The Lumberjack's Wife

So.  It’s a bummer when your laptop’s power supply stops working.  And it takes you forever and a day to get a new one.  Hence the lack of blogging as of late.  But here I am, all is well.

Thanksgiving.

We went to David’s parents house first for Thanksgiving and had a most enjoyable time, per usual.  Jason and Amy, the happy newlyweds, came.

Me:  So . . . what’s new with you guys?

Jason:  Amy is NOT pregnant!

Sheesh.  Get asked that much there, Jas-Bud?  And now, because it is Monday, I must now share the ever so popular photo of Jason, that you all know and love.

After we had our feast, we loaded up the family and headed to my parents house for feast #2, because we like to watch our waistlines like that.  My mother has already decked her halls and there are roughly 27 Christmas trees of various shapes and sizes in her humble abode.

Little Dude (with a twinkle in his eye):  Christmas!  Christmas came to Grams’ house, Mama!

Yes.  Yes, it did, son.

My mother’s Thanksgiving table:

Excuse me.  I believe I ordered the LARGE pinecone.

After our gluttonous feast, we decided to go to see The Muppets movie, much to David’s chagrin.  Am I the only one who thinks “chagrin” should be spelled with an “sh?”  What is the matter with people?  Within the first five minutes, the entire movie screen was flooded with grown adults singing and dancing in the streets.  This caused David to murder me with his eyes, because apparently it is all my fault.

We had popcorn at the movies.  Between us and my parents, I believe we consumed about 4 tubfuls.  Because we like to watch our waistlines like that.  Take that, Weight Watchers!

At the end of the movie, the muppets sang some Mahna Mahna song, similar to this one:

Daisy Mae, who was apparently feeling spunky after helping in the partaking of bottomless sodas and popcorn, decided to entertain us all with a little ditty about what she thinks David does while hunting.  She would hold pretend binoculars, do a funky dance and sing:

“Mahna Mahna!  I see a deer! Mahna Mahna!  I’m going to shoot it! Mahna Mahna!”

It was humorous.  To us, at least.  David was still murdering me dead with his eyes.

Black Friday.

I stayed the night at my parents’ house on Thanksgiving, all for the sake of shopping.  Because all adult children should stay the night at their parents’ house again at least once.  One time, Sister Meagan was coming home and mother called to warn her that, due to other house guests who would be staying there, she might not have a bed.

Sister Meagan:  Oh, that’s cool.  I can just sleep with you and dad.

Sister Meagan.  Getting all handsome on the family bed.  For the record, I don’t think she did.  I hope.  David decided that I would be sleeping with my parents, because he finds himself to be hilarious. I did not, thank you very much.  I slept in my own room.  And it had a Christmas tree.  And I had my own bathroom.  And it had a Christmas tree.  So that was festive.

So mother and I went shopping and we meandered into Victoria’s Secret.  These things tend to happen.

Me:  David is going to think this is fantastic.

Now, dear readers.  Of course I was meaning he would find it hilarious that we were at THAT store, since he also assumed we would be sharing a bed.  (but we didn’t, I promise).

Mom:  Oh!  Does David get excited when you shop here?

Me:  Ew!  No!  Ew!  Mom!

And that concludes today’s edition of:

“Conversations I never wished to have with my mother.”

On Friday evening, we went to David’s sister’s house for dinner.  She served lasagna.

David:  Did you like you lasagna, Taylor?

Me:  Yes.

David:  Because it had elk in it!  Ha!

So, there.  My long-running streak of abstaining from elk was thwarted.  I was punk’d.  Elk style.

On Saturday, we celebrated my mother-in-law’s 60th birthday by going to the water park and Pizza Hut.  Because everyone’s mother-in-law likes to race all her grandchildren down water slides when she turns 60.  I for one, was uber excited to don a bathing suit in November.  And yes, the Maliblahblah family pushed the limits, as they are wont to do, and did receive several whistle blows from disapproving lifeguards.

And that concludes my Thanksgiving-ish recap.  I hope you all had a fantastic times with your families!

Well.  That’s fun.  It took me almost two hours to drive home last night, as opposed to the usual one hour.

David was able to plow our driveway in record time last night.  He used his uber manly bull dozer and was done in about 45 minutes.  And our driveway is totes going to be ripped to shreds by the time spring rolls around (which comes around the end of June here)  (because we live in a tropical area, didn’t you know?).

Last year, I used to don my long underwear and help him with the driveway.  Together, we were able to get it done in about three hours using a snow blower and a 4 wheeler with a plow.  And now I am wondering if plow is spelled plough?  But probably not.  I homeschool, so I am pretty sure I excel at spelling, grammar, and the like.  Plow it is.

Yesterday was “going to town” day.  Always exciting, and a good reason for me to don the largest earrings I own.

Large earrings.  I enjoy them.

I had a dr appointment for my unmentionable areas and my sis in law had a dentist appointment, so we coordinated childcare.  My whole day was centered around getting the buy one get one free holiday drinks at Starbucks, because I was predicting my appointment to be a total downer.  And I was right.  I showed up around 11 am to get deliciousness in a cup to ease the horrors of the events I had just persevered through when, much to my chagrin, the deal was not in effect until 2pm.

Lame.

So, we hung out and I forced Lisa, who is more woman that I shall ever be, to teach me the art of cutting hair.

I, yes, I, Taylor Maliblahblah, learned how to cut all FOUR of my children’s hair.

BAM!

(see?  I TOLD you I like large earrings.)

My husband, the frugal man that he is, shall rise and call me blessed.

Little Dude was having issues with hair getting all over his face during the deed.

He was displeased.

I only have one “after” shot, because I am slothful and lazy.

Not too bad, my friends.  Not too bad.

The kids made a snowman with their cousins.  Or, more accurately, a snow lady.  They named her “Fragile.”  On account of her always falling apart.

This was the best shot I got.  I tried, people.  I tried.

Alright.  I am off to do laundry, organize homeschool curriculum, and form raw elk flesh into Lil’ Cheddar Meatloves.

Please.  Try to contain your jealousy.

PS-Guess who’s glasses just broke at this very moment?

Go on.

Guess.

I made these homemade rolls for dinner tonight.  For I am Susie Fantastic, didn’t you know?

(recipe)

100 (meaningless) points to anyone who can guess where I found the recipe.

Hint:  It starts with a “P” and ends with an . . . “interest” . . . . and I may or may not have become obsessed with it.

David walked in as I was rolling the dough into the uber cute little roll balls.  He looked all excited-like and asked me if I was making cookies.  You can imagine his disappointment.

David didn’t even try one of my rolls (lame), although the kids loved them.  Except for Handsome Dude.  They made him sausage, you know?  But everything makes him sausage.  Except for Tootsie rolls.  And he says Tootsie wrong, which isn’t surprising.  He substitutes the “oo” sound for the short “i.”

Changes the meaning a bit, eh?

Dinner is over. I am blogging.  Willie Nelson is singing.  David is making cookies.  Such is life.  I probably won’t have a cookie, since I am a total health guru and all.

I am feeling a little blue tonight, a little forlorn, if you will.  It happens.  So, let us talk about things that will cheer me up.

Things I find humorous.

1)  This picture.

Because I like to look at it and say:

“What is UP with Sister Meagan’s hair?”

Plus I totally look 30 in that picture, which is fantastic and all.  I look like I need a shawl.  And my mom has lost tons of weight and now I probably double her in size.  So that is fun.

2)  Have I mentioned David is making cookies?  I am excited.  I will have four one with a glass of milk.

3)  Skim milk.  Obviously.

4)  My husband just told me my eyes glisten whilst I am at the computer.  I will take it as a profession of his undying love for me and my 30-year old beauty.

5)  Little Dude keeps sneaking upstairs to watch High School Musical 2.

(source)

He takes out his train DVD and pops that one in when no one is looking.

6)  Suddenly this picture makes a lot more sense . . .

7) I would like to send this card to a few Facebook friends.

(source)

LOL.

8)  Attention Dad:  LOL stands for Laughing out Loud.  FYI.

9)  Update:  I am currently eating a cookie.

10)  With SKIM milk.

11)  I had to take the girls in for their home school portfolio conferences this week.  Just go with it. I don’t have the time to explain.

Sweet Pea was doing a cheer for the teacher and she had to spell out “Victory.”

Sweet Pea:  “Give me a V!  Dot the I!  Curve the C!  T-R-O-Y, T-R-O-Y!”

12)  Clearly, I am the world’s best homeschooling mom.  VicTROY is mine!

Alright.  That’s all I got.  Feel free to share something humorous with me, to ease my woe.  Or I can just eat more cookies.

And I will.

Farewell!

Hello!  Today I am linking up with Joyce and her uber cool questions.  Feel free to join in, if you so desire.

“Running Bear” by Sonny James.  And no.  You haven’t heard of it.  No one has.

Every time I hear that opening “oomba, oomba, oomba,” I get chills.  Chills, people.

You may proclaim: “Taylor!  Why,  isn’t that is a disturbing song about two lovers dying?”

Yes.  Yes it is.

Drool if you must.  That is man is all mine.

8. Insert your own random thought here

Little Dude, being the slave to fashion that he clearly is, dressed himself the other day.

Snazzy.

Yes.  My walls are still peach.

What of it?

It’s Monday night!  And you know what is absolutely necessary?

A picture in which a bunny is smiling.  You’re welcome.

Sweet Pea’s birthday is coming up.  Well, not really.  But to an 8 year old, it is definitely right around the corner.  Her birthday is December 31st and it is the only birthday of our children my husband can remember.

Why?

Tax break.

Anyways, she has come up with this uber exciting plan for her birthday festivities that basically excludes all loved ones in her life, except my dad.

Here is a picture of Sweet Pea with her PopPop.

Feel free to pin my fantastic rendition of a Titanic cake on The Pinterest.  The people will thank you.

Sweet Pea’s 9th birthday wish?

Brace yourselves.

She would like PopPop to take her to:

A)  The library near Ruralville

B)  The library in the town we used to live in

C)  Take a break and get a corn dog (ew).

D)  The library in a completely unrelated town.

E)  Join the rest of the family and feast on a cake shaped like a book.

Dang, Sweet Pea.

What’s up, my nerd?

Aaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnndddddddddddd . . . . I love her.

So.  My first child is almost nine.  When I think about how fast time flies, I sorta panic and start lecturing myself on all things I’m not, scolding myself for not being that “perfect” mom I always thought I could be.

I’m not very patient.  I’m not very fun.  I’m not very crafty (surprise!).  I’m not very organized.  I’m not the best teacher.  I’m not the best baker.

Sometimes, I’m not even very nice.  Which truly is a bummer.

In spite of me, Sweet Pea is growing up to be a fine, young lady.  One of the things I am most proud of is her desire to seek the Lord.  She is very disciplined at studying the Bible, memorizing verses, and establishing her own devotion time.

A habit, regretfully, she probably hasn’t picked up too well from me.  Since I’ve had kids, my days are turned upside down and nothing is predictable, making it hard for me to have a consistent devotion time.

Case in point:

I bathed two boys this morning and got them dressed in nice, fresh clothes. I started the girls on some school and told them I would be right back after I loaded the fire.  I was downstairs, when Handsome Dude peered out from the downstairs bathroom to inform me he had a bit of trouble wiping his bum.

There was poop all over hisself.

And, yes.  Hisself is not a word.  But fun, nonetheless.

So, I take him upstairs to the bath where, lo and behold, Little Dude is standing with the SAME POOP PROBLEMS all over hisself.

Twenty minutes later, I return to girls who are making up songs and dances.  Which is, most assuredly, not in the homeschool curriculum.

So, there you have it.  An example of my day.  Don’t be jealous.

Anyways.  I have learned that if I wait around for the perfect “quiet time” to come around, well, it might just not come around.  Sure, some days are better than others, but most days are plain hectic, and I have learned the simple beauty in praying while folding laundry . . . reading a few verses when I have a moment . . . and switching the music to worship songs.

My friend has written a book called “Never Go Hungry Again.”  She is giving it away for free and I had the privilege of reading it a couple of weeks ago.

I loved it.  I was encouraged, challenged, and convicted while reading it.  I want my children to remember me making God a priority in my life!  I want them to see me spending time with Him more.

Anyways, since I loved it so much, I wanted to share the link with you all, as I know many of you who read this are also busy moms who have hectic days, just like me.

The book becomes free to everyone on November 15th.  If you are reading this on the 14th, you can sign up for the email reminder.  The book downloaded extremely fast for me and I was even able to read it easily on my phone.

(This is not an ad and I am not getting paid to send you here or anything.  I just read my free copy, found it extremely helpful, and wanted to share it with you!  Angela, does however, know I exist.  And she feels blessed in that knowledge.  Ha! Kidding!)

(Or am I?)

Alright.  I’m off to do laundry, oh joy of joys.

Later, my nerds.

Happy Veterans Day!  Thank you to all who have served and are serving our country.  My grandparents both served.  They are gone now, but I have many wonderful memories of them.

My friend Erin’s husband is currently deployed.  I cannot imagine how hard this sacrifice must be for them.  So, thank you.

***

It is 12:55 pm on a chilly Friday afternoon and I have not done my hair, nor my makeup.

Gasp if you must.

What do I care?  No one sees me. I showered.  I am wearing real clothes, not sweats.  We are going to church in a bit and I shall make the necessary preparations before departure.

So, just a bit ago, I was doing the boys’ Bible lessons with them.  Which isn’t as easy as one might think.

Me:  Who wrote the Bible?

Little Dude:  NOT me!

Poor guy.  He is kinda always in trouble for something.  He wanted to make sure he didn’t get blamed for something else.

Me:  No.  Dude.  Not who wrote IN the Bible.  Who wrote the Bible?

Little Dude:  Oh.  Ummm.  Jesus?  God?  Jesus and God?  Hmmm.  God.

Me:  That’ll work.

Handsome Dude:  Mom.  Are you a different Mommy today?

Me:  No.  I am the same Mom you have always had.

HD (short for Handsome Dude . . . keep up, people!):  Why does your hair look like that?

Me:  I just didn’t fix it yet.  Why?

HD:  It not look good, Mom.

Me:  Ok.  Thanks.

HD:  It looks cranky.  You can’t go to church.  The people will be scared.

He said that.  I kid you not.  And I wasn’t planning on blogging today, but I was afraid I would forget that lovely conversation with my son, the fruit of my loins, so I hopped right onto the computer to forever record this horrific memory in time.  “Fruit of my loins” is a disturbing phrase.

I need coffee.

I have still given up the creamer.  It’s not so bad, although the sky is no longer blue, the sun no longer shines, and I never hear birds singing amongst the trees.  But I’m sure I will get used to it.

I had to go to Handsome Dude’s parent/teacher conference last night.  This may confuse you, as I claim to homeschool.  And I do homeschool the girls, but I outsource the education of the boy.  Because I have cranky hair and no creamer in my cup and something has to give, you know?

I kid!  I jest!  He is in preschool, but I will homeschool him when he is in kindergarten and the other boy will go to preschool next year.

I know.  It confuses even myself.

So, I went and was all afeared to hear what the teacher was going to say.  And no, I do not know if afeared is an actual word.  I blame the black coffee.  Now, Handsome Dude has eye problems.  This we knew to be truth.  And I recently switched him to a different doctor in the big city and she completely changed his prescription for glasses and told me that his little brain was going to have to relearn images.

I know.  It confuses even myself.

So, Handsome Dude is a bit behind.  The teacher was telling me that he does not try to draw or write anything, he just scribbles.

Me:  I have noticed that.

Teacher:  So, that’s just something we will all keep working on.

Me:  So . . . is he . . . well-behaved in class?

Teacher:  Yes!

Me:  Mmmm-hmmm.  And if you try to, oh, I don’t know, help him with his drawing, does he let you?

Teacher:  What do you mean?

Me:  Well.  If I try to help him, he yells and shouts and gets frustrated and throws himself on the floor with his little hiney in the air and then pretends his legs no longer work and lays there like an infant for a few minutes before getting up again at the table.  Does he do this for you?

Teacher:  No!  Never!  He is such a little sweetheart!  A delight!

What.

A.

Punk.

Me and my cranky hair are gonna get that kid writing letters.  Even if it kills me.

Let’s do a COW.  Because I am trying to avoid starting school again this afternoon.

Deb wrote:

One time I had jury duty for 4 days and I accidentally got derailed from homeschooling for 6 weeks.

True Story.

I have NO idea how that could happen.

Alright.  I’m gonna go get all handsome on a curling iron.

Later.

After dinner last night, David asked me if I had driven into town to vote.

Me:  No.  I forgot.  Did you?

David:  No.

Me:  Hmmm . . .

David:  If we leave now, we can make it before they close at 8.

Me:  Ok.

So, we informed the children with our plans to go voting, and our plans were met with much resistance.

“But, Moooooooom!  Look outside!  It’s dark time!”

“I have to put my SHOES on?”

“We are going boating?!?”

“Do we have to drive FOREVER?”

“Do I need my swimsuit?”

“Can I bring my DS?”

“I don’t wanna go boating!”

“I not need shoes, Mom!  I need BOOTS!”

“It’s too cold to go anywhere!”

And so, we rushed around, trying to make everyone look presentable.  David went out to start the rig, because our rig is fickle beast that does not like chillsome weather.

With great effort and four billion questions, we were able to locate:

4 children, 6 jackets, 6 pairs of socks, 5 pairs of shoes, 1 pair of  Toy Story Cowboy boots (100 meaningless points to anyone who can guess who wears those), 1 pair of mittens for Daisy Mae who was still wondering why we were going boating, and 2 Nintendo DS players.

Now, this is not town  town.  This is the actual town of Ruralville, home to about 200 peoples.  So not much was happening.

We unloaded the children and got them all situated to sit and be quiet while we voted, or boated if you are still a confused Daisy Mae.  We threatened them with their lives and bribed them with the promise of candy and good fortune if they promised to SIT AND BE QUIET.

David went in to vote and was greeted by a lovely Ruralvillite lady who was wearing the ever-popular sweatshirt with a lace doily stitched around the collar.

If you enjoy the look of a sweatshirt with a lace doily stiched around the collar while manning a voting booth, I mean you no ill-will.  I, myself, wear a flannel shirt while grinding elk meat for my beloved.

To each his own.

Doily Lady:  I’m sorry, sir, but you are not allowed to vote in this election.

David:  Oh!  Why?

Doily Lady:  Well, you do not live within any city limits, and therefore you cannot vote.  But I do thank you for coming by.

David:  Oh.  Ok!

Boy did we feel sheepish.  So, we tried to usher out our ever-confused children when Little Dude started shouting.  Which does not surprise anyone.

“I want to see the WATER!”

Doily Lady:  Well, we have a drinking fountain?

Little Dude:  NO!  WATER!

Me:  I’m sorry.  He thinks we are going out on a boat.

This did not impress Doily Lady.

Little Dude:  NO!  WATER AND THE ROCKS AND THE WATER FALLING DOWN AND ALL AROUND ON IT!

Little Dude is trembling and heartbroken and I have no idea why he thinks we were going to see a waterfall.  He had to live with that disappointment.

So, we load them all back into the rig and David decides that since he has already wasted gas money on this pointless adventure, we shall take the scenic route home so we can look for deer.

Because we never see deer at home.

Handsome Dude to his sister:  Give me your DS.  Now!

Sweet Pea:  No.

Handsome Dude:  Yes!

Sweet Pea:  NO.

Handsome Dude:  MY TEACHER . . . MY TEACHER . . . MY TEACHER . . . TEACHER SAYS THAT ALL THE CHILL-REN IN THE WORLD NEED TO SHARE. SO YOU

GIVE

ME

THAT

DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!

Sweet Pea:  No.

We live in beautiful harmony.

I was horribly car sick, because David drives like a hillbilly down yonder country roads.  I got completely disoriented and had to ask him if we were even still in our home state.

David (laughing at my ignorance):  Yes, Taylor.

Me:  If you were to make me drive right now, I would have no idea where we were.  I would have to use the GPS.

David:  Use your GPS!  That would be hilarious.

Me:  Fine.  I will.

So I went to type in the address, became dizzy from car sickness, went back to type the address, then got distracted by an email.

All the kids:  WOW!  Look at that!  Wow!

Me:  What?

David (laughing at my ignorance):  You didn’t see that?!

Me:  No.  I was checking my email.  What happened?

David:  Like 10 deer ran right in front of us!

Me:  Oh.  Neat.

And that was our night.  The night where we tried to be good citizens and vote and were denied.

That is all.

I have been wading deep in the depths of homeschooling despair, and therefore, have had a hard time posting as of late.  I have only a bit of time, since the kids are outside on “recess”, so let’s go with a list today.

1)  I took Sweet Pea and Little Dude in for eye exams last week.  Sweet Pea still needs glasses (she has the same eye problems as Handsome Dude).

Little Dude does NOT need glasses.  The Lord has looked down upon me with favor.

2)  Little Dude is something else these days.  When the doctor came in with her two assistants, he SHOUTED, as per his usual custom:

“Hey, YOU.  Hey, LADY.  Why you need those TEACHERS with you?”

And when they would try to cover one eye and ask him to read pictures, he would smack their hands away and give them the stink eye and tell them to “STOP COVERING MY EYE, TEACHER!”

Because he is lovely like that.  Very well-behaved young man.

3)  When poor Sweet Pea was trying to do her exam, he would shout the answers to her.

“Hey, it’s C!”

“No! Is not a D, sister, it’s a P!”

I had to restrain him with my hand over his mouth for most of the visit.  Didn’t look dysfunctional at all.

4)  A dear friend who must not really read my blog, offered to watch Handsome Dude and Daisy Mae while I took Sweet Pea and Sir Shouting Pants to the eye doctor.  Then, the aforementioned friend made us a delish lunch and let us all stay for awhile and visit.

She’s one of those crafty peoples who I am envious of.  Her house was like being in Pinterest.  I just kept looking around, pinning ideas so that I might steal them.

But I won’t steal them.  Because I lack creativity, sewing skills, basic hand/eye coordination, and, loveliness, in general.

When we left, Daisy Mae asked me:
“Mom!  Was she the Pioneer Woman?”

5)  She is my Pioneer Woman.

6)  I am switching to black coffee.  FYI.

7)  Handsome Dude is constantly saying he wishes we lived at our old house in town.  The other day, I asked him if he was starting to like our new country house.

HD:  Well.  Mom?  You know that freeway?  That road?

He is referring to the highway we have to take to get back into town.  We have to drive on it for about 30 miles or so.

HD:  Well, I not like that road.  It takes too long to get somewhere.

I thought that was cute.  So I shared it with you.  You are so very welcome.

8)  I strongly believe that cutting out my favorite chocolate raspberry creamer, of which I am shamelessly addicted to, will cause me to lose 10 pounds instantly.

What say you?

9)  Handsome Dude told me my dinner was “too sausage” last night.

Whenever Handsome Dude doesn’t like something, he weeps and wails for all the injustice in the world and cries:

“It makes me sausage, you know?”

What a punk. And I made him eat it ALL, just for spite.

10)  Even if it was kinda of sausage.  You know?

11)  Little Dude has called me “Dad” several times today.

12)  I feel pretty today.  Very feminine.

13)  I have gone 7 whole hours without creamer and my pants are not any looser.

14)  Fun Idea:  We had a game night last night and I let the kids make their own milkshakes using up some Halloween candy.

Because nothing makes candy healthier like smooshing it into ice cream.

Bad Idea:  Trying to play Pictionary with the dudes.

Even Worse Idea:  Handsome Dude chose Smarties and Jolly Ranchers for his candy milkshake.

15)  That makes me sausage, you know?

16)  I took all four children to the MALL yesterday, because I like to inflict misery upon myself.  A lovely, older lady and her husband came up to me:

Lovely Lady:  What lovely children!

Me:  Thank you!

Lovely Lady:  Oh, wow!  The littlest one . . . he doesn’t look like the others, does he?

Me:  No.  No, he doesn’t.

Lovely Lady’s Husband:  Looks like you got three track stars and a linebacker there,  Mom!

17)  It’s true.  Little Dude is kinda buff.  For a kid who weighs 35 pounds.

18)  I have no idea how much he actually weighs.  35 pounds sounds good.

19)  Yes.  Little Dude is David’s child.  Stop whispering shameless rumors about me.

20)  This list is a bit long.  My apologies.

21)  Speaking of Little Dude’s paternity, here is a funny little story about David’s sense of humor regarding the whole sitch.  I have shared it before.  But it is necessary for you in the upcoming item #22 of this very list you are now reading.

I work in children’s ministry at our church.  There is this guy who works in children’s too, and I have not one clue what his name is.

For the purposes of this post, we will call him Gerald. Simply for the fact that Gerald is a fanstastic name.

Gerald is always hollering (not holla/nor hola) to me from across the lobby.

“There she is!”

“Hey, you!”

“Here comes trouble!”

Am I trouble?

Anyways, I find Gerald’s actions to be odd.  But I smile and nod and get the heck away.

Because there’s one thing I know about Gerald:

I don’t know who Gerald is.

Anyways, I never told the Lumberjack about Gerald, nor had Lumberjack ever witnessed Gerald hollering at me.

One night as we were in the parking lot, Gerald walked by The Lumberjack and I.

Gerald:  Hey!  There she is! WooHoo!

And then he did that weird like thumbs up shaking thing that cool people, other than myself, do at times to express great excitement.

And Gerald continued to head into the building where he would be serving in children’s ministry, bless his heart.

The Lumberjack sighed and looked at me.

“That’s Little Dude’s dad . . .isn’t it?”

ha!

22)  When we were walking into church last Friday night, Little Dude was ahead of me with David.  When I got into the building, I noticed Little Dude was not with David.  I asked David where he was, and David, being the more responsible parent, did not know.

I panicked a bit and searched the bathrooms and alerted a few friends to help me find him.

My friend,Shelly, came down the hall, holding Little Dude, and laughing hysterically.

Shelly:  You’ll never guess who found him!

Me:  Who?

Shelly: Gerald!

Alright!  Recess is over.  Children are in my midst. Coffee is in my veins.

Homeschooling.

Let’s do this.