Picture tag

I know, I know, it's been weeks. I'm too overwhelmed by all that I ought to blog about (Thanksgiving, the spontaneous trip to Disneyland, vivid dreams, idle musings, etc.) so I just don't blog at all. Thankfully, I was tagged to:

Go to my pictures.

Go to the fourth file & upload the fourth picture (ha, this is assuming I actually ORGANIZE my pictures...)

Tell the story of the picture.

Tag four friends. 

Well, here it is folks:

This is my nephew. He was dressed as a wizard for Halloween (in a rather impressive homemade costume, might I add - though that chin strap was becoming quite the bother by the end of the night). We went trick-or-treating with him and his family, and though I don't remember for sure how the conversations went, I'm sure he was regaling us with little-known facts about animals we've never heard of and countries we didn't know existed. As something of a child prodigy, he is known to do that. 

Here's the part where I tag no one, because I don't deal well with rejection. If you need something to blog about, give picture tag a try!

Adventures in Primary

Bishop, holding up a picture of the Salt Lake Tabernacle, asks if anyone can tell him what the building is. After several wrong guesses, he gives the answer, whereupon the girl sitting next to me leans over and says, "Oh yeah, I've been in that hibernacle." (Matt was quick to point out that the building does, indeed, become a "hibernacle" for many a warm, sleepy Conference-goer.)

Later, in class, we're talking about consequences. After discussing the effects of our choices for a moment (if you don't water a plant, it dies; if you stick a pin in a balloon, it pops, etc.), I ask the class, "What happens if I choose to stay up too late and don't get enough sleep?" They shout, "You'll overreact!"  "You'll cry!"

Smart kids. Except for the part where they thought "agency" had something to do with being a spy...

And I just have to throw this in here; there's a girl in my class who says to me every week (no typos here, this is how she says it): "My birthday is Nothember 24th, re-nem-ber???"

Gotta love those kids.

Misplaced

On any given day at our house, you might find...

...spices in your briefcase.

...silverware in the fridge.

...lip gloss in the dishwasher.

...Tupperware in the hamper.

...cans of soup in the toy basket.

...hair gel in the toilet.

...pens in the printer.

...your toothbrush in the garbage (or, you might NOT find your retainer there before it's too late).

...one self-satisfied little menace in a tiger costume:

...a silly mommy dressed as Kung Fu Panda:

Like how I tried to sneak in the Halloween pics a week and a half after the fact?

Another One of Matt's Brilliant Ideas, Part 1

Brilliant Idea #1: "Let's invite the neighbors to a pot luck dinner and offer to make the water."

Brilliant Idea #2: (while contemplating how to act while being evaluated during his seminary class): "I'll say, 'Anyone who doesn't think I am the best seminary teacher you've ever had, light your neighbor's hair on fire. Better yet, light YOUR hair on fire.' "

Honorable mention goes to Matt's brother Mike for his solution to the current economic crisis: "Sell California. I'm sure Japan would buy it."

On wearing a patch

Back at Truman's 12-month well baby visit, our pediatrician suggested that we go see a pediatric eye doctor. 

For two months I put off making the appointment.

By the time I got around to making the call, they were scheduling two and a half weeks out.

When we got to the office, we waited for 20 minutes before filling out any paperwork. (Of the half-dozen other kids in the waiting room, most were wearing glasses, and one had a patch. Cute for Halloween, but...not for my opinionated little pirate-in-embryo.)

We waited another 20 minutes to have two drops put in his eyes.

We were told to leave and come back 45 minutes later once his eyes were dilated.

We left. We came back. Truman fell asleep. We woke him up. We waited for the doctor to come in.

He came in for two minutes and made some "pss pss" noises while shining a light in Truman's eyes.

And finally, two and a half hours after we first arrived, we received the grim pronouncement:

"His eyes are perfect."

I guess it's worth a $35 co-pay and a long afternoon to know for sure, huh?

Stay tuned for the first edition of "Another One of Matt's Brilliant Ideas," coming soon...

Curious

I've decided that watching Curious George stresses me out. For starters, George is always getting confused about things, making a mess, forgetting – all of which are painful realities in my own life that I am trying to avoid and/or keep a lid on. Today he was babysitting a kitten. A monkey babysitting a kitten? Stressful. 

Secondly, what is with the Man in the Yellow Hat? Does it bother anyone else that a grown, nameless man insists on being clothed entirely in yellow and that his closest friend in the world is his pet monkey? (Don't you need a special permit to even own an exotic pet like a monkey?) And what kind of job does the Man have that lets him dig for and assemble dinosaur bones, explore Antarctica, and travel in space? And WHY does he leave George alone, ever?

These are the burning questions, folks.

In other news, a few things I'm grateful for lately: 1) Our computer died last week and then miraculously resurrected. Hallelujah! 2) Working kitchen lights. We do not have these at the moment as our fluorescent bulbs are burned out, but I am grateful for the days when they did function (and anxiously anticipate the return of those days). 3) One adorable baby boy. Look at this face:

I am in love. 

Questions You Don't Want to Hear from Your Primary Class...

...all in one day:

My mom told me to ask you - was Jesus married?

Can I have some more Skittles?

Do the devil's angels look like God's angels? How do you tell the difference?

Want to trade shoes?

Can I have some more Skittles?

Why does my belly button make this waxy stuff? Is it wax? Why does it hurt to pull it out?

Can I wear your earrings?

Don't angels have wings and halos? How do they fly without WINGS?

Can I have some more Skittles?

If he hits me and we're following the Golden Rule, when do I get to hit him back?

Can I have some more Skittles?