Things I Learned On Vacation

1. Rock-Paper-Scissors will settle any and every debate.

Who has better looking children?  Rock, Paper, Scissors!

Who is smarter?  Rock, Paper, Scissors!

Who is loved more by mom?  Rock, Paper, Scissors!

By dad?  Rock, Paper, Scissors!

Who will win the first Nobel Peace Prize?  Rock, Paper, Scissors, Lizard, Spock!  (We watch a lot of Big Bang Theory.)

The list goes on and on.

2.  When you see a man with a scar from the corner of his mouth all the way up to his forehead, a knife in one hand, and a chain mail glove, say hi.  Chances are he’ll be very nice.

3. Apparently, the appropriate thing to say after one farts is, “You’re welcome, Mommy!”

Also, my boys are evil demons!

4.  Time still passes when you’re on vacation.  Some times, it passes faster than you expect. We got back home in time to see the annual killing of the corn crop.  Every stalk of corn that was green when we left was dry, withered, and brown.  I understand that insurance will pay a certain amount for crops that don’t produce, but you’d think after watching corn die year after year, they would look for something that actually grows in the area.  Can dead corn actually be used for anything?

5.  When little boys spend almost two weeks in the back of an SUV, it’ll smell like a dorm room. 

Does it matter that my boys are still in single digits?  No.  It smelled like dirty feet.

It took two weeks for that smell to dissipate.


Also, we had a great time!!

One of the state lotteries was up pretty high last week, so I wasted a few bucks on it.  Ed asked me to in front of the munchkins.  (They’re rapidly growing to tall to be called munchkins.  Dammit.)  The munchkins demanded information about what a lottery was and how much we would win and what we could do with said winnings.  Apparently, with a few million bucks, we could buy a country (I’m not sure which one, but apparently, they’re not too expensive), or we could found a new university (buildings are cheap too), or just one really large house (Logan has wanted a manor house since we started watching Downton Abbey, which is well worth a watch).

We didn’t win.

Are you surprised?

I’m not.  The boys were.  They accused me of losing on purpose, making puppies cry, dashing their aspirations of greatness, killing all of the rainbows in the world, and keeping them from owning their own Nerf field.  There were histrionics.  There were fake tears.

I have no idea where they get it.

Attempts at Playing Hooky

Logan was the first to try it this morning.

“Daddy,” he whined in his most pathetic voice.  “I don’t feel good.  My throat hurts.”

“Aww,” sympathized Ed.  “I bet you think you need to stay home from school too, don’t you?”

“Yes,” he said in that soft, raspy voice.  He clutched his neck for effect.

“Tough.  You’re going to school,” said his Daddy with an evil grin.

“I guess you just don’t care about your kids then, huh?” demanded Logan.  If he wasn’t going to get his way, he might as well throw a barb or two.

“Nope,” laughed Ed.  “I sure don’t.”

He walked out in a huff after his Daddy clearly bested him.

Ed continued getting ready for work and just a few minutes later, Trip walked in.  Trip took at moment to prepare his argument and make sure the proper, pathetic expression was on his face.

“Daddy,” he whined piteously.   “My stomach hurts.”

Clearly, he had not spoken with his brother about their morning tactics.  I should suggest a strategy meeting in the mornings before they try to pull the wool over their Daddy’s eyes.

“What’s the matter with it?”

“I don’t know.  It just hurts really bad.”

“That’s rough, boy.  I bet you need to stay home from school, don’t you?”

Trip’s eyes lit up, but he was able to catch himself before saying anything, weary of the trap his Daddy might be laying.  “Yes, I need to stay home from school.”

“Well, you know that means you’ll have to come up to the office with me and you’ll have to sleep on the couch all day, right?”


“Yeah, if you’re too sick for school, then you’re too sick to watch television or play on your ipad or anything else.  You’ll have to lay on the couch and sleep.  If you can’t sleep, you’ll have to lay there and just stare at the ceiling.”

Trip started backing away slowly.  “I think I feel okay now.  I’m okay to go to school.”

“Are you sure, boy?  I wouldn’t want you to go to school sick.”

“No, I feel okay.  I’m going to school today.”

“Okay, well, go put on your shoes.”

“Okay, Daddy!”

That man I married is smart!

The boys regularly come up with some pretty wild stories.  This one concerns their origin.

“I know I had an identical twin, Mom,” starts one twin.  The twin who starts this diatribe varies.

“Yeah,” starts the other.  “Mom didn’t want identical twins.”

Um, I don’t recall voicing a preference at any time about the flavor of my munchkins.

“Yeah, Mom.  Where’s Edward?”

They’ve named their other twin.

“Mom traded Edward with another family who had twins for their twin.  I can’t believe you did that, Mom!  We want Edward back!”

“Yeah, Mom!  We want Edward back!”

Ed normally joins in.  “I can’t believe you did that!”

Never mind that one of them would have to go back.  Never mind that they look like each of their parents.  They want their other twin back.

Way back when the boys were tiny, I was of the opinion that they should use the anatomically correct terms for their body parts.  By the time they were 18 months old, they knew they had a penis.  I thought they were so cute!  I did not anticipate them a couple of years later asking about my penis.

“I don’t have a penis,” I told them.

“What do you have?” they asked.

“Not a penis,” I told them.

This parenting thing is hard.

Then they asked me where they had come from.  It’s a question all kids inevitably ask.

“You grew in my belly.”

“How did we get out?

“The doctor cut you out.”

This parenting thing is easy!  I’m so glad I had a C-section!

But what happens when you tell your cherubs that the doctor cut them out of your belly?  Their next logical question is “What did you feed us when we were in your belly?”

When you answer with something about blood and nutrient transfer, their eyes glaze over.  They come up with their own answer.

“You fed us your poop!”

“Um, no.  There was a nutrient transfer between my blood system and yours.”

“You’re making that up, Mom.  You fed us poop.  I’m smarter than my brother though, so I stopped eating the poop and that’s why my brother was bigger.”

“Why did you feed us poop, Mom!?!?!”

I was speechless.

Whenever they want to point out my parenting cruelty now, they start with, “You fed us poop in your belly!”

This parenting thing is hard!

He Tolerates the Camera

This boy.  He lets me take his picture.  Sometimes, he even looks at the camera.  The other boy tells me not to take his picture.  That other boy will regret not having any pictures from his childhood one day.













And I love the snaggle tooth pictures!

On the second official day of our vacation, we ate at an oyster bar called Wintzell’s in Mobile, Alabama.  The main reason we ate there was because Ed wanted gumbo.  As if we needed any other reason!  I like making that man of mine happy!  (Did you just feel the eyes in his head roll backwards?  I think they’re going to be stuck that way!)

Anyway, we found the restaurant loud and fun and perfect for our foursome!  Shortly after we sat down, Trip asked what an oyster was.  I tried for several minutes to explain what an oyster was, but my explanations just weren’t cutting it.  I noticed a man behind the bar shucking oysters.  I told Trip to get up, we went over to the bar, and I asked if my baby could see one of the oysters he was shucking.

The man was beyond nice.  He told Trip everything he could about oysters in about five minutes and then asked if Trip would like to try one.  Trip absorbed everything gratefully.  Then, the nice man asked Trip if he wanted to try one.  Trip thought about it for a minute and didn’t say anything.  The man then suggested that Trip try one on a cracker and my little boy was down to try an oyster.

I put about seven and a half drops of Tobasco on the oyster before he was ready to try the oyster and had a folded paper towel in case the oyster came rapidly back out with instructions on what to do if said oyster did not agree with him because I have some major texture issues and am extremely conscientious to the texture issues in others, but little dude chewed it up and swallowed all of it and claimed to like the raw oyster.

I was proud.  There is absolutely no chance I would have tried anything like that when I was his age.  Dude was brave!

We went back to our table and bragged to Ed about what he had done.  Ed was dutifully impressed.  We all looked over our menus and Trip insisted on ordering the oyster sampler.  They oyster sampler consisted of sixteen oysters prepared in several different ways.    The dish was expensive so I offered to share the dish with Trip since I only wanted a bowl of gumbo anyway.

Can you guess what happened when the food came out?

It won’t be hard.  I promise.

Trip took one look at the huge plate of oysters, then looked at me and my gumbo, and said he couldn’t eat any of the oysters.

I wasn’t entirely surprised, but REALLY, DUDE?

I didn’t want a huge plate of oysters.  I had only planned on stealing his oysters Rockefeller.

Trip and I traded seats and I ate the oysters and Trip ate my gumbo.  I did have a bite of the gumbo and it was AMAZING!  photo[1]

What are you going to do?  There’s no wasting good oysters!


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