I love Church!
My parents, on the other hand, think it's the most exhausting hour of the week.
This was Sunday's itinerary:
I sang "Ring-Around-The-Rosie" during "hold hands" time (though everyone else seemed to be talking about "Our Father").
I sang "Happy To You" (my own rendition of "Happy Birthday") when the newly baptized babies got their candles lit.
I accused Riley of pooping her pants during "shake your neighbors hand" time.
I laughed hysterically & yelled "TOOTIE! 'SCUSE YOU", when Avery farted during "close your eyes, fold your hands & be quiet" time.
My parents moved me to the "behind the glass" area so Fr. Len couldn't hear me anymore. So I had to yell, "PEACE TO YOU, FADER LEN" for the remainder of Church so he would know I was still there.
I think a good time was had by all...all but my parents.
I can't wait til next Sunday!
Monday, November 21, 2011
I Always Listen
Mother, when you tell me to "put my water in the cup holder", please remember that I am 2 and I ALWAYS do exactly what I'm told.
So, after taking the top off of my water bottle, I filled the cup holder with the water & proceeded to use it as a splash pad for the remainder of the car ride home.
Thanks for the great idea & the 15 minutes of entertainment.
So, after taking the top off of my water bottle, I filled the cup holder with the water & proceeded to use it as a splash pad for the remainder of the car ride home.
Thanks for the great idea & the 15 minutes of entertainment.
Pushing Buttons
In the time it took my mom to get out of the car & see my sister onto the bus, I was easily able to lock the car doors & call my new friend at On-Star Emergency. When the nice gentleman asked "what's your emergency?", I simply replied "I push buttons".
My Mom agrees.
My Mom agrees.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Going To School
Every morning, my Mom drags me to the bus stop to see my oldest sister off to school. Now I don't know what this magical place is yet, but today I was determined to find out.
There are at least 40 kids waiting on the corner to squeeze onto the magic yellow tube, so I figured no one would notice if I made it 41.
I patiently waited in the back of the line, pretending to wave good bye to my sister and casually looking over my shoulder to see if I was in the clear. The time had come; I saw an opening & I made my move. Cutting off the poor soul that was about to step foot onto the bus, I finagled my way up the steps, only to be greeted by a very large "stop" hand & some words from a bus driver who's second language is barely English.
I think I could have made it past the smiley guard, but my Mom (the "buzz kill" queen) scooped me up, apologized, & led me back home.
Defeated, I wouldn't even hold that woman's hand.
Someday...Someday I'll get to that magical place called school & I'm sure I will never want to leave.
There are at least 40 kids waiting on the corner to squeeze onto the magic yellow tube, so I figured no one would notice if I made it 41.
I patiently waited in the back of the line, pretending to wave good bye to my sister and casually looking over my shoulder to see if I was in the clear. The time had come; I saw an opening & I made my move. Cutting off the poor soul that was about to step foot onto the bus, I finagled my way up the steps, only to be greeted by a very large "stop" hand & some words from a bus driver who's second language is barely English.
I think I could have made it past the smiley guard, but my Mom (the "buzz kill" queen) scooped me up, apologized, & led me back home.
Defeated, I wouldn't even hold that woman's hand.
Someday...Someday I'll get to that magical place called school & I'm sure I will never want to leave.
4 Boys = No Brains At All
Once each week I have a little get-together with the fellas. We call it "Buddy Days". This week my three amigos came over for some fun & as an added bonus, we discovered a very important lesson...
If three boys are doing something, it doesn't take much to convince the fourth boy to join in.
Today, it just happened to be three of us wearing Lightening McQueen undies, so we pressured boy #4, still clad in diapers, to join us in the next step towards manhood.
We then decided to test the waters & take it to the next level. Three of us were hiding under the table sticking stickers to its underside, again, boy #4 felt compelled to join in.
So I have to wonder, how far will this go in the future?
By age 6, we'll all be peeing (or worse) in the woods behind the house.
By age 10, we'll see who can come up with the most disgusting, vulgar or inappropriate thing to say.
By age 17, we'll want to challenge each other to some spontaneous drag-races down Grand River.
By age 21, we'll have chugging contests and keg stands to prove just how much Natty Light we can handle.
By age 33, when we are married, have children of our own and know better, we'll be at a respectable Christmas party, have a few too many cocktails and challenge each other to a "squat competition" on our make-shift squat rack in the garage.
All it will take is three boys doing it & it suddenly sounds like a really good idea to the fourth.
Like my Nanny always says, "One Boy = One Brain, Two Boys = 1/2 Brain, Three Boys = Barely a Brain, Four Boys = No Brain At All."
As far as I am concerned, brains just get in the way of fun, so bring on the challengs & the four of us will be running the country in a few decades.
If three boys are doing something, it doesn't take much to convince the fourth boy to join in.
Today, it just happened to be three of us wearing Lightening McQueen undies, so we pressured boy #4, still clad in diapers, to join us in the next step towards manhood.
We then decided to test the waters & take it to the next level. Three of us were hiding under the table sticking stickers to its underside, again, boy #4 felt compelled to join in.
So I have to wonder, how far will this go in the future?
By age 6, we'll all be peeing (or worse) in the woods behind the house.
By age 10, we'll see who can come up with the most disgusting, vulgar or inappropriate thing to say.
By age 17, we'll want to challenge each other to some spontaneous drag-races down Grand River.
By age 21, we'll have chugging contests and keg stands to prove just how much Natty Light we can handle.
By age 33, when we are married, have children of our own and know better, we'll be at a respectable Christmas party, have a few too many cocktails and challenge each other to a "squat competition" on our make-shift squat rack in the garage.
All it will take is three boys doing it & it suddenly sounds like a really good idea to the fourth.
Like my Nanny always says, "One Boy = One Brain, Two Boys = 1/2 Brain, Three Boys = Barely a Brain, Four Boys = No Brain At All."
As far as I am concerned, brains just get in the way of fun, so bring on the challengs & the four of us will be running the country in a few decades.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
It's On!
Forgetting that I was not required to use a toilet for the duration of time spent with my Nanny & Pappy, my mom tried to take me out for some necessary errands and then to story time wearing just underpants. Upon arrival, she was reminded that I will do what I want, when I want...even if that means in my car seat.
True to form, she toweled me off in the library parking lot, put a spare diaper on me & marched my bare-legged behind into story time. Picture this...a diaper, a blue thermal shirt, blue & white striped socks, and that's it. She didn't even bother to put on my cool boots!
What am I, some sort of W.T. baby who snacks on his own runny nose & bathes in puddles?
I have a reputation to uphold! How am I supposed to be taken seriously with all that baby padding? I saw some of my peeps, and couldn't explain my appearance, so I just pretended to be a dog.
She made a half-hearted effort to ask a few other moms with boys about my size if they had any spare pants, with no success. So there I sat, in nothing but a Target-Brand diaper, forced to sing "The Itsy-Bitsy Spider" and listen to Ms. Jaque read another book upside down.
If you think this game of tug-o-war is over, you have another think coming, Lady. IT'S ON!
You may have won the battle, but I will surely dominate in the war!
PS-If you think high-fructose-corn-syrup stuck to a toilet bowl via ketchup is hard to get off, just wait & see what's in store for you when I wake up from my nap...
True to form, she toweled me off in the library parking lot, put a spare diaper on me & marched my bare-legged behind into story time. Picture this...a diaper, a blue thermal shirt, blue & white striped socks, and that's it. She didn't even bother to put on my cool boots!
What am I, some sort of W.T. baby who snacks on his own runny nose & bathes in puddles?
I have a reputation to uphold! How am I supposed to be taken seriously with all that baby padding? I saw some of my peeps, and couldn't explain my appearance, so I just pretended to be a dog.
She made a half-hearted effort to ask a few other moms with boys about my size if they had any spare pants, with no success. So there I sat, in nothing but a Target-Brand diaper, forced to sing "The Itsy-Bitsy Spider" and listen to Ms. Jaque read another book upside down.
If you think this game of tug-o-war is over, you have another think coming, Lady. IT'S ON!
You may have won the battle, but I will surely dominate in the war!
PS-If you think high-fructose-corn-syrup stuck to a toilet bowl via ketchup is hard to get off, just wait & see what's in store for you when I wake up from my nap...
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Caught "Red" Handed
As usual, my Mom was a bit too distracted during the preparation of my hot dog, grapes, carrots & string cheese lunch. It wasn't until she was looking for a particular condiment that she noticed my absence. In her search, she came across this scene straight out of a horror film & no doubt had a momentary panic attack...
Upon further investigation (and the overwhelming smell of tomatoes), she deducted it was merely ketchup.
Fearing that this act may be frowned upon in this establishment, I found refuge in my favorite hiding place, the washing machine. Little did I know, she also knows that this is my favorite hiding place (not to mention, I left a trail of tiny red footprints to my hideout), and I was caught "red" handed.
Upon further investigation (and the overwhelming smell of tomatoes), she deducted it was merely ketchup.
Fearing that this act may be frowned upon in this establishment, I found refuge in my favorite hiding place, the washing machine. Little did I know, she also knows that this is my favorite hiding place (not to mention, I left a trail of tiny red footprints to my hideout), and I was caught "red" handed.
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