October 24th, 2016
Dear Todd,
I'm not really sure where to start. The headline on this one sort of sums up my Monday. And as I make dinner right now, we still have a half-dressed 9 yr old who opts to "thrust" from time to time because his pants are off which, and I quote, "Makes me feel like a man."
I'm in over my head. Out over my ski's. And any other bad metaphor for "screwed without a solution." It's that time in a working person's day when you "clock out." You shut down the computer, you decide to face the world again in the morning with a warm cup of coffee. But he's still walking around. Half dressed. Now weilding a knife, cuz he's making his lunch.
But, for your reference let's get back to the removal of the pants.
All of our kids had fabulous plans with friends after school today. Upon picking up our eldest and dropping off our youngest's friend (all possible at one house as they are brothers) we lost our youngest to the trampoline.
In a scramble to come, when he could tell he was entering the "Consequence Zone" if he didn't appear at the front door by the time I counted to 5, he raced through the yard without looking and stepped in poop---a household staple when you own at least one furry creature of happiness that poops outside and no one wants to pick it up. Side note--we should just have a sign on our back door that reads, "There is an 80% chance you may step in poop out here. Play at your own risk."
Anyway...he stepped in poop. In his socks. And it also got onto the bottom of his pants. So, in an effort to keep poop from getting in our car, I asked him to put his socks and pants in a plastic bag.
Once the bottoms came off, he found it all the more tempting to hoist his shirt up and pat his belly. Naturally.
Hoisting his shirt revealed body art all around his belly button. Turns out it's performance art. He proceeded to double over and then sprang up making a popping sound followed by an "aaaah" sound. He was animating his belly button, which had been turned into a mouth for a face. But, as if that were not entertaining enough, above the face he wrote the letters "g" "m" "o".
"It says 'OMG!'" He explained as he saw us all staring.
"Did you write it in the mirror?" I asked.
"No, but I was looking upside down, so I was trying to get it right for people looking at it."
"It says 'GMO'," our eldest corrected.
"Oh!" Our youngest said laughing. "Ha! GMO!"
"Genetically Modified Organism," our eldest continued to educate his brother.
"Which I am!" he declared confidently.
As he walked away, I had to ask, "Is that Sharpie, GMO?"
"Yup," he proudly answered and then winked at me.
So...like I said, "Game over." Tapping Out." "Every man for himself."
P.S.
Our 7th grader just brought me his 9th grade "linear graph equations" and said, "I'm confused."
Don't worry I'll replace the beer for the game tomorrow.
Dear Todd,
I'm not really sure where to start. The headline on this one sort of sums up my Monday. And as I make dinner right now, we still have a half-dressed 9 yr old who opts to "thrust" from time to time because his pants are off which, and I quote, "Makes me feel like a man."
I'm in over my head. Out over my ski's. And any other bad metaphor for "screwed without a solution." It's that time in a working person's day when you "clock out." You shut down the computer, you decide to face the world again in the morning with a warm cup of coffee. But he's still walking around. Half dressed. Now weilding a knife, cuz he's making his lunch.
But, for your reference let's get back to the removal of the pants.
All of our kids had fabulous plans with friends after school today. Upon picking up our eldest and dropping off our youngest's friend (all possible at one house as they are brothers) we lost our youngest to the trampoline.
In a scramble to come, when he could tell he was entering the "Consequence Zone" if he didn't appear at the front door by the time I counted to 5, he raced through the yard without looking and stepped in poop---a household staple when you own at least one furry creature of happiness that poops outside and no one wants to pick it up. Side note--we should just have a sign on our back door that reads, "There is an 80% chance you may step in poop out here. Play at your own risk."
Anyway...he stepped in poop. In his socks. And it also got onto the bottom of his pants. So, in an effort to keep poop from getting in our car, I asked him to put his socks and pants in a plastic bag.
Once the bottoms came off, he found it all the more tempting to hoist his shirt up and pat his belly. Naturally.
Hoisting his shirt revealed body art all around his belly button. Turns out it's performance art. He proceeded to double over and then sprang up making a popping sound followed by an "aaaah" sound. He was animating his belly button, which had been turned into a mouth for a face. But, as if that were not entertaining enough, above the face he wrote the letters "g" "m" "o".
"It says 'OMG!'" He explained as he saw us all staring.
"Did you write it in the mirror?" I asked.
"No, but I was looking upside down, so I was trying to get it right for people looking at it."
"It says 'GMO'," our eldest corrected.
"Oh!" Our youngest said laughing. "Ha! GMO!"
"Genetically Modified Organism," our eldest continued to educate his brother.
"Which I am!" he declared confidently.
As he walked away, I had to ask, "Is that Sharpie, GMO?"
"Yup," he proudly answered and then winked at me.
So...like I said, "Game over." Tapping Out." "Every man for himself."
P.S.
Our 7th grader just brought me his 9th grade "linear graph equations" and said, "I'm confused."
Don't worry I'll replace the beer for the game tomorrow.
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