I funny

Although sometimes I really do think I'm funny, it wasn't me yelling it for 7 minutes in the car. 

I drive Chad to and from where his van pool meets every morning and afternoon-at least on the days I need the car.  It's about a 7 minute drive.  Well, on our way home yesterday Mooch started yelling non-sensical things at us.  He then would laugh at whatever joke he had just told.  Then he started yelling, "I funny."  He would then babble something again, laugh, and yell, "I funny." It was a cycle that could not be broken.  By the time we got home we were all giggling with him.  What do you know . . . he actually is pretty funny.

Bakery Rock

I've said it before and I'll say it again... I tend to associate music to memories.

So this morning while driving Chad to work at the crack of dawn-- dawn wasn't even remotely ready to crack at 4:30 this morning-- I was scanning through the radio stations.  I came across a familiar song and started singing along to it.  That's when I realized it was the good old classic rock station.

Before the year 2002, I wasn't a big fan.  Don't get me wrong, I love Queen as much as the next person.  But I wasn't exactly willing to listen to a classic rock radio station if I had a choice otherwise. 

Once upon a time, I really didn't have a choice otherwise.  I worked in the BYU-Idaho food services Bakery for three semesters and started--you guessed it-- at the crack of dawn.  Two of the full time bakers , Sean and Randy, started baking bread at 1 or 2 in the morning.  So when I got to work for my 3 hour shift they were already listening to the classic rock station and had been doing so for 5 hours.  Occasionally we'd mutiny and try to take over the radio.  But that would usually only last a song or two before Randy switched it back. It was so annoying at the time.

It's funny how now when I hear those songs I like them.  I don't know if I was slowly brainwashed or if I just developed a liking for classic rock.  Either way every time I hear these songs it puts a smile on my face and makes me think of one awesome job I had during school.  Mmmmm the bakery.....

four point eight nine

How to help your 4.89 year old to be opinionated and annoying:  

1. Help them to develop the right attitude.  They must understand that the best way to correct someone is to say phrases like, "Umm helllllooooo," or "Actually," with an attitude that implies the person they are speaking to is an absolute idiot or their mother.  He's also developed a lovely eye roll when he doesn't want to listen to me.  What the heck!?! He's only 4!

2. Teach them that the only reason they have to do chores is so that they can play computer games. We're developing a sense of entitlment at an early age.

3. They must learn early on that crying is the only way to respond when faced with something they do not like. Although they know that crying does not get them what they want-unless it’s a swift trip to timeout- they must always always cry.

Oh I've got more.  I love the kid but he's seriously driving me nuts right now! We're working on all of it.  But seriously is this normal?   I don't know where he's getting his material for the attitude.  But I'm going to blame Sponge Bob.  He and a few other cartoons have been officially banned from our home now.  Ahh so fun actually having to deal with a child with his own opinions!

Church Ball

So I've been playing me some Church Ball.  Don't ask me why I'm writing like that.  It just seemed appropriate when speaking about Church Basketball.  But the church ball is taking me back 10 years and not in a good way. 

I pretty much stink at basketball. Everyone expects that I can play because I'm tall and because my older brother, Trent, was a basketball phenom.  No really, after playing a game I had a teacher come up and ask "Isn't Trent your brother?" I think he was just checking to make sure that the reason I sucked at basketball was because I wasn't from the right family.  Ha!  Somehow I was a starter my freshmen and sophomore years.  I still don't understand that one. 

Anyways...

With Church ball, yet again I'm tall and expected to play with a certain level of basketball skills.  I can sort-of jump and I can catch a pass, but can I shoot the ball?  Not really.  Saturday, I shot one over the backboard and it was awesome!

I did totally stuff an old lady. And yes, I am proud of that.

Banana on your forehead

Cowboy has discovered knock knock jokes.  It's been going on for awhile now. At Joyschool they have snacktime.  Apparently, Cowboy has been busting out his knock knock jokes every time. All the other 3 and 4 year olds think he's hilarious and they all laugh at the jokes.  So my son his somewhat of a ham.  Really who didn't see this one coming?

His all time favorite joke goes a little something like this:

Cowboy: "Knock, knock."

Me: "Who's there?"

Cowboy: "Banana on your forehead!"

Yeah that is the entire joke.  

Then....

We were eating dinner the other night and what do I hear Mooch say?  "Knock, knock!" They then proceeded to laugh themselves silly.

Super heroes and a Jedi

The infamous reversible capes.

Literally the only picure I could get with both of their backs facing me. 

And here is the Jedi Master homself.

This one makes me laugh because technically he is batman and yet he's still trying to fly. 

Nothing says Merry Christmas better than a tetanus shot

I am an idiot.
No, really. I. am. a. big. idiot.
 In fact I would even say I am a moron. If you don't like stories about someone (me) injuring themselves, then I suggest you stop reading now. This post it full of self injuring.  Lots of moronic self infliction of wounds. No, really.

For part of the boys' Christmas I'm sewing them some reversable capes with Batman and Superman. Last night at about 9:30, I was apparently tired and should have stopped sewing.

I'm cruising along when there was a string in the way. Most normal people would take their foot of the sewing pedal. Since I am in fact a moron, I didn't. Suddenly the needle broke and I thought, "huh that sucks." Then I couldn't see the needle anywhere. That's when I realized  that it's sticking out of my left pointer finger. It wasn't just stuck it was bent like a fish hook through my finger.

Chad doesn't do well with blood, at all! He didn't want to take it out because it was going to hurt like a banshee. So I manned up and grabbed the tweezers from him. That is when I discovered it was already broken. So it came out easily enough. Thats when we realized there was a little chip still in there. So upon Dr. Dad's suggestion I get to leave it in there like a war veteran with shrapnel. I also had to sleep with my finger elevated. On top of that, I don't remember the last time I got a tetanus shot. Yeah that stunk. My arm is so stinking sore.
So I am an idiot. Somehow I managed to sew right over my finger.