A picture says a 1,007 words...

Crumb Snatcher #1 Speak

* The other night I lost my wallet in a public place. When I realized it. I stayed calm (tongue firmly planted in cheek.) We returned to the aforementioned place and Boy Child ran in to see if it was there while I searched the car... again. He came running out with it waving high over his head. When he jumped in the car I yelled, "Woo Hoo! Thank God!" Boy Child looked at me with shock and indignantly asked, "What am I?! ...chopped cheese??"

* Very late last night during my drive back from a big JBF planning day, Boy Child called. He was whispering. I realized several things at once. He was scared. He was the only one awake in the house. And I could not offer him any real comfort 100 miles away. I knew I'd never convince him to walk through the dark house clear to the back of the house and snuggle up to Daddy-O. So I suggested the next best thing - his big, bad, baby sister. Whom, by the way, had not been feeling well for most of the day. "Sweetie, how about if you slip in and sleep next to Girl Child until I get home?" "I can't Mommy. Her white cells will be fighting." Confused I clarified, "Did you say white cells?" "Yes. She's sick. Her cells'll be fighting her sickness all night long."
Well of course, silly Mommy. How'd I let that little fact slip my mind???

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Thank you for playing Good Cop/Bad Cop with me for the Crumbs much needed benefit Darlin'. I so hope and pray they don't need too much therapy when they are adults...if they make it that long. And totally changing the subject, I vote we purchase a Cop Costume for personal practice. Are you game?

Fact of the Day: Let there be light! Today 162 years ago Thomas Edison was born. He held more than 1,000 patents for all his inventions. There are 25+ smaller words that can be made with this one: INVENTOR. How many can you come up with?

Crumb Snatcher Speak & upcoming interview

Boy Child, very matter of fact: "You know I'm only 10 and I've already dumped one girlfriend..."

Me, thinking: Oh maaaaan! And this from he who last week didn't think it was okay for any other male to touch his new wife's garter!

Me, asking: "Wwwow. Really? And who was that...?"

Boy Child, again very matter of fact: "I don't really know. I can't ever remember her name...it was so long ago. Like a lifetime."

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Oh Crud! I think we're (okay, I) am going to be in for big trouble with this one..."I've already dumped a girlfriend..."
Oh, and one more little thing. Would you be up for an interview? Like if people left questions in the comments or emailed them to me and I asked you and then posted the answers in a post kind of interview? You'd be cool with that? Fabulous! Okay, y'all - ask away!

One Fact a Day: Today is Oprah's 55th birthday! Yes. Five-five.

Crumb Snatcher Speak

You know how when something happens or is said that you really shouldn't laugh, snort or giggle at? Well, I had a very difficult time keeping the snickers (okay, guffaws) in when Boy Child very seriously asked, "Why don't you just grow a little hair in the bald spots to cover them up Daddy?"
Hee Hee Heee.
Love Note to Big Shooter: Sorry Love. I just couldn't help it or pass it by...

Crumb Snatcher #1 Speak

Since Plainsville is experiencing record lows the last few days, Boy Child informed his father when getting back into the vehicle he was "now so cold, I am suffering from hydrofoamia". Big Shooter later told me he wasn't sure whether to rehydrate him for the hydro part or turn him over to the pound in case he had rabies from the foamia...

Love Note to Big Shooter: Thank you for sharing with me. I know you know how much I treasure Crumb Speak...so thanks for remembering Big Guy.

Crumb Snatcher #1 Speak

Boy Child: Mom, have I ever been to a national museum? Like the National Museum of Art...or History... or something like that?

Straight Shooter: Yes. We all went to Washington D.C. a month after 9-11. It was very moving and sentimental for Mommy and Daddy.

Boy Child: Uh, huh.

Straight Shooter: I think it would be fabulous if every American could visit our nation's capitol at least once in their lifetime. It can be life chan...

Boy Child: Yep, I thought so. I just couldn't remember for sure. (Pause for thought.) I do know I've been to the original Wal*Mart Museum though! Now that was moving and sensitive, wasn't it Mommy?

Straight Shooter: Uh, huh.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I think it is time to take a step back and take a SERIOUS look at what kind of parenting job we are doing...

A Decade Ago...

this charming little boy moved in to our hearts...


What happened??

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU,

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU...

(Seriously, he wore this outfit everyday from the time he turned 3 until he was 5. We own no less than 4-5 Superman outfits at all times. All times.)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

DEAR GREYSON

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

TO YOU!

We are more and more humbled each year when we think about what God has given us in our son. He is fun, funny, all boy, smart, smart*&%, loving and kind, thoughtful and giving. We could not imagine life without this magnificent soul. Thank you Lord for your Gift to us.

Crumb #1 Speak

After being instructed to look for a library book in a large basket, "Mommee, I'm just tellin' you straight...it's not in the wicked basket!" (wicker)

Gonzers...

Little, teeny, weeny, adorable Buttercup is on his way to be Leo...or maybe Lola today.

Unfortunately, I wasn't kiddin' when I said we're not keeping him. Boy child is allergic to cats.

We gave it a whirl. Apparently, after 48 hours he would require Benadryl intravenously to live in the same house as a cat.

Since we spend a fair amount of time at home with schoolin' and all my Super Savior girlfriend Jen graciously/thankfully/with hardly any pleadin' & beggin' agreed to adopt the precious Wee One.

If he is truly a boy (we had a some what of a cat whisperer identify the sex cause apparently when they are so young their...ahem, appendages/packages...identifiables are not very identifiable yet). Anyway, if he's truly a boy - his new name will be Leo. However, if he turns out to be a she - her new name will be Lola. I love that name. I should have named Girl Child Lola. It can sound fun. Lola! Like, La Vida Loca! Or sexy. Low-la. Or ordinary Girl-Next-Door. Lola La-tee-da.

Jen will not be able to officially call him anything until tomorrow's vet visit. She suffers from MGI. Mistaken Gender Identity. Her current resident feline's original name was Charity...that has now been corrected. He's been de-pinkified and is now called Charlie. His Identifiables were unidentifiable at the time of the original christening.

I'm sure she'll keep us updated and informed on Buttercup/Leo/Lola's status in the comments.




***Update*** Buttercup is now Leo - the Blue Tabby Cat. He is loving life in his new digs with very cool toys and a doting Momma.

Love Note to My Big Shooter: Big day today going back to the Slave Ship. As usual, not a word of complaint or worry when you came home exhausted. Just concern for your family's well-being. You are a saint. My saint. Sigh.

Crumb Snatcher #1 Speak

"Mom, what does gay mean?"
"I think it means very happy. What do you think it means?"
"Welllll, I think it has two meanings"
Big Shooter and I exchange glances and I ask the obvious, "Really? And what are the two meanings?'
"The first means happy. And the second...welll..." He is noticeably very uncomfortable.
"Go ahead Honey. What is the second one?"
After a few seconds he says, "It's like 3 or 4 s-words (shut-up) at the same time... If you say it, you better be ready for that person to be really, really mad at you."
"And how do you know the difference?"
"Well, they are spelled differently. The good, happy one is g-a-y. And the mean, cuss one is g-e-y."
His dad praised him by saying, "I know that was uncomfortable for you, but you made the right decision to tell us what you'd learned from others. We really appreciate your honesty." #1 basked under the praise and nodded a father/son understood salute towards Daddy.
I did not/dared not make direct eye contact with Big Shooter for the rest of the ride.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After receiving a sideways Momma look for a seriously silly comment Boy Child matter-of-factly stated, "I do have lots of common sense Mom...I just choose to ignore it."


Love Note to Big Shooter: I am so glad you are such a gay addition to this family.

Update on Big Shooter: We went to the GI today. He took some blood, gave him a prescription and as usual, we'll have to wait and see what the results say...

Update on Crumb #2: She also saw the doctor today. Her bones are perfectly aligned and healing nicely. She was very disappointed to find out she has to wear the bigger cast though for at least two more weeks. We reminded her it was her sympathy card and bought her some ice cream. She feels better now.

Thanks Coach!

#1: "Awwww...it's the eeennd.

Mom: "Ahhhh... it's the eeennd.

Hey, batter, batter...

...Swwwwiiing!"

It's over. It's over. Momma's doing the Happy Dance.

Boy Child is not.

Kinda, Sorta Wordless Wednesday...okay, not

Rocket Launcher

See ya on the moon Boy Child.

Update on B.S. - Sorry. I know many of you read this to find out how the Big Shooter is doing...I'm blaming it on the fact I am an Only Child and it's all about me...will that fly?

In his words, "There are good days and bad days." He visited Sashi's farm with me on Mother's Day, her husband Taco Bandito was doin' guy stuff, BS was feelin' gooood on heavy narcotics, he thought he'd just supervise...he's been in bed for two days now.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Thanks for passing on that Imagination Gene! I love it! Because of you, our hacienda is never dull!

How lucky am I

to get to overhear these kinds of comments:
We had just entered Wally World and over the paging system a woman announces, "Customer needs assistance in live fish, customer needs assistance in live fish." #1 looks at me puzzled and very seriously inquires, "They sell not-living fish?

Niiice...

Since he was like 4ish in these photos, I'm beginning to realize it's not 9 year old boy humor... it apparently, is just boy humor.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I love that you gave me a Minnie Me of you in #1. I am positive your momma and I have a whole lot more in common now than we ever dreamed we would.

Went Cup shopping...

not the kind you drink out of. Well, I wouldn't anyway.

Here's how it went down.
#1: Mom, I need a cup.
Momma: Get one out of the cupboard.
#1: Not that kind of cup.
Momma: (confused) What other kind of cup is there?
#1: Pantomiming a bat or ball, who knows which, flying towards his crotch area. Hitting the said area. In s l o w m o t i o n he grabs said area with dire expression (how does he know the face when this male phenomenon hasn't even happened to him yet), collapses to the floor.
Momma: Oh. You mean a cup...cup.
#1: From a heap on the floor (and still clutching the said area like someone is going to reach down and steal 'em.) Yep. That kind. Can you go buy me one?
Momma: Uh, that'd be a nope. Sorry pal, that's a dad deal.

Transition: Boy child calls his father and has the same exact conversation with his father...including the dramatic fall and clutching business. Apparently, his father agreed to go shopping with him after practice tonight.
Side Note: Boy child only has one, ahem... jewel to protect. Another story. Another time.

Momma is fixing dinner and phone rings.
Momma: Hi Darlin'.
Big Shooter: Hi. We're on our way to Academy and I was wondering...do they make cups for one ballers?
Momma: Sucks all air out of kitchen. Drops phone. Then laughs hysterically at the new nick name just bestowed on #1! "ummm...let's see let me pull that kind of information out of my How the *&^%&* would I know file!"
Big Shooter: chuckle, chuckle. Just kiddin' ya. We'll be fine.

15 minutes later...
Momma: Hi Darlin'.
Big Shooter: Hi. What size do I get?
Momma: ??????? (Is he serious?)
Big Shooter: There is a 10-12 or 14-16...
Momma: (again...) ??????
Big Shooter: I'll just go with the bigger one.
Momma: Thinking - Well, of course he would go with the bigger size...he's male speaking of the nether region. Said - What ever you two think will fit/work best Sweetie I am sure will be fine.
Hang up, go back to dinner fixin'.

5 seconds later...
Big Shooter: Yes?
Momma: What if it's too big and doesn't protect the one little guy?
Big Shooter: ????? (Is she serious? Little guy...?)
Momma: Or what if it's loose and rubs him raw?
Big Shooter: silence...he must have been contemplating raw and nether regions together...
Momma: Or what if it's too tight and something happens to little guy? ...and he can't have babies...?
Big Shooter: ?????
Momma: I'm sure you'll get what's best...right?
Big Shooter: ...uh, huh. (Honestly, he didn't sound too convincing.)

15 minutes later...
Momma: Hi Darlin'.
Big Shooter: We got a cup, a new bat bag...and we are on our way home.
Momma: (Sigh) Oh, good. See you in a bit.
Hang up and ponder where life has now lead...

11 years ago - didn't want Crumb Snatchers.
9 years ago - didn't blanch or see anything wrong with scooping small crumb snatcher up in mid-stride, lifting his bum up parallel to my nose to see if the smell was him or the mall food we just passed...
1 hour ago - worrying about my son's little guy staying safe to make future Crumb Snatchers...

Where does time go? What will be next?!
Don't answer that!
...that is what is referred to as rhetorical question...

Love Note to My Big Shooter: You fulfilled another Dad Duty today. I love the kind of dad you are.

What do you think?

These new digs are courtesy of a good ole' gal over at Splat Designs! May I take a moment to recommend her if you are considering a new look for your own blog. She is completely and utterly creative, extremely easy to work with, figures out exactly what fits your style, and very (I won't say cheap Lindsay) very reasonable! Like, "you need to get over there and take advantage of her before she comes to her senses and charges you enough to buy herself a coke after she's slaved over every silly detail of your new blog for days" kinda reasonable. I am still getting used to being in my new digs so bear with me as I feel myself around.
Since I missed Wordless Wednesday I am going to do Thoughtless Thursday pics today instead. The problem is - they won't be thoughtless...

oh, you'll have thoughts alright...because

yeeess,

it REALLY is

a toilet seat...

Love Note to Big Shooter has moved to the left side of the site...

See any Similarities...?

If there are any in doubt, take a closer look...

Calvin of Calvin & Hobbes

His Mouth

I have loved this boy's mouth since the second I laid eyes on him. He and his little sister have these perfect pink rosebud lips. The similarities end there though. She uses her whole face to tell me what she's thinkin'. All I have to do with him is look at his mouth.

This means "Mischief is eminent".

"My patience are not running overeth..."

"Heee, Heeee. I can hear her squeal already...more evil heee, heees..."!

Happy concentration.

More evil heee, heees.

Yes! ...I knew she'd squeal and call for her Momma!

Ya'll know Calvin and Hobbes? Well, I live with Calvin. I take one look at that face and know he's up to no good.

Recycling Day!

As a child my Grandpa Bozo and Granny Grunt saved all their aluminum cans for me. A couple times a year they'd dump out garbage bags and bags and bags full and have me stomp them down. They taught me how to squish them juuust right in the middle so they'd stay stuck to my shoes. Then I'd run around in circles on the driveway. It made the perfect sound of a a horse clopping. Oh, what great fun that was for a kid!

It was always a huge deal when we'd gathered, smashed and bagged enough to fill the truck bed. They'd make a whole afternoon of loading 'em up and haulin' them and me to the recycling center. I'd help get all the bags out, weigh them, and then get to help dump them in the giant compacting machine. After all the work was finished I'd follow my granddad over to the office to collect the money. He'd always make a big deal to the cashier about how I'd collected, smashed, bagged and hauled them in. He and my Granny made me feel like I'd done the whole job all by myself and make me believe I deserved the whole amount of money all to myself. So with my fist full of money, I'd plan to buy my mom a mansion, myself a horse and my grandparents a motor home... all with my $20 or $30.

Big Shooter has much the same memories (sans the granny and granddad) about collecting cans and earning extra cash as a kid. So it was only natural we shared these memories with the Crumb Snatchers when we discovered our demolished shed in the backyard after the Monster Ice Storm. Big Shooter had the boy child frothing at the mouth in expectation of the extra $ he'd earn by helping dismantle the mangled mess, haul it out of the back, load it in the truck and haul it to the recycling center. After unloading it, weighing it and getting to watch the Way Cool Gigantumous Claw pick it up, they went to the office in anticipation of their reward.

Aluminum is .85 cents a pound...and they had 230 pounds!

Can you imagine their excitement?

Too bad the shed was tin...$25 a ton.

Here's their receipt...

Just in case you can't read the small blurry number - it's $2.88.

Now, as funny as that is...here's the kicker. Big Shooter drives an Excursion a.k.a. Gas Hog that gets 9 miles to the gallon... it cost $5 in gas just to haul the shed there...

Nine Year Old Boy Humor

I was an only girl child, okay tomboy girl, but girl none the less. I know I could hold my own with boy cousins and a very humorous grandfather but nothing prepared me for raising a boy. I taught oodles of boys in my former life as a public school teacher. In fact, I preferred boy students.

Then came Crumb Snatcher #1.

When he discovered his parts as a toddler I knew the Pickle Tickle was just part of discovery and self learning. When he was being potty trained he became obsessed with the bodily functions...and it's never really left. I listen with great interest to his conversations with his buddies whether they are in person, on the phone or through e-mails. I have finally just accepted that even the boys from really proper families (we, by the way, are at the exact opposite end of the spectrum) love to talk, explore, compare, and describe in great degrees the bodies functions and noises.

Hence, the joke that I find myself wanting to share with complete strangers when encountering that ackward silence in lines, waiting rooms, airplanes. Well, not really airplanes. Although, I may consider that an option now when I no longer want to hear about Aunt Bessie's five Fi Fi dogs or my seatmate's bunions and corns.

"There was this airplane flying high, high up with two teachers and an Army Guy. It was way too heavy so the pilot said they needed to lighten the plane by throwing things out. So the first teacher threw out an apple and then jumped out herself. When she landed she saw a little kid crying. She asked what was the matter and the kid said, 'I was walking home and an apple fell out of the sky and hit me on the head.' The second teacher also threw out an apple and then jumped herself. When she landed she saw a little girl crying and asked her what was the matter. The little girl said she was playing with her dolly and an apple just fell out of the sky and hit her in the head. Now it was the Army Guy's turn. He threw out a grenade and jumped out of the plane. When he landed he found a little boy laughing his head off. Army Guy asked what was so funny and the little boy said, 'I pooted and the house blew up!'"

This is the face I see every single time he says the punch line...

Gawd, I love my boy's humor!