The Sunday Evening Post

We had our family pictures taken on not one, but two separate occasions this year.  As if we couldn’t be more full of ourselves.

The first session was done by our dear friend . . . and she did an amazing job!

Here is a group shot.  All my life .  . for all of eternity . . . I have longed for David to look content in a picture.  He doesn’t even have to smile.  All I ask is that he at least looks like he is fairly pleased with his lot in life.

And in this picture, I feel like he has finally obliged me.

Handsome Dude, on the other hand . . . .

Daisy Mae, myself, and Sweet Pea.

Sweet Pea will be 12 years old in days.  Mere DAYS I tell you.  What is wrong with the world?  I ask you?

Daisy Mae is 1o now-will be 11 in March.  Because apparently she feels it is perfectly acceptable to grow up, just like her sister.

Whatever.

We need to talk about this guy right here . . .

Gone are the days of broken glasses and peeing on my washing machine.  Long time readers will certainly recall all the angst this boy brought me.  And, yes, he can still be exasperating.  Believe you me.  He is, however, absolutely precious as well.  He is quite studious with his school work and he loves to help his dad.  He changes the garbage bag without anyone even asking him and loads the woodbox every day.  He is also the only child to hug me every day before he goes off to the breakfast line at school.

Getting him to wear clean pants is a challenge, but you have to choose your battles.

And then, there’s this guy.

Little Dude.  Also known as Captain McSpacey Pants.  Precious and aggravating all rolled into one.

Example:

His chore is to get the eggs everyday.  Here is a typical afternoon:

Me:  Dude, don’t forget to get the eggs.

Little Dude:  Oooh, right!  I hope I get 7 because then I will have 2 1-dozens!

He takes his egg collecting job quite seriously and regularly reports to his father on how many dozen eggs we have ready to sell in our fridge.

Yes.  We sell eggs.  We are THOSE people.

Little Dude starts go outside, but cannot find his shoes.  Once he finds his shoes, he will go outside, but forget to take the egg holder.  He will come back and get it and get distracted by a random Hot Wheel that he forget to pick up only moments ago.  Once he is finally outside, he will actually go and gather eggs.

Glory be!

Once he has gathered the aforementioned eggs, and thoroughly visited with all of his hen friends, he will set the carton down on the ground and go back to close the door of the coop.  Before he actually closes the door, he will spy one of our cats meandering nearby.  It is at this point, folks, that we have lost Little Dude.  He will not be able to focus on anything but cats for a good 20 minutes.

There is no point in trying to bring him back.

He is gone.

While Little Dude is chasing a poor cat around the “back 40”, the hens have noticed that the door to the coop is open and they decide to go and have a meet and greet all about the property.  Because this is what hens do when they have their freedom.

At some point, I will notice hens covering the property and yell for Little Dude.

LD:  Oooh, right!  Sorry , Mom!  I’ll get them in right away!

And he will spend another 20 minutes getting the hens put back in.

While he is headed back to the house with his egg bounty, he will most likely trip and drop one.

None of this will discourage him.  He will be happy as can be throughout the whole ordeal, and will most likely be singing Frozen songs during it.

And that is a summary of what it is like to live with Little Dude.

You’re welcome.

***

My parents also arranged a photo shoot with my entire side of the family, and we got two shots with that photographer.

I felt they turned out nicely as well!  I can’t believe how big my kids are getting . . . .

*tear*

***

And what’s a blog post from me without some poor creature meeting its untimely demise?

 

Daisy Mae was able to go hunting on a mentor tag with her dad and got herself this here buck.

It was all very exciting.

And I have a lot of scary meat in my fridge now.

Happy Sunday!