It’s been a while since I’ve posted anything. We have been busy and when we haven’t been busy, I haven’t felt like writing anything. It seems like we are blowing and going non stop all week. I get up at 5:30 and we put the kids down by 8:30. Throw in church, T-ball, bible study, more T-ball, track meets, T-ball tournaments, homework and Awanas and we get to Saturday, look up, and wonder where in the crap the week went. I know a lot of you feel my pain, so don’t give me too much grief for not having posted in a while.
THREE RING CIRCUS x 2 = GRAVES' HOUSE
With three kids, I can only imagine it will get worse. As they all grow up and become more involved in different activities, we will just become increasingly busier. And as if 3 kids weren’t enough, we…check that…Corey felt we didn’t have enough to do. She talked me into getting some dogs. I guess I should back up a little. We had a boxer, Oskie. (It’s a football term, if you don’t know, don’t ask. It won’t make sense to you anyway.) He was over a year old and was a really good dog. He was a beautiful dog and was great with the kids. But as I just told you, we are pretty busy and we never really spent the time with him that he needed. As a gesture of thanks for nothing, he completely remodeled our backyard. Not so much remodeled as demolished. He chewed up our porch swing along with the kid’s swings. He dug holes in the yard and along the fence. He deposited land mines all over the yard; and made it miserable for the kids to go outside and play. So in turn, we spent less time with him, and he would tear the yard up even more. It was a vicious cycle. Well we finally bit the bullet and found another home for him. (We got connected up with Pick a Pal on Myspace and they hooked us up with a great new home for him) So we were going to wait a while and get an inside dog so the kids would have a pet and would want to play with it. Well Oskie wasn’t out of the house 48 hours and Corey was already on the internet searching for another dog. And it didn’t take her long to find what she wanted. To say it was two hours would be stretching it. As soon as she saw the Wee-Chon, she was hooked. It is a mix between a West Highland Terrior and a Bichon Frise. They are a hybrid dog. Hybrid is an extravagant way to say mutt. So anyway, within moments of discovering these mutts, she located a breeder in Daingerfield, which is about an hour and a half from Texarkana. A few phone calls later, she conned me into agreeing to get 2 of the little half-breeds. I didn’t even get “Whatever” out of my mouth before she and Baylie were in the car heading west on I-30 to Doggytown. Almost exactly an hour and a half later I get a text. “She has 3, can we have all 3?” My response was an emphatic and absolute, “NO!!!!”. We were not getting 3 dogs. No way. Not a chance. It would be a cold day…I’m sure you can guess what happened. My wife can be very convincing. VERY convincing. So an hour and a half later, she pulls into the drive with 3 fur balls that have done nothing but poop and piss everywhere. But the kids love them and my wife is happy. And when she is happy, I am happy. The little turds are pretty cute, I have to admit.
SPEED RACER
Drew started T-ball this year and we have only played a few games. He seems to enjoy it but it’s T-ball, so how does he really know. He bats twice and hangs around second base squatting down and holding his glove over his face while the game is going on. But I think what he likes the most is running the bases. And even more than that, he likes the fact that his coach brags about how fast he is. Well that has gone straight to his head. We were on our way to church the other night we had this conversation:
Drew: Dad will you pull over.
Dad: For what.
Drew: So you can let me out.
Dad: For what.
Drew: So I can run to church.
Dad: Why would you want to run to church?
Drew: Because I can run faster than this car and I’ll beat you there.
Dad: Buddy, I know you can run fast, but I’m not putting you out on the side of the road right now. Maybe another time.
(After church we were going to eat for my sister’s birthday and my mom called wanting to know where we were b/c Texas Roadhouse was going to give our table away) Drew overheard the conversation and the following discussion took place:
Drew: Dad, pull over.
Dad: What?
Drew: Pull over, please. (like I was just waiting on him to say please)
Dad: For what?
Drew: I want you to drop me off.
Dad: Where?
Drew: On the side of the road.
Dad: For what?
Drew: So I can run to Texas Roadhouse so Mammy won’t be mad at me for being late.
He’s not that fast. He is confident though.
CSI MIAMI
Everyday is an adventure in our 1st period PE class. First period is set aside for girl’s athletics. So we get all of the girls who either cannot play or get kicked out of athletics, on top of the already unmotivated group of teenagers who would just assume shoot you as to do a single jumping jack. All together there are about 68 kids in that class. And with girl’s athletics going on, they are using all of the athletic facilities so there is nowhere for us to go. We have no locker room to change in nor do we have anywhere to take them. So we go to the cafeteria. It does give us a chance to talk to the kids and we get some interesting stories along the way. One particular morning, we could tell there was something going on with a few of the girls. There was some serious teenage drama going down. So we called one of them up to find out exactly what the problem was. This girl’s parents named her after the Osh Kosh clothing line. She isn’t very smart but obviously she gets some things honest and there are some things she can’t help. We’ll call her Osh for short. Osh informed us that her best friend was trying to go out with her boyfriend behind her back and she was ticked. She was crying and fussing and carrying on like someone stole her hair weave. I asked her how she knew what was going on b/c she hadn’t talked to either the boyfriend or the girl. We suggested she talk to them first before jumping to conclusions. She promptly told us she was not jumping to conclusions, she KNEW what was happening. We asked her how she could be so sure and this is what she told us. This is exactly what she said. Honestly. I have witnesses. She said, “I ain’t as retarded as everyone thank I is. My granny watch a lotta CSI Miami and I watch CSI Miami, I put the clues together. I know that girl messin with my boyfriend.” I don’t know what was said after that because I had to get up and walk off so she would see me doubling over in laughter.
I SAW RED
Does anyone else use Redbox? It is without question one of the greatest inventions ever. They are literally red boxes that are DVD vending machines. It’s a dollar a day. We have several around town, located at Albertson’s and Wal-Mart. We use the crap out of them. The only problem is that a lot of times, when you get to a Redbox, there is someone with a 3rd grade education trying to operate the machine. My last trip to return a movie almost resulted in my first felony assault charge. She looked innocent enough but I was real close to taking out that 50 year old lady with 6 DVDs and an inability to read elementary directions on the case as to how to return the DVDs. Seriously folks, it’s not rocket science. Make sure the bar code is facing a certain way, press the Return DVD button, insert it into slot, wait a moment and repeat steps for multiple returns. So if you have never used one, you are now overqualified to maneuver through a redbox. There were about 4 people in line in front of me, and saying she was having a hard time would be an understatement. She COULD NOT get the bar code to face the right way. And there are only 2 options! If you don’t do it right, when you slide the DVD in, it spits it back at you. Well she was trying to feed them in one after another and the machine was spitting them back at her. She was cussing the machine and pushing the touch screen harder and harder, as if that was going to make her IQ level raise 30 points to where she can understand the directions. Sort of like when someone you talk to a person who doesn't speak English very fluently, you talk louder in hopes they will understand you better. Well I think she jammed her finger on the touch screen because she resorted to huffing and puffing and looking around saying, “I don’t know what’s wrong with this stupid machine.” Yeah, it’s the machine’s fault. I bet it took her 15 minutes to return her movies. It would have been longer had the guy behind her not helped her get them returned. It’s a great concept but I am going to start carrying a gun to the Redbox. If you’re too stupid to work a Redbox, you deserve to at least get shot in the butt to discourage you from coming back. Just go to Blockbuster. They’ll walk you through the process. You don’t have to do anything that requires you to think. Yeah, it costs a little more, but you have to ask yourself, is a few dollars really worth getting shot over?
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Friday, January 2, 2009
Hickonics
The great novelist Ernest Hemingway suggested you not mix emotions with a good glass of wine, it loses its taste. Well, if that’s the case, having an English degree shouldn’t be mixed with intolerance while living in East Texas. Good grammar in East Texas is going the way of the Hybrid Spider Monkey (trust me it’s not looking good for the little primates). The two elements are as compatible as oil and water. They go together like ice cream and pickles. They are associated with one another about like Jack Black and Academy Awards. You got it yet? For those few unfortunate readers, who are unfamiliar with the geographic setting classified as East Texas, let me help you. If you get out your map of Texas, stick the spike of a compass on Longview, then draw a circle of what would approximately be 100 miles all around, you have a rough calculation of what makes up East Texas. (You like how I keep capitalizing it like it’s a state in and of itself? I’m sure there are a few people down in Austin who would be more than happy to fill up a petition and allow us to annex ourselves from the rest of the state. Probably wouldn’t be a bad idea!) Well within that little circle of mapage (new word) there are thousands of people who ABSOLUTELY REFUSE to use proper grammar. And it aggravates the living crap out of me (that’s an odd saying isn’t it). A few years back, the word Ebonics was created to describe the language that African Americans use to communicate with each other (as a matter of fact, if you go to school at LSU, you can major in Ebonomics). So in the spirit of creation, I give you Hickonics. Hickonics is the unashamed use of improper grammar to communicate with both the educated and uneducated factions of society. There are a few commonly used phrases in hickonics that particularly get under my skin. “I aint got no”, “I done seen it”, “They done been” and “It don’t get no” are all commonly used statements of ignorance that are thrown around very loosely in this part of the country. Nothing makes someone sound more uneducated than improper grammar. But these idiots don’t care. I would worry about offending some of them if they are reading, but they probably stopped reading at Ernest Hemingway.
So Corey and I are constantly correcting our children when they fall off the wagon and begin speaking hickonics. I’m not talking about the cute little things that kids tend to mispronounce. Baylie used to call concrete, crete-cron and a suitcase, cutesase. Drew calls marshmallows, smarshmellas. Casey tells Drew not to underrupt her when she is talking. No, I’m not talking about these dyslexic mispronunciations. I’m talking about full blown conversations of stupidity. You never really know what your kids are paying attention to and what they hold onto when you are not around. Well one day during December, my mom was at her piano with Baylie and cousin Macy singing the Christmas song, “I’m Gettin Nuttin For Christmas.” The words are just that, “I’m gettin nuttin for Christmas, Mommy and Daddy are mad.” Baylie and Macy are singing at the top of their lungs when Drew comes bouncing around the corner. My mom tries to recruit Drew to join along. He stops them and lets them know he WILL NOT sing that song because you are supposed to say, “I’m not getting anything for Christmas.” Baylie rolled her eyes at him and said, “Drew! It’s just a song. Those are the words of the song. Just sing it.” Drew looks back at her and says, “Nope. Mommy and Daddy will be mad if I sing that song and then I might not get anything for Christmas.” Baylie just shook her head and kept singing. Drew left the room and went to get Baylie an application for LSU.
Of course, if there is an essay part on that LSU application requiring the applicants to describe some things he/she is good at, Baylie’s got a scholarship locked up. A few weeks back, the lesson at church was centered around being humble. When the kids broke into their Sunday school classes, they did an activity that was supposed to correlate with the theme of humbleness. I think Baylie missed the boat. After church, she ran up to us and handed us a piece of paper. This is exactly what was on it.
1. I am good at swiming.
2. I am good at reading.
3. I am good at gimnasticks.
4. I am good at siense.
5. I am good at math.
6. I am smart.
7. I am good at cherring.
8. I am good at …
One of Webster’s definitions of humble is “having a feeling of insignificance, inferiority.” I don’t think Baylie has an inferiority complex! Though she may have missed the underlying theme of the lesson, at least she didn’t start the paper with, “I done been good at swiming.”
I hope everyone had a Very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. I’m not one to make resolutions, but if you are, here’s hoping you don’t break em. And if your resolution is to use better grammar in 09, God Bless You. Spread the intelligence and join the cause to stomp out ignorance.
So Corey and I are constantly correcting our children when they fall off the wagon and begin speaking hickonics. I’m not talking about the cute little things that kids tend to mispronounce. Baylie used to call concrete, crete-cron and a suitcase, cutesase. Drew calls marshmallows, smarshmellas. Casey tells Drew not to underrupt her when she is talking. No, I’m not talking about these dyslexic mispronunciations. I’m talking about full blown conversations of stupidity. You never really know what your kids are paying attention to and what they hold onto when you are not around. Well one day during December, my mom was at her piano with Baylie and cousin Macy singing the Christmas song, “I’m Gettin Nuttin For Christmas.” The words are just that, “I’m gettin nuttin for Christmas, Mommy and Daddy are mad.” Baylie and Macy are singing at the top of their lungs when Drew comes bouncing around the corner. My mom tries to recruit Drew to join along. He stops them and lets them know he WILL NOT sing that song because you are supposed to say, “I’m not getting anything for Christmas.” Baylie rolled her eyes at him and said, “Drew! It’s just a song. Those are the words of the song. Just sing it.” Drew looks back at her and says, “Nope. Mommy and Daddy will be mad if I sing that song and then I might not get anything for Christmas.” Baylie just shook her head and kept singing. Drew left the room and went to get Baylie an application for LSU.
Of course, if there is an essay part on that LSU application requiring the applicants to describe some things he/she is good at, Baylie’s got a scholarship locked up. A few weeks back, the lesson at church was centered around being humble. When the kids broke into their Sunday school classes, they did an activity that was supposed to correlate with the theme of humbleness. I think Baylie missed the boat. After church, she ran up to us and handed us a piece of paper. This is exactly what was on it.
1. I am good at swiming.
2. I am good at reading.
3. I am good at gimnasticks.
4. I am good at siense.
5. I am good at math.
6. I am smart.
7. I am good at cherring.
8. I am good at …
One of Webster’s definitions of humble is “having a feeling of insignificance, inferiority.” I don’t think Baylie has an inferiority complex! Though she may have missed the underlying theme of the lesson, at least she didn’t start the paper with, “I done been good at swiming.”
I hope everyone had a Very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. I’m not one to make resolutions, but if you are, here’s hoping you don’t break em. And if your resolution is to use better grammar in 09, God Bless You. Spread the intelligence and join the cause to stomp out ignorance.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Screaming Goldfish
I wanted to post this anecdote Saturday night. It’s Monday and I think I am far enough removed from the event enough to write it objectively. Probably not, though. You’ll be shocked to find out that Casey threw a full blown conniption fit. It was one of her best. If her fit were a college football game, it would be an instant classic. It all started b/c we were invited to a birthday party for the 3 year old son of one of Corey’s co-workers. I say we…but let’s be honest, we all know that were it not for those 3 little angels, we wouldn’t have been invited to spend a Saturday night fighting 4 to 9 year olds for prize tickets at Chuck E Cheese. Truth be known, we were used for our kids. It happens all the time and it happens to all of us. You know what I am talking about. We are ALL guilty of it. Parents invite their friends that have kids to their kid’s birthday party. Nevermind that the kids don’t anymore know each other than they know who the New Kids On The Block are. And it doesn’t matter if the kids are boy or girl, black or white, rich or poor, ugly or cute (you know you were thinking it). As long as your kids are within a 5 year age range of the birthday child, you get invited. They want their kids to feel like they have a bunch of new friends who all of the sudden care that it is their birthday. But the kids don’t care. They are just there for the cake and ice cream. And party favors (If you want to really piss the parents off who you invite to the party, give away Goldfish as party favors. Thanks Jenee). So, as you could expect, we are in high demand. People need us....err our 3 kids. We raise the friend tally by 3 when we walk in the door. (And the noise level by at least 3 decibels.)
But that is not why I had to wait at least 48 hours to publicly record what took place at 1310 Canadian Street. No, that honor goes to sweet little Casey. Big surprise, huh? From the moment she woke up from her nap on Saturday afternoon, she was unbearable. And that’s putting it lightly. Nothing would satisfy her. She didn’t want anything to do with anybody. She didn’t want anybody talking to her. She didn’t want anybody looking at her. She didn’t want anybody even THINKING about looking at her. It got to a point, I had enough. I told her that if she didn’t stop acting the way she was, she was NOT going to the party (which would mean I would get to stay home with her, and while we’re being candid, I didn’t really want to go to that freaking party anyway. And, at this point, it was only about 3:30 in the afternoon and the party wasn’t until 6. So I liked my chances.). Well just the sheer mention of the possibility of her not getting to go completely set her off. She started jumping and stomping and yelling, “I WANT TO GO TO THE PARTY.” As you can see, my motivational tactics are brilliant! Very influential. My words are so profound…okay so I scrap the motivational ploy and resort to physical violence. I snatch her up and spank her. I know it was effective b/c it was one of those cries where her mouth was open, her eyes were closed and her face turned Razorback red, but nothing came out of her mouth. You know the one. The hesitation cry. You know it’s coming, it just takes a second. The calm before the storm. Then all hell breaks loose and every dog in the neighborhood starts howling and yelling in response…or maybe its capitulation. Anyway, she went to her room and calmed down eventually. The time comes to get ready to leave and Corey is getting her ready. Corey asked Casey to put her shoes on. All of the sudden, she became completely incapable of putting on a pair of shoes and let everyone in ear shot know she was not going to even try. The simple phrase, “I CAN’T!!” has become a source of content for me around our house. And she apparently likes to content me (whatever that means). Well that was it. She was not going to the party. I could have cut her right arm off without any anesthetic and she wouldn’t have screamed any louder than when I told her she wasn’t going. I didn’t really care. I have a high tolerance for ear-piercing bawling if it is a result of me depriving one of my children of joy. You know me, I just love torturing my children. Nothing gets me more excited. I love it. (You picked up on the sarcasm yet?) Well Corey, Baylie and Drew were in the car and ready to go. Corey looks at Baylie and she is in tears. The big fat alligator variety. Baylie cannot stand that she is going to the party and that Casey is upset, in trouble and not going. So Corey starts crying. Baylie starts getting out and says she doesn’t want to go to the party and Corey starts to follow her. All the while, Drew is in the back seat, still buckled and waiting patiently. He looks at Corey and says, “Do I have to go inside?”(Someone said something about cake and ice cream and party favors and Chuck E Cheese. He didn’t care who was going and who was staying-or whose party it was, for that matter. If he had to drive himself, he was going to that party!) When Baylie came in, I convinced her it was her duty as a big sister to go to the party and show Casey that you get rewarded for being good. So off they went. Casey went nuts when they left again, but after about 5 minutes, she was fine. We sat and watched a movie and ate pretzels and drank chocolate milk. It was a pretty enjoyable evening. About half way through the movie, she turned to me and said, “Daddy, I was being a bad girl so I didn’t get to go to the party. Next time I am going to be a good girl so I can go to the party.” Praise Jesus!! She can be cute and precious when she wants to be. At some point though, she’s gonna realize that she is not gonna get her way. She’ll learn eventually that it ends with me winning. Always. And the sooner she figures that out, the better off we will ALL be.
But that is not why I had to wait at least 48 hours to publicly record what took place at 1310 Canadian Street. No, that honor goes to sweet little Casey. Big surprise, huh? From the moment she woke up from her nap on Saturday afternoon, she was unbearable. And that’s putting it lightly. Nothing would satisfy her. She didn’t want anything to do with anybody. She didn’t want anybody talking to her. She didn’t want anybody looking at her. She didn’t want anybody even THINKING about looking at her. It got to a point, I had enough. I told her that if she didn’t stop acting the way she was, she was NOT going to the party (which would mean I would get to stay home with her, and while we’re being candid, I didn’t really want to go to that freaking party anyway. And, at this point, it was only about 3:30 in the afternoon and the party wasn’t until 6. So I liked my chances.). Well just the sheer mention of the possibility of her not getting to go completely set her off. She started jumping and stomping and yelling, “I WANT TO GO TO THE PARTY.” As you can see, my motivational tactics are brilliant! Very influential. My words are so profound…okay so I scrap the motivational ploy and resort to physical violence. I snatch her up and spank her. I know it was effective b/c it was one of those cries where her mouth was open, her eyes were closed and her face turned Razorback red, but nothing came out of her mouth. You know the one. The hesitation cry. You know it’s coming, it just takes a second. The calm before the storm. Then all hell breaks loose and every dog in the neighborhood starts howling and yelling in response…or maybe its capitulation. Anyway, she went to her room and calmed down eventually. The time comes to get ready to leave and Corey is getting her ready. Corey asked Casey to put her shoes on. All of the sudden, she became completely incapable of putting on a pair of shoes and let everyone in ear shot know she was not going to even try. The simple phrase, “I CAN’T!!” has become a source of content for me around our house. And she apparently likes to content me (whatever that means). Well that was it. She was not going to the party. I could have cut her right arm off without any anesthetic and she wouldn’t have screamed any louder than when I told her she wasn’t going. I didn’t really care. I have a high tolerance for ear-piercing bawling if it is a result of me depriving one of my children of joy. You know me, I just love torturing my children. Nothing gets me more excited. I love it. (You picked up on the sarcasm yet?) Well Corey, Baylie and Drew were in the car and ready to go. Corey looks at Baylie and she is in tears. The big fat alligator variety. Baylie cannot stand that she is going to the party and that Casey is upset, in trouble and not going. So Corey starts crying. Baylie starts getting out and says she doesn’t want to go to the party and Corey starts to follow her. All the while, Drew is in the back seat, still buckled and waiting patiently. He looks at Corey and says, “Do I have to go inside?”(Someone said something about cake and ice cream and party favors and Chuck E Cheese. He didn’t care who was going and who was staying-or whose party it was, for that matter. If he had to drive himself, he was going to that party!) When Baylie came in, I convinced her it was her duty as a big sister to go to the party and show Casey that you get rewarded for being good. So off they went. Casey went nuts when they left again, but after about 5 minutes, she was fine. We sat and watched a movie and ate pretzels and drank chocolate milk. It was a pretty enjoyable evening. About half way through the movie, she turned to me and said, “Daddy, I was being a bad girl so I didn’t get to go to the party. Next time I am going to be a good girl so I can go to the party.” Praise Jesus!! She can be cute and precious when she wants to be. At some point though, she’s gonna realize that she is not gonna get her way. She’ll learn eventually that it ends with me winning. Always. And the sooner she figures that out, the better off we will ALL be.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Tis The Season?!
4:59:54, :55, :56, :57, :58, :59…..5:00 am!! The Wal-Mart sales associates tear off the black cling wrap and all hell breaks loose. Imagine, if you weren’t there (and some of you probably were), grown men and women pushing and shoving each other to grab handfuls of anything from $2 DVDs to a $299 Nintendo Wii, Digital photo frames and 4gb flash drives. There was yelling and screaming and I swear I saw a sales associate get swallowed by a sea of angry women fighting over $4 children’s sweat suits. If I didn’t know better, I would have sworn there were free crack rocks at the bottom of the product displays. This was my first Black Friday (why do we capitalize it like it is an official nationally observed holiday) experience so I was somewhat mesmerized by the insanity that was playing out. Then I remembered that we were there with a list and on a mission and it wasn’t to be a spectator in this fight for parent of the year. So I took a deep breath, made sure I had good traction with my shoes, told Corey to cover me and I went in. I could see the pile of Hanna Montana guitar/action figure combos dwindling by the millisecond. There was no time for timidity. I dove in and got what I went for, along with some things I didn’t want; namely an elbow to the ribcage, a smashed foot and a glare that would burn a hole through double pane glass from a lady who didn’t even want one of those stupid Hanna Montana guitar/action figure combos! It was absolutely nuts. I’m sure most of you heard about the Wal-Mart associate in New York who was trampled to death from, quote “out-of-control” shoppers (Talk about your all time understatements). What was the most disheartening about the whole scenario was that one of the shoppers was belligerent and furious and refused to leave when the store announced it was closing because of the death. She must have been that woman by the Hanna Montana guitars’ cousin.
Don’t ask why I went. It’s irrelevant. It really doesn’t matter. Really. OKAY!! I’ll tell you. Why else would I get up at 3 in the morning to be at Kohl’s by 4, Wal-Mart by 5, Home Depot by 6 and Target immediately following? Just to get a list of gifts so we could save $250 and lose valuable sleep that takes 4 days to recover from? Why? You know why! So at 6:30 on Christmas morning our children can run down the stairs with sleepy in their eyes and giddiness in their hearts. So they can turn the corner and experience pure unadulterated joy because some arthritic fat guy in a red suit landed 8 reindeer on our roof, somehow fit down our narrow soot covered chimney without setting off the alarm, ate all the rice krispie treats and drank the room temperature milk, managed to not make a sound while he left presents under the tree and left in the blink of an eye. I can just see it now. They will be so excited they won’t be able to see straight. They won’t be able to stop talking about what “Santa” brought them. They will want to rip into every one of their toys and play with them like it is the last toy on earth. They’ll run to their stockings and dump them out on the floor and rummage through the candy and rinky-dink toys “Santa” thought they just HAD to have. Then at approximately 6:37 it will all be over and we will be sitting around looking at each other wondering what the crap we do for the next 5 hours until we go to the grandparent’s house and do it all over again! All this hype and build up for about 7 minutes of insanity. I don’t know about you, but I CANNOT wait!
So that’s why I was up at 3 in the morning the Friday after Thanksgiving doing my part to put retailers back on the black side of the bottom line. Overall it wasn’t that bad. Corey and I kept a pretty good attitude and had I not been with my wife, I wouldn’t have had nearly as good a time. However, I wouldn’t necessarily recommend it to any of you. If you can afford to buy your gifts either before or after Black Friday, do it. If you can’t, make a list, map out your plan of attack, stick to your list and attack strategy and invest in an athletic support cup (for the male readers, obviously). And if a stocky lady with short brown hair wearing glasses and a gray sweatshirt gets in your way, watch out, she means business.
Don’t ask why I went. It’s irrelevant. It really doesn’t matter. Really. OKAY!! I’ll tell you. Why else would I get up at 3 in the morning to be at Kohl’s by 4, Wal-Mart by 5, Home Depot by 6 and Target immediately following? Just to get a list of gifts so we could save $250 and lose valuable sleep that takes 4 days to recover from? Why? You know why! So at 6:30 on Christmas morning our children can run down the stairs with sleepy in their eyes and giddiness in their hearts. So they can turn the corner and experience pure unadulterated joy because some arthritic fat guy in a red suit landed 8 reindeer on our roof, somehow fit down our narrow soot covered chimney without setting off the alarm, ate all the rice krispie treats and drank the room temperature milk, managed to not make a sound while he left presents under the tree and left in the blink of an eye. I can just see it now. They will be so excited they won’t be able to see straight. They won’t be able to stop talking about what “Santa” brought them. They will want to rip into every one of their toys and play with them like it is the last toy on earth. They’ll run to their stockings and dump them out on the floor and rummage through the candy and rinky-dink toys “Santa” thought they just HAD to have. Then at approximately 6:37 it will all be over and we will be sitting around looking at each other wondering what the crap we do for the next 5 hours until we go to the grandparent’s house and do it all over again! All this hype and build up for about 7 minutes of insanity. I don’t know about you, but I CANNOT wait!
So that’s why I was up at 3 in the morning the Friday after Thanksgiving doing my part to put retailers back on the black side of the bottom line. Overall it wasn’t that bad. Corey and I kept a pretty good attitude and had I not been with my wife, I wouldn’t have had nearly as good a time. However, I wouldn’t necessarily recommend it to any of you. If you can afford to buy your gifts either before or after Black Friday, do it. If you can’t, make a list, map out your plan of attack, stick to your list and attack strategy and invest in an athletic support cup (for the male readers, obviously). And if a stocky lady with short brown hair wearing glasses and a gray sweatshirt gets in your way, watch out, she means business.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Too Much Time On My Hands
Well our season ended abruptly Saturday in Mesquite. We lost to Waco Midway and shouldn't have. We had dominated every statistical category throughout the game but were still behind. We KNEW at half that we were gonna win. Never a doubt in anyone's mind. The score was 14-10 Midway with about 2 minutes to go in the 3rd quarter when all hell broke loose. With Midway's drive having stalled on an errant pass into the endzone on 3rd and 13, one of our corners felt like the official should have called pass interference on the WR. The problem wasn't that he FELT the official should have made the call, the problem was he voiced it to the official and probably said some things that weren't particularly nice b/c the official threw him out of the game. One of our D-Linemen took umbrage to the official throwing one of his buddies out and he let the ref know it. He in turn got the hook and a one way ticket off the field. Well, the fun didn't stop there. Our ball boy threw the ball in to the official, the same one who just tossed two of our players, and it apparently had a little too much on it, b/c the official THREW THE BALL BOY OUT OF THE GAME!! (Oh, by the way, the said ball boy just happens to be our head coach's son) I cannot make this stuff up. So anyway, instead of 4th and 13 and a 40 yard field goal attempt into the wind to make it 17-10 at worst, they get the ball first and goal and inevitably score a touchdown. And the rest, as you all know, is history. As a matter of fact that may be the first time in the history of football that 2 players and a ball boy were thrown out of the game by the same referee and in a matter of about 90 seconds. What a joke.
So, needless to say, I have a little time on my hands. Too much as a matter of fact. We are out of school all week (which is ridiculous, b/c we go to school until June 10th). Well the honey-do's have apparently been piling up during the season, because after one day of hanging pictures, re-arranging our bedroom, relocating furniture throughout the house, cleaning out the fireplace, washing and folding laundry and keeping our 3 angels from killing each other all day, I am contemplating taking on a second job or start drinking something stiffer than Corona Light. I'll let you know.
Evidence that kids do say the darndest things:
Drew stayed with my sister and his 4 year old cousin, Eli, over the weekend instead of going to the game. When Corey went to pick him up, the following conversation took place between two 4 year olds and a grown woman:
Drew: Mom, when I was sleeping too long at Eli's house, I accidentally pee'd in Eli's bed.
Corey: Why did you do that?
Eli: Yeah, why did you do that again?
Drew: I didn't do it AGAIN, I just did it one time.
Eli: I guess your peanuts (their term for their man parts) didn't tell you to wake up and go potty.
Drew: Why would they do that? They can't even talk.
Eli: Oh.
Today as I was elbow deep in boxes trying to find our Christmas decorations in the garage, I overheard the following conversation between Baylie and Drew.
Drew: Hey Baylie, did you know that Adam and Ebe were in the Garden of Even.
Baylie: Drew...it's Eve and they were in the Garden of Eden.
Drew: Yeah. And they ate from the tree of knowledge.
Baylie: Yeah, but God didn't want them too.
Drew: Yeah, but Ebe...uh Eve made Adam eat it because the devil told them too. (at least he knows at a young age that Eve is the root of man's sinful nature)
Baylie: I know.
Drew: That's called sin, when you do something the devil tells you to. That's sin Baylie.
Baylie: Yeah, we should always do what God tells us to.
Drew: Hey Baylie, if you told me to eat an apple from the tree of knowledge and God didn't want me too, I wouldn't do it because that would be a sin.
Baylie: (No response. Probably wasn't real sure how to respond to that.)
So anyway, here are some pictures of the little evangelists.
Don't let those smiles fool you. Especially the one on the right.
Some people say he resembles me. I will call him...Mini-Me
Thankfully they look like their momma!
The root of my happiness.
Uh-huh. We tried to tell you. Those pictures above...that's what you see. This is our world. Every morning it's something with her. This day, it was breakfast. You see that bag of Cocoa Puffs?"I DON'T WANT THAT MUCH!" That means there weren't enough in there for her!
I gotta go, Mr. Corona is trapped in the fridge and wants out. And you know me, always looking to help a brother out.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Jesus Loves The Little Children.
I know it has been a while, so keep your cute little comments to yourself. Football season isn’t exactly prime blogging time. (By the way, we finished the regular season 8-1 and are playing in the first round of the playoffs against Whitehouse this Friday night. Go Tigers!) Tonight, though, Corey seems to find it necessary to torture me with an episode of “The Hills” that she has recorded. A man can only take so much of something that has absolutely NO substantial value. I was on the verge of gouging my eyes out with a butter knife. On my way to the silverware drawer, I passed the computer and decided to blog, instead. Seriously, has anyone seen that stupid show? It is about NOTHING. The girls on that show are about as intelligent as an inbred retard from Crossett, Arkansas (trust me, they’re stupid). And they are about as interesting as an 80 year old Harvard professor giving a lecture on quantum physics. The show is about people who are famous for being famous. What the….? If you watch that show, stop. If you don’t watch it, don’t start. It is merely evidence as to the dumbing down of our society. What happened to classics like Cheers, Dukes of Hazzard, Sanford and Son, The Cosby Show…you get the picture. There are no shows like that on anymore. And if it is up to my wife, they won’t EVER be back on. Thanks a lot MTV.
Anyway, enough about ignorance. Let’s talk about me. Just kidding. Let’s talk about Drew. And how much he is like his daddy. We got a report from his school that Drew had been kissing some of the girls at school. The report didn’t come from one of his teachers, it came in the form of his older sister tattling on him (Which, by the way is one of our 2 deadly sins. The other one being no whining.) So I asked Drew if he had been kissing some of the girls at school. He looked at me and said, “Yes.” I asked him why he was kissing the girls at school. He said, “I don’t know. They didn’t ask me to, I just kissed them.” Now here is where a father is at a conundrum. You see, I have 2 daughters as well. I don’t want some snotty-nosed kid running around kissing on my girls. But it is different with boys. Kissing on girls is better than the alternative. A LOT BETTER. Plus, he can’t help it, he takes after his daddy. And if you only have girls, you understand my stance on this. And if you only have boys, you will never understand my opinion on that end of it, but I know you understand my happiness in his selection as to which gender was the target of his affection. So, what do I do? I told him not to go around school kissing the girls (I couldn’t let it get out of hand). He said okay and acted like it was no big deal. Well the next day we asked our sitter, Amanda, about it (who, by the way, has been a blessing from God. Our kids love her and she loves our kids. She picks up Baylie from school, takes her to the child care center where our other ones are and where she works part-time, and she brings them all home after school.). She laughed and said that Drew walked into school that day and announced, “My dad said I can’t kiss anymore girls at school…..but he didn’t say they couldn’t kiss me.” Amanda said the girls chased Drew around all day kissing and hugging him. He learned at a young age to use reverse psychology on them and play hard to get. That’s the kind of stuff you don’t figure out until WAY later on in life. That’s my boy.
All of this would have never come to fruition had Baylie not spilled the beans on her brother. I didn’t get too mad at her though. She can’t help it. It’s in her nature. She is the most thoughtful kid I know. I don’t know a lot of kids, but she is definitely the most thoughtful. I’m sure it because she is the oldest, but she is very protective and motherly towards Drew and Casey. She hates, absolutely HATES, for the little ones to get a spanking or get in trouble. It kills her. She is brought to near tears when they are upset. If she has something that they want, she gives it to them (we fuss at her and tell her not to give in to them, but she doesn’t care). If they want to sit where she is sitting, she gets up and moves. If they want the cup she is drinking out of, she gives it to them. She helps me and Corey with them all the time. She gets them something to eat or drink if we don’t want to get up for the 79th time to get it. She helps getting them ready in the morning. She tries to console them when they are sad or mad. They know it and they take advantage of her all the time, especially Casey (imagine that). She is very sweet and sensitive toward other people’s thoughts and feelings and especially those of her brother and sister. I know that is a good trait, but I don’t want her to be a push over. So Corey and I try to talk to her about telling them “no” sometimes. Hasn’t worked yet. Well, somehow, the subject of having another baby came up with her and Corey. (I’m still trying to figure out how that subject just “comes up”. It doesn’t. You have to be thinking about it. Apparently Corey has been thinking about it. That’s Great! Of course, if you watch The Hills long enough, your mind starts to wander b/c they never say anything useful. So I figure that’s where it started. Damn you MTV!) Back to the story. Corey asked Baylie what she thought about having another baby. Baylie looked at her with an are-you-kidding-me look and made a sound something like, “fmphnsh”. Corey asked what that meant. Baylie looked at her and, as serious as she could be, she told Corey, “I just don’t think I can handle another kid right now. Maybe when Casey gets a little bit older and starts acting a little better. But not right now.” I FEEL YA SISTER!!
Speaking of that little sweet innocent one. You know…the one who discourages me and Corey from repopulating the earth with beautiful, intelligent babies. Yeah that one. Corey was at Smokey Joe’s BBQ on kid’s night with her parents (Tuesday nights. One free kids meal with the purchase of an adult meal!) They had one of those blow up slides that have a retractor beam in them that sucks parents directly off I-30 and right into the restaraunt. You know the ones that are about 2 stories high that you see at used car lots at the end of the month when they are trying to clear out those six gold 2003 Ford Taurus’s they have left on the lot. Anyway, Corey and her parents were enjoying a nice adult conversation and the kids were frolicking up and down the slide. As East Texans say, they were having a good ol’ time. A Kodak moment. Memories that will last a lifetime. You get the picture. Then it was time to leave. Well, not according to Casey’s watch. According to her estimation, they still had a LONG time before it was time to go. But Momma don’t play that. Momma said it was time to go. So, it was time to go. That didn’t mean Casey had to like it. She threw herself down in the parking lot, took her shoes off and threw them across the pavement. Corey stayed calm, looked at Casey told her to pick her shoes up and get in the car. Casey wasn’t trying to hear that crap. She looked at Corey and yelled at her, “No. I don’t want to go home. I don’t want to get my shoes. I want to stay and play.” Corey snatched her up by one arm and drug her to the car. That just pissed Casey off even more. She is LIVID at this point. Corey sets her in the car seat and buckles her in. Casey doesn’t want to buckle in her car seat. Corey knows this because Casey told her, in her own sweet little way, “I don’t want to buckle in my car seat. I WANT my shoes on now. I don’t want to go home.” Corey doesn’t give in and walks around and gets in the car. When she gets around to the door, Baylie and Drew are yelling at Corey and Casey is still screaming. Corey turned around and saw that Casey’s fingers had gotten shut in the door. The problem is she was already so out of control, the inflexion in her cry never changed b/c it was already as loud as it could possibly be. Come to find out, the tips of her fingers just got pinched and she wasn’t hurt too bad. She’s lucky Corey was there and I wasn’t. She would have been asking to shut her fingers in the door after I got a hold of her. Later that week, we got a letter from Smokey Joe’s asking us not to come back because some of the other children had been traumatized by that “psychotic devil child”. Not really but I expect that letter any day now.
Anyway, enough about ignorance. Let’s talk about me. Just kidding. Let’s talk about Drew. And how much he is like his daddy. We got a report from his school that Drew had been kissing some of the girls at school. The report didn’t come from one of his teachers, it came in the form of his older sister tattling on him (Which, by the way is one of our 2 deadly sins. The other one being no whining.) So I asked Drew if he had been kissing some of the girls at school. He looked at me and said, “Yes.” I asked him why he was kissing the girls at school. He said, “I don’t know. They didn’t ask me to, I just kissed them.” Now here is where a father is at a conundrum. You see, I have 2 daughters as well. I don’t want some snotty-nosed kid running around kissing on my girls. But it is different with boys. Kissing on girls is better than the alternative. A LOT BETTER. Plus, he can’t help it, he takes after his daddy. And if you only have girls, you understand my stance on this. And if you only have boys, you will never understand my opinion on that end of it, but I know you understand my happiness in his selection as to which gender was the target of his affection. So, what do I do? I told him not to go around school kissing the girls (I couldn’t let it get out of hand). He said okay and acted like it was no big deal. Well the next day we asked our sitter, Amanda, about it (who, by the way, has been a blessing from God. Our kids love her and she loves our kids. She picks up Baylie from school, takes her to the child care center where our other ones are and where she works part-time, and she brings them all home after school.). She laughed and said that Drew walked into school that day and announced, “My dad said I can’t kiss anymore girls at school…..but he didn’t say they couldn’t kiss me.” Amanda said the girls chased Drew around all day kissing and hugging him. He learned at a young age to use reverse psychology on them and play hard to get. That’s the kind of stuff you don’t figure out until WAY later on in life. That’s my boy.
All of this would have never come to fruition had Baylie not spilled the beans on her brother. I didn’t get too mad at her though. She can’t help it. It’s in her nature. She is the most thoughtful kid I know. I don’t know a lot of kids, but she is definitely the most thoughtful. I’m sure it because she is the oldest, but she is very protective and motherly towards Drew and Casey. She hates, absolutely HATES, for the little ones to get a spanking or get in trouble. It kills her. She is brought to near tears when they are upset. If she has something that they want, she gives it to them (we fuss at her and tell her not to give in to them, but she doesn’t care). If they want to sit where she is sitting, she gets up and moves. If they want the cup she is drinking out of, she gives it to them. She helps me and Corey with them all the time. She gets them something to eat or drink if we don’t want to get up for the 79th time to get it. She helps getting them ready in the morning. She tries to console them when they are sad or mad. They know it and they take advantage of her all the time, especially Casey (imagine that). She is very sweet and sensitive toward other people’s thoughts and feelings and especially those of her brother and sister. I know that is a good trait, but I don’t want her to be a push over. So Corey and I try to talk to her about telling them “no” sometimes. Hasn’t worked yet. Well, somehow, the subject of having another baby came up with her and Corey. (I’m still trying to figure out how that subject just “comes up”. It doesn’t. You have to be thinking about it. Apparently Corey has been thinking about it. That’s Great! Of course, if you watch The Hills long enough, your mind starts to wander b/c they never say anything useful. So I figure that’s where it started. Damn you MTV!) Back to the story. Corey asked Baylie what she thought about having another baby. Baylie looked at her with an are-you-kidding-me look and made a sound something like, “fmphnsh”. Corey asked what that meant. Baylie looked at her and, as serious as she could be, she told Corey, “I just don’t think I can handle another kid right now. Maybe when Casey gets a little bit older and starts acting a little better. But not right now.” I FEEL YA SISTER!!
Speaking of that little sweet innocent one. You know…the one who discourages me and Corey from repopulating the earth with beautiful, intelligent babies. Yeah that one. Corey was at Smokey Joe’s BBQ on kid’s night with her parents (Tuesday nights. One free kids meal with the purchase of an adult meal!) They had one of those blow up slides that have a retractor beam in them that sucks parents directly off I-30 and right into the restaraunt. You know the ones that are about 2 stories high that you see at used car lots at the end of the month when they are trying to clear out those six gold 2003 Ford Taurus’s they have left on the lot. Anyway, Corey and her parents were enjoying a nice adult conversation and the kids were frolicking up and down the slide. As East Texans say, they were having a good ol’ time. A Kodak moment. Memories that will last a lifetime. You get the picture. Then it was time to leave. Well, not according to Casey’s watch. According to her estimation, they still had a LONG time before it was time to go. But Momma don’t play that. Momma said it was time to go. So, it was time to go. That didn’t mean Casey had to like it. She threw herself down in the parking lot, took her shoes off and threw them across the pavement. Corey stayed calm, looked at Casey told her to pick her shoes up and get in the car. Casey wasn’t trying to hear that crap. She looked at Corey and yelled at her, “No. I don’t want to go home. I don’t want to get my shoes. I want to stay and play.” Corey snatched her up by one arm and drug her to the car. That just pissed Casey off even more. She is LIVID at this point. Corey sets her in the car seat and buckles her in. Casey doesn’t want to buckle in her car seat. Corey knows this because Casey told her, in her own sweet little way, “I don’t want to buckle in my car seat. I WANT my shoes on now. I don’t want to go home.” Corey doesn’t give in and walks around and gets in the car. When she gets around to the door, Baylie and Drew are yelling at Corey and Casey is still screaming. Corey turned around and saw that Casey’s fingers had gotten shut in the door. The problem is she was already so out of control, the inflexion in her cry never changed b/c it was already as loud as it could possibly be. Come to find out, the tips of her fingers just got pinched and she wasn’t hurt too bad. She’s lucky Corey was there and I wasn’t. She would have been asking to shut her fingers in the door after I got a hold of her. Later that week, we got a letter from Smokey Joe’s asking us not to come back because some of the other children had been traumatized by that “psychotic devil child”. Not really but I expect that letter any day now.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
The Drew Man Cometh
Sometimes we let Baylie and Drew stay up during nap time to either watch a movie or color or draw or pretty much anything that consists of being quiet and letting that little-sweet-cute innocent one we have sleep. Because if that little one doesn’t get a nap; we need a 6 pack of something potent to get us through the evening. Anyway, this particular time was going just fine (Casey asleep, Baylie and Drew watching a movie upstairs in our room. Emphasis on CASEY ASLEEP) until we heard a thud, followed by what sounded like a herd of wildebeests trampling down the staircase. I got up and met them at the bottom of the stairs to find Drew crying and Baylie already pleading her case (a usual sign of guilt). They both started yelling and simultaneously telling their version of the ruckus. After sending them to their respective rooms for about 10 minutes to calm down, they came back down stairs and I got Baylie’s side of the story: Baylie “accidentally” pushed Drew off the bed. He bounced up and told Baylie, “That was fun, do it again”. What the little Einstein didn’t know is that he wouldn’t fall the exact same way and land exactly like he did the first time. As a matter of fact, he fell right on his head. At that point it was no longer his IDEA, it was Baylie’s FAULT. The following conversation ensued:
Dad: “Did you tell Baylie to push you off the bed?”
Drew: “Not the first time.”
Baylie: “It was an accident.”
Drew: “Nuh uh, she did it on purpose.”
Baylie: “No I didn’t”
Dad: “HEY!! DID. YOU. TELL. BAYLIE. TO. PUSH. YOU. OFF. THE. BED?” (sometimes I have to slow down for him)
Drew: “No.”
Baylie: (In tears) “Yes he did. I PROMISE.”
Drew: “Not the first time!”
Dad: “Did you the second time.”
Drew: “Yes”
Dad: “Why did you ask Baylie to push you off the bed.”
Drew: “I don’t know.”
Dad: “Was it fun the first time?”
Drew: “Yes, but I didn’t ask her to the first time. She just pushed me.”
Dad: (On the verge of strangling the little genius) “I understand that, but did you ask her to push you the SECOND time?”
Drew: (With finger in mouth) “Mmmmhhmmm.”
Dad: “Well that’s what you get then. You asked her to push you and she did. What did you expect?”
Mom: (Interjecting her motherly wisdom) “You shouldn’t have told her to push you.”
Drew: “I didn’t tell her to push me the first time.”
That dude was bound and determined to get her in trouble!
But that little guy does love his sisters and sometimes he shows it better than other times. With the start of the school year, Corey and I remembered an instance when he found a good way to express his adoration for his older sister. (Usually it is in the form of repeating EVERY word she says, pestering her to the point of punching him and both of them getting in trouble. He has a ways to go in learning how to deal with females. But, if he sticks with me, he’ll be just fine!!) Anyway, back to our story.
When we were leaving Nacogdoches, Baylie was really sad that she was leaving her school. She loved her teachers, her friends, her principal and everything about Raquet Elementary. We knew she would be fine in her new school and we tried to pump her up and get her ready for her last day. We thought she would do fine and for the most part, she did. Well Drew just happened to be with me when we picked her up. And just as we expected, Baylie was pretty sad. She was fighting off tears. Each of her classmates had made her a going away card. She was sitting in the back of the van beside Drew. She started reading some of the things her classmates wrote to her and it made her even sadder. He could tell that she was upset so he reached down and grabbed a 4-leaf clover that he had made at pre-school. (The day he made it, he said it was for me; he left it in the car and the next day told Corey that he made it for her, and now it was for Baylie! That little kiss-a*#.) He handed it to her and said, “Here Baylie, I made this at school. It’s for you. It’s a shamrock and it will make you lucky at your new school.
He’s more like his daddy than I thought!
We play our first game this week, at John Tyler. It’s nice to finally be at a place where the talk is about how much we SHOULD win by. Not just hoping that we keep it close! Corey is giddy because she can pull up the guide and scroll far enough over to see the college football listings and check out the matchups. She loves college football. She will sit and watch a good game even if I am not home! MY JOB IS DONE! She has come a long way since that first date when I swept her off her football-deficient feet. (That’s a story for another post). I’m so proud I could kiss her just thinking about it. As a matter of fact, I think I will. Right now. Good Night.
Dad: “Did you tell Baylie to push you off the bed?”
Drew: “Not the first time.”
Baylie: “It was an accident.”
Drew: “Nuh uh, she did it on purpose.”
Baylie: “No I didn’t”
Dad: “HEY!! DID. YOU. TELL. BAYLIE. TO. PUSH. YOU. OFF. THE. BED?” (sometimes I have to slow down for him)
Drew: “No.”
Baylie: (In tears) “Yes he did. I PROMISE.”
Drew: “Not the first time!”
Dad: “Did you the second time.”
Drew: “Yes”
Dad: “Why did you ask Baylie to push you off the bed.”
Drew: “I don’t know.”
Dad: “Was it fun the first time?”
Drew: “Yes, but I didn’t ask her to the first time. She just pushed me.”
Dad: (On the verge of strangling the little genius) “I understand that, but did you ask her to push you the SECOND time?”
Drew: (With finger in mouth) “Mmmmhhmmm.”
Dad: “Well that’s what you get then. You asked her to push you and she did. What did you expect?”
Mom: (Interjecting her motherly wisdom) “You shouldn’t have told her to push you.”
Drew: “I didn’t tell her to push me the first time.”
That dude was bound and determined to get her in trouble!
But that little guy does love his sisters and sometimes he shows it better than other times. With the start of the school year, Corey and I remembered an instance when he found a good way to express his adoration for his older sister. (Usually it is in the form of repeating EVERY word she says, pestering her to the point of punching him and both of them getting in trouble. He has a ways to go in learning how to deal with females. But, if he sticks with me, he’ll be just fine!!) Anyway, back to our story.
When we were leaving Nacogdoches, Baylie was really sad that she was leaving her school. She loved her teachers, her friends, her principal and everything about Raquet Elementary. We knew she would be fine in her new school and we tried to pump her up and get her ready for her last day. We thought she would do fine and for the most part, she did. Well Drew just happened to be with me when we picked her up. And just as we expected, Baylie was pretty sad. She was fighting off tears. Each of her classmates had made her a going away card. She was sitting in the back of the van beside Drew. She started reading some of the things her classmates wrote to her and it made her even sadder. He could tell that she was upset so he reached down and grabbed a 4-leaf clover that he had made at pre-school. (The day he made it, he said it was for me; he left it in the car and the next day told Corey that he made it for her, and now it was for Baylie! That little kiss-a*#.) He handed it to her and said, “Here Baylie, I made this at school. It’s for you. It’s a shamrock and it will make you lucky at your new school.
He’s more like his daddy than I thought!
We play our first game this week, at John Tyler. It’s nice to finally be at a place where the talk is about how much we SHOULD win by. Not just hoping that we keep it close! Corey is giddy because she can pull up the guide and scroll far enough over to see the college football listings and check out the matchups. She loves college football. She will sit and watch a good game even if I am not home! MY JOB IS DONE! She has come a long way since that first date when I swept her off her football-deficient feet. (That’s a story for another post). I’m so proud I could kiss her just thinking about it. As a matter of fact, I think I will. Right now. Good Night.
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