>The cowboy called from work the other night. He called the house phone. I answered the house phone. He said, "Did you make it home?" Ummm. No.
>John Mark was looking at a book on my desk, pointed to the title "Crazy Love", and said, "Is THAT the name of the book?" Kevin responded, "No, John Mark, those are just random words they printed on the cover to see if anyone would buy it." Ummm. Yeah.
>Last Saturday we watched the last few minutes of the movie "Splash" before the Olympics came on. John Candy and a very young Tom Hanks were playing raquetball. I said, "Wow. Look how skinny he is!" To which my husband replied, "Who? John Candy?" Ummm, yeah, John Candy.
He Might Have a Point
>Today was our secretary's birthday, and as is our office tradition we all went out to lunch together. During the conversation, Melissa said she had discovered that men (one specifically) did not have the ability to multi-task. I had to take exception. I disagree with her, because, as I went on to explain, ALL the men I know have the ability to multi-task . . . although this ability is limited to a certain location. Tell me, what man do you know who does not text, sing, make phone calls, read novels or even do his taxes . . . while on the toilet? I'm just saying.
Terrell went on to say that I wouldn't even KNOW this information if I didn't keep walking into the men's bathroom while it's occupied.
He might have a point. :o)
What's in a Name?
>My daughter's dog is a female, but Kevin and I still choose to call her "Mr. Squiggles" just to tick off Kacey. Every time the dog jumped up onto Kevin this past weekend, he threatened to turn her into Korean barbecue. Made me laugh.
>While in church Sunday morning, the minister was reading about Thomas (who was also called Didymus), when Kacey and Nathan looked at each other and exclaimed (in a loud whisper) THAT would be their child's name. And since the wee little unborn G-child is already being called Peanut based on the appearance of the first ultrasound, it was decided the full name would be Peanut Didymus . . . or P. Didy for short. :o)
>My son has taken to threatening my life in bizarre and creative ways. Mostly he reminds me on a regular basis that he will be the one choosing my retirement home. A few months ago he downgraded me from a bad nursing home to an alley with a dumpster. Mostly though, when I get on his nerves, which, you know, almost never happens, he threatens to sneak into my room while I'm sleeping and shove dry Q-tips up my nose. Last week, however, he threatened to bludgeon me with an orange Tootsie Pop.
If his body didn't so closely resemble an orange Tootsie Pop, (scrawny white body, big orange head) I might be threatened.
>I texted Kacey last Friday afternoon to tell her we were on the road and heading to Indy. She texted back and said, "Don't forget to bring the red thing." What red thing? "The red thing with the brown polka dots." HUH? No sooner had I requested she explain than Kevin said, "Mom. Red thing with brown polka dots. She's talking about me." Sure enough, she was. Made me laugh. A lot.
Okay, that's all the weirdness for this week.