We had hot dogs for dinner tonight--all beef, Zach's favorite. Something about the hot dogs reminded the kids about little smokies and they started getting reminiscent. Here's what Tim said:
"Christmas is the best time of the year, because we get to eat all those special foods that are so expensive. Like little smokies and Baby Bells." Long pause while he contemplates how lovely it would be if only Christmas were coming this week.
"Mom, all I want for Christmas is a whole pack of little smokies just for myself."
Zach: "I want a whole pack of bacon!"
Tim: "Oh, yeah. A whole pack of bacon. And some bear meat."
He had such a terrific week this week--reverent in Primary last week, working hard at school all week, finally checked out Harry Potter 4 from the school library (our home copy is MIA. The regular librarian wouldn't let him take a copy out from the school library because she thought it "would take him too long to read it." With typical Timmy determination, he kept sneaking back into the library until at last Mrs. Vanderpol, the aide, was manning the check out counter, and, as he confided," Y'know, mom, she doesn't pay too good attention, so..." big grin.) On Saturday he played an unbelievably heads up game of soccer.
Then today in primary, inexplicably, HE WAS TERRIBLE!!! He blurted out answers, sang random songs while he was supposed to be quiet, was quiet when he should have been singing, terrorized a little five year old in the row just ahead of him, tried to bribe Isaac (who according to his parents was just as inexplicably having the most reverent and attentive primary of his life) into using a livestrong band to flip his neighbor, hid behind the chalkboard when he failed to get a match in the memory game, and I have no idea what else after he left sharing time!!! Arghh.
Uncle Nigel (baby Nigel insists that Nigel is HIS name and if we want to refer to that other guy, we better use his WHOLE name which starts with an Uncle) taught the boys, all four of them, to play goal line stand. As they were dragging and whacking each other all over the living room he also informed them that once, in the course of the game, Uncle Scott dragged Uncle Stu down the stairs. Good hustle, Stu. Way to hang in there. I'm pondering whether or not the services of a full time ref are in the budget. Do you think Porter could be trained to do it?
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3 comments:
I know what Timmy means about those special foods. One time I saved up my paper route money and bought myself a whole tub of cool whip. I dug in with a spoon, but after a few bites it just wasn’t as good as I thought it would be. So I stirred in some lemon koolaide. That was way too intense so I added some cornflakes to mellow it out a little. That threw the texture off, so I froze it for a while. Then I finally had to confess defeat and I threw it away. So watch out, Timmy. A whole package of little smokeys might be more that you bargain for.
I'd like to say that my main motivation was to pass the torch, but really I just loved playing living room football again. Getting tackled by little Nigel is always worth it - easily the most enthusiastic player.
How can Zach tell if a hot dog is all beef? ha ha. And if that is Tim's bad primary day, we are in trouble. That's only half the trouble Ryan gets into. I don't think I've ever had a good reverence report from his teachers. Usually just a haggard look and the teachers trying to avoid my eyes.
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