w/ his girlfriend while bathing (or so I was told).
8. There was a hole in the wall between the two guest rooms so Jason’s cousins had a place to hide beer cans.
9. The half-bath smelled like pee because Jason’s cousins liked to stand on the staircase and attempt to pee in the toilet. The attempts failed.
10. Neighborhood hate crimes which resulted in Jason being interviewed on the news (not in a suspect’s role, thank God).

I do have some fond memories of that house: The Gould’s living w/ us for a short time and still being friends w/ us afterwards. My joy of getting dinner from Pei-Wei on Wednesday nights and settling in to watch Lost and gorging myself on Dan Dan noodles. Jason trying to do pull-ups on the banister to impress his sister, falling and breaking his wrist.

…but that’s another entry.