Friday, July 29, 2011
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Jack: Why did the bowling ball not want to play soccer?
Me: I don't know, why?
Jack: Because he didn't want to get kicked out.
Me: [blank stare]
Daddy whispers into Jack's ear.
Jack: Why did the bowling ball not want to play baseball?
Me: I don't know, why?
Jack: Because he kept striking out.
I guess we need to work on his delivery...
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Friday, July 15, 2011
So we (me, Jack, Wesley, and Elise) were doing our nightly Bible devotions. The story that we were studying was the angel Gabriel visiting Mary to tell her that she was going to become pregnant and have a boy that she was to name Jesus. The devotional suggested asking the kids about visitors that had been by that day or that were going to come by the next day. There were also instructions for a short game where the parent gives clues about a person that visits the children so that they can try to guess who Mom or Dad are thinking of.
I thought of a person and started giving the kids clues. My first clue was, “This person always gets a ride when they come to visit.” This resulted in blank stares from all the children so I gave the next clue, “This person is a woman, a female. It’s a girl who always gets a ride to our house when she visits.” More blank stares so I moved on to my next clue, “This person is very old. I’m thinking of a woman that is very old and always gets rides to our house when she visits. Any guesses now?”
I looked at Jack and he shouted, “Debbie!”
I said, trying really hard not to laugh, “That’s not who I’m thinking of. It’s a good guess but I’m thinking of someone that is really old.”
Wesley says, with a facial expression that only Wesley can have, “Debbie’s pretty old.”
“She’s not that old, the person I’m thinking of is much older,” I said.
Wesley responds, “But she’s old.”
It was time to move on from Debbie. “Good guess, Jack, but that’s not who I was thinking of. The person I’m thinking of is Grandpa’s mom,” I said.
Wesley shouts, “Grandma!”
“No, Grandma is not Grandpa’s mom, Wesley,” I respond.
“But Grandpa always calls her ‘mom,’” Wesley says.
“Yes he does,” I said, “but she’s not his mom.”
“Why does he call her that then?” Wesley asks.
I answered, “It’s a nickname from when your mommy was a kid. That’s definitely not who I was thinking of. Ok, the visitor that I’m thinking of is a girl who always gets a ride to our house and is Grandpa’s mom. Any more guesses?”
“Great Grandma!?” asks Jack.
“Yes! Great Grandma.”
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
No beach time would be complete without sufficient time building,
coming up empty-netted,
hopping on (and off and on and off and on...) the boat,
tolerating your photo-obsessed mother,
and transferring as much water from the lake to the beach as possible.
Looks like she liked it.
Day two held a lot more of the same: beach, beach and more beach.
More interrupted play from a photo-obsessed mother
and more improvisation when it came to sun-wear.
and more delightful sibling cooperation.
chatting with dad,
and fishing (for dragonflies).
You can't have a camp fire without s'mores.
are just cheeks
full of marshmallow.
Wes was really into the roasting part.
I don't think he ate many mallows, though,
because he wasn't sticky from head to toe.
Our little Elise mostly just enjoyed
But not so much the gliding. That may have had something to do with the wild ride her brothers were on, though.
and loved it.
Or maybe it's the memories of all the happy times we've just had
mixed with the sadness we feel about our cabin time coming to an end.
And the spontaneous sibling affection?
Say it with me: "Aww." (Yes - this really was spontaneous).
Then it fell apart
and the only one left having any fun was Wesley