Wednesday, April 20, 2016

Hernia Mesh Warning, Class V

I've got my earbuds in, working on aligning and syncing the captions I've typed out for a video (I do some interesting work, I tell you), and I've just finished unsnarling a particularly hairy spot where the speaker is talking rapidly enough that I have to adjust the caption groups so that the words on screen aren't flying by at too fast of a rate.

That's when Middle bounces into the room, where Hubby is sitting on the couch, watching a silly video on Facebook involving pants.


Middle: Daddy, are these bad words? S-E-X and S-E-X-Y?

Hubby: Do you know what they mean?

Middle: Well, I think the second one is kind of like Hannah Montana. She got too sexy.

Hubby: Do you know what sex is?

Middle: I think it's when you're sort of bad-ish.


I slapped a hand over my mouth, trying desperately not to laugh out loud, keeping the video on pause.


Hubby: Noooo...

Middle: Why don't you use your phone?


I turned my face into my elbow and hoped that would muffle my laughter.


Hubby: I don't need to use my phone. I know what it is. ... Are you hearing these words at school?

Middle: I'm seeing them in word searches and stuff.

Hubby: Oh, you are?

Middle: Yeah, kid word searches. Sex and sexy are right there, at the bottom.

Hubby: Okay, well, they aren't bad words, but they're grown-up words. "Sexy" is when you think someone is really good looking, when you look at them and you think "Hubba hubba!" I think Mom is sexy. You'd have to ask her if she thinks I'm sexy.

Middle: Hey, Momma!

Me: Oh, no. I'm not getting into this conversation!

Middle: You can hear us?!

Me: Yup. Not getting into this.

Middle: Why not? You're the smartest one in this house!

Hubby (laughing): I'm not disputing it. There are some things I know more about than Mom , but not much. So I'm not disputing.

Middle: Some of the kids in class said there were bad words. Mr. S [her teacher] said they weren't bad words, they just weren't for kids.

Hubby: Can you pick up this couch?

Middle: No.

Hubby: Because it's too heavy for you, right? Just like you can't pick up the couch because it's too heavy for you, these words are too heavy for you, too. When you're older, we'll talk more about them. Okay?

Middle (nods): Hey, Dad, I'm gonna give you a word scramble. What's E-T-T-S?


This kid. She's going to be the death of us. If not from her brains, from her rapid-fire subject changes.

Wednesday, February 24, 2016

So Put That in Your Blog and Smoke It

Hubby went and picked up Oldest and Middle from church tonight, and—after tucking the kids into bed—told me about what they'd talked about on the short trip home:

Hubby: What did you learn about tonight?

Oldest or Middle: The little boy king.

Hubby: The little boy king?

O/M: Yeah.

Hubby: Oh, you mean the rich young ruler.

O/M: Yeah!

Hubby: What happened?

O/M: He came and asked Jesus what he had to do to get into heaven.

Hubby: And what did Jesus say?

O/M: That he needed to obey all the commandments.

Hubby: What did the rich young ruler say to that?

O/M: That he'd kept all of those since he was a kid.

Hubby: Then what did Jesus say?

O/M: That he had to get rid of all his stuff, and he was sad.

Middle: And then they didn't finish the story!

Hubby: What?

Middle: He was sad, and then they didn't finish the story! He just walked away!

Only Middle, my storyteller, would ask that.

Hubby: Well, the reason he was sad is because he was rich, and he had lots of stuff, and he didn't want to give it away. That's why he walked away sad. He didn't want to give it all up.

I'm pretty sure at this point that Middle still thinks the story didn't end right, because we don't know what actually happened to the rich young ruler.

Hubby: So, what did Jesus say about being rich and getting into heaven, then?

Oldest: Something about a donkey.

Hubby: Noooo... A camel.

Oldest: Oh, right. Something about sticking a needle in a camel's eye.

Hubby chuckled here in his retelling, and I could see him trying to drive and have this conversation.

Hubby: No, Jesus said it's easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. What do you think that means?

Here Hubby, former youth pastor, with four years of religion education, stopped and looked at me. "So I'm really enjoying this. I'm having a deep, meaningful, spiritual conversation with my kids. I'm loving it. And that's when..."

Middle: I don't know, but I think we should ask Mom. She's the expert.

Hubby: You ungrateful little curs get in the house and get ready for bed!

"You did not say that to them!" I said.

"Yes, I said exactly that! 'Mom's the expert.' So put that in your blog and smoke it."

Tentacles: A Photo Essay

Grief is, as I've said before, an odd beast, that travels in drunken, staggering lines and weaves its tentacles into odd places in life, popping up at the most unexpected moments. For reasons I have not been able to determine, this week it has hovered dangerously close to the surface, leaving me teetering on the edge of tears on a near-constant basis.

I miss my dad.

A lot.

No amount of chocolate or french fries can fix it.

I miss my dad.

So, indulge me for a few minutes while I share some of my favorite memories.

Dad's 70th, making s'mores in his birthday firepit.

Mom & Dad with all the grandies (at that time)

That's Dad there on the right (thanks to DM, to his left, for this pic).
Dad loved to sing with the choir.

Middle, peering into The Crystal Bald.

Dad with his 2E buddies (from the choir's select group).
Handsome guys, right? (I love that tie.) Another one from DM.

Dad as a boy. Isn't he cute?
No, I don't remember back this far.

Dad would often lay in bed and pretend to be asleep,
just so the girls would come wake him up with a zillion smooches.

Dad and me, on my wedding day.

Dad as a young man. Handsome dude, he was.

Middle discovers Boppa's sweater has buttons.

Middle learns the art of combing Boppa's hair.

"Take a picture of me and my girls. Now make sure you send that to me!"

2010, when we all went to Florida together.

With Youngest.

Another from Dad's 70th. That was my gift to him that year.
Of course he went and put it on right away.

Dressed up as The Evil Queen. (You had to be there.)

Boppa was given Duckie for safekeeping.

Taking selfies with Boppa!

Dad really was such a good sport.

Yes, he's wearing a (clean) Pull-up for a hat.
I got in so much trouble for taking this.

Gotta love a guy who will let his granddaughters dress him up in pom-poms.

And boas.

Boppa makes a good slide!

See?

That flip-out LCD on Boppa's camera is so cool.

What we do while we're waiting for the twins' birthday party to start...

I just love the abject glee on both their faces here.


Buddies.

Also during our 2010 trip. Youngest got fed up with the splash park.

A bald Poppa is a good foundation.

Come on, Boppa!

Story time.

Mom specifically requested that the Play-Doh pictures be in the slideshow for Dad's memorial service.


I think Youngest wouldn't go to the water's edge without Dad.

Another of the Play-Doh pictures. Anything is a blank slate to an artist...

Together.

I think this is when he realized I was "documenting."

Her grandpa is not only rockin', as her shirt says.
He's also pretty silly. She comes by it honestly.

Boppa, help!

Reading a favorite.

Of course, he had to get a picture with the twins wearing these shirts.

The hat lights up, folks. It lights up.

Hat heads.

Middle needed a moment at a splash park. Boppa was good for those times.

Dr. Oldest gives Boppa a checkup.

We gave Dad this blanket for Christmas one year. I have it now.

The hat lights up. Along the letters, yes. I have the hat, too.

I forget what year this was, but it was shortly after Christmas one year,
and we were out at Mom & Dad's. Dad fell asleep on the couch,
and one of the girls covered him with the blanket
and then tucked LarryBoy in next to him so he wouldn't be alone.

These two. So silly together.

This was Dad's birthday, and right before Middle and Oldest helped him
by blowing out the candle before he could.

Oldest, showing off my sandals. I don't know why.

Waiting to ride the Easter train.

Looking at train stuff.

I am not sure why Middle grabbed Dad's ear with her toes, other than that she could.

Dad was pretending to "cut" her toes with that toy straightener,
and Middle was squealing with delight. What a night.

Wearing a Duplo block. Left there by a granddaughter, no doubt.

Puzzlin'.

Together.

Storytime again.

The kids gave him this book for Christmas one year.

One of few normal-ish pictures of Dad and Middle.

Dad and Youngest.

Dad and Oldest. He looks like he's keeping a secret. She looks like she's gone off the deep end.

Bedtime story.

Boppa makes funny noises!

And funny faces!

Oldest sharing some of her strawberry shortcake with Dad (it was his birthday).

Dad loved the BBC's "Top Gear," so we made him this shirt one year
for his birthday. The girls' shirts all say "STIGLET." He loved it.

Bedtime snuggles.

Back when the girls first came to live with us,
and Youngest still was so unsure of things.

At the Smithsonian National Zoo, and Youngest was a little cranky. Until Boppa got her.

"I'm following The Toucher."

Oldest's birthday. Already high on sugar, and hadn't even had cake yet.

I love this purple-lips picture. (Her Tangled cake had purple icing on it...)

Another one I'm pretty sure I got in trouble for. But if he's gonna wear 'em...

Christmas in February. These two.

Smooches!

Dad and the girls at our vacation rental home in Ocean City, MD, a few years back.

Dad and the girls, on Easter Sunday, several years ago.

The girls decided to bury Hubby in the sand. Dad decided to help.

♫ Ring around the roooooosie... ♪

Mom and Dad treated us to Sweet Frog right before they went to FL
in January 2015. This bit of magic happened.

And then this, which became Dad's final Facebook profile picture.
It's now my cover photo.