Summer

Being the type pf blogger that I am, I will wait an eternity (if it takes that) for something interesting to blog about before actually sitting down to write.

For instance, school ended for the boys about two weeks ago, but other than the fact that Boy Two cried for the rest of the day about how much he would miss it there wasn't much to say.

Also, the boys have learned how to play Battleship (either with each other or myself) and Boy One is actually pretty good.  Except that the little pieces have now been lost forever under Boy Two's bed and may never be recovered.  Another distraction down the drain.

I spent last week tirelessly working with said boys to help them gain confidence and their bikes, and now neither one needs the slightest help - they just trundle out to the driveway and ride in circles for hours at a time.

The boys have collectively lost fifteen teeth in the last two years: three of them in the last two weeks.  When Boy Two smiles at us it looks like his brother belted him.

Boy One's birthday was the first day of summer and, as I have for every birthday in the last four years, I cut and served the cake before I remembered to place the candles.  My children may end up in therapy because I just can't seem to remember this vital childhood staple.

See?  A lot of nothingness.  But we did have one incident that I thought to share.

Boy Two, having gained confidence on his bike, was riding circles around his seated brother on said brother's birthday, making smaller and smaller circles around him chanting "I'm not too close."

Until, fortuitously, the bicycle crashed into seated brother and ran over his head.  Poor Boy One.  On his birthday he's sporting tire tracks on the back of his neck and an inch-diameter chunk of flesh missing from his right eyebrow.

The offending bicycle has been removed from service until a proper court-martial can be conducted.

So much for my hoped-for quiet afternoons.

Can't Read My Poker Face

Even though I had decided not to mention it, I have since concluded that it's a story that needs to be remembered (mostly for its comic timing) and hence will record it here.  I've discovered that as soon as I write something down I promptly forget all about it and only remember when re-reading through old posts.  So has my brain become mush as I've aged.


Myself and some others were set to attend a memorial service on Saturday. 

Unfortunately, our driver was horridly ill with a virus and we left for the drive a little later than we'd planned.

Fortunately, the driver is fast and we shaved some time on the interstate, even catching up to some friends as they drove!

Unfortunately, it was mid afternoon and there were hungry people in the party.

Fortunately, we stopped at a classic burger drive in with terrific fries.

Unfortunately, the drive-in did not have a bathroom and some of us were forced to drive around an unfamiliar part of town looking for one.

Fortunately, with everyone sated, we drove to the service with twenty minutes to spare.

Unfortunately, we found out when we arrived that we were actually fifteen minutes late.

Fortunately, the family didn't seem overly upset with us for our mistimed arrival.

Unfortunately, the service had been held up until we arrived.

More unfortunately, some of us had anticipated having time to change clothes once we arrived and were mildly mortified to realize that would no longer be possible.

Most unfortunately, with a churchful of persons looking on (likely disdainfully; I don't know, I avoided eye-contact with everyone) we were led down the center aisle and seated in the front row.



I must admit that my poker face has gotten better because I don't believe my cheeks even flushed with the mortification that the situation called forth.

The Way to a Man's Heart

It is a truth universally acknowledged that when all else fails, the promise of food will undermine a man's firm resolve.

Women exposed this many years ago.  I believe Eve first demonstrated the theory to rancorous applause in the Garden.

And though as mothers we don't set out to teach our daughters the verity of this theology, even the littlest of girls inherently understand it's power.

Girl demonstrated this to my profound awe and amusement on Monday morning as she attempted to gain her brothers' compliance to play Tea Party.

It would have been a difficult win either way as neither of the boys is particularly fond of staging a soiree with Girl's dollies, and on this day they were much more interested in chasing one another around the house with Nerf guns - a happier inducement by far.

Girl attempted begging.  Bribery.  Threats.  Tears.  Extortion.  Promises.  Pleas.  Nothing chinked their firm resolve.

Until she brought out: the cookies.

I had purchased a box of cookie-shaped cold cereal for her occasional use in tea parties and she admirably put them to good use.  The boys animatedly set up the blanket and arranged the stuffed animals around themselves, and even gladly submitted to Girl's bossy 'rules' about proper behavior.  And all for the sake of a cookie.

I am sure Girl will remember this tactic and put it to good use in the future.