Raw Hide

During a trip back home, you never know what kind of stories will pop up. Today, my family and I were talking about spankings when I recalled my only memory of a belt spanking. My brother Doug and I were into it, can't recall why, and I called him a bastard. Oh, the horror! Such a strong word. Well, my dad was non too happy about this absurd word. And I remember my dad taking off his belt and me running like the wind. I should have run for the door. Dad would never have caught me. Instead, I was cornered in a bedroom. I learned a lot from that experience. I learned that if I was ever going to call my brother a name, I was going to do it when dad was not around!

That's For Girls

Apparently, only girls should take dance lessons. Jack likes some kind of show on TV that features four teens who sing and dance, so I suggested he take dance classes. "No, that's for girls," he replied. He seemed upset that I even considered signing him up for anything involving dance and girls.

Jack love to play ball. Today, he was itching to get out and play. I suggested we sign him up for tee ball someday. "No, that's for girls," he said. I think Mike and I were finally able to convince him that boys and girls play tee ball. Too bad you have to be kindergarten age around here to play tee ball. Jack would play better than some of the appropriately-aged kids.

Did you see the hooligan running in church after mass was over? Yes, that was Jack. I don't know why he thinks it's okay to throw caution to the wind and run down the aisles and through the pews. Most of the people were gone by then but there were still a few lingering. I looked up and saw a woman a couple of pews back laughing. I had to laugh too. Too bad it's not proper to run in church. Jack has the power to make me laugh when he's being a naughty boy.

Goodbye India

I am worn out. Over the last couple of months I have been working on a video promoting the local university and city to India. Yes, India. Turns out they have really smart people there who have money. Well, we want some of those smarties and their money would be nice too. And, while you're at it, why don't you send your kids to college here? Anyway, after 9 interviews, 22 pages of transcribed interviews, several script revisions and a multitude of skipped lunches, the majority of the 10 minute video is done. Three people viewed it today. A few more will view it on Monday. Hopefully, there are no more changes so I can move on to a different project. I felt exhausted this afternoon, like my brain had checked out for the day and was replaced with fog. To celebrate the almost-end of this project, my husband took me out for dinner tonight. And guess what we had for dinner? Mexican! And you thought I was going to say Indian.

Life

You may know that I visit a few friends in a nearby retirement home. I started this church ministry as a way to honor a grandmother who died while I was in college. Grandma Rose was half of my namesake, a cute, pudgy woman with a German accent. I can still remember her heavy voice. Some of the things I recall - she always had a steady supply of microwave popcorn and Juicy Fruit gum. She shooed cats off of her carport with a broom. And she grew the best tomato plants.

Back to the people I visit. They have become wonderful friends. They live in small, over-priced rooms that resemble apartment complexes. With the close quarters, they get to know one another a little too well. And, at a time when you would think age would begin to equal our differences and yes, annoyances, they only seem to exacerbate them. Thanks to my friends, I get to hear about the politics of the place and some of its quirky residents.

One of my sweet friends is 97 years old. One glance her way and you'd think she was merely in her 80's. A week ago, she described one of the residents like you might describe someone in high school. The annoying character is a male who likes to have his way. "No one likes him." He has requested that some of the BINGO time be converted to UNO time. She said he reminds her of a pig. This is the story he likes to tell people: when he was born, his parents put him in the cellar to see if he would grunt or cry first.

Totally cracked me up.

It is almost refreshing to know that we don't lose our sense of the annoying when we get older. If anything, we are more likely to lose our tolerance and say something about it. When you're close to 100, you might as well speak your mind.

The Knock Out

Mike was clocked by our four-year-old nephew this week. The object hit - hard. When I look at Mike I do a double-take. It looks like he has purple eye shadow on one eye. He's being a big baby and won't let me take a picture of it for posterity or at least a good laugh. All he needs is some mascara.

Jackisms

Jack is a quirky little boy. He likes things to be in order, the way they "should be." You could call him anal retentive. On the way to work this morning, Jack mentioned the frost still on my windows. Now, the majority was off but there was still a little on the edge. He mentioned it once. I said, "Mommy's driving." And then he mentioned it a second time, "You gotta get that off."

At three-years-old, you never know what's going to pop out of Jack's mouth. This morning, Mike tried to hug him and after a little while Jack said, "You're crazy." A little later, I tried to hold him and he said, "You're crazy too."

Speaking of "too's"...if you say that you like something and Jack also likes it, he will say, "Me three," not "Me too." After all, he's no longer 2. He's a big boy.

As we were gathered for dinner tonight and praying before our meal, Jack was acting up. I said, "Don't you want to thank God for our blessings?" Jack said, "No, thank Jesus."

We went to a family get-together last weekend and Jack made a few new friends. Later when we prayed and thanked God for our blessings, he thanked God for the "girl friends and boy friends" he made.

Another Jack Zinger

Jack took his sealed sippy cup and gestured it to Mike tonight. "I'm spraying you daddy." Then threw his free hand in the air and said, "Just kidding!" This happened several times to Mike and then me. What a goob.