A Lesson to All

Here is my child. Ain't he cute?

I know. I know. I should be protecting him from the likes of the many distrubed strangers that may stumble across this blog who would want to risk their lives to take on the challenge of abducting and raising this gnarley thing as their own. But, I'd rather share him with you. All five of you who read this thing and the ocassional stranger who wanders across this site. I'm sharing him with you because I promise he will light up your life almost as much as he does mine. And, if you (yes, I'm talking directly to you, crazed internet stranger) get any ideas that you might want to try something funny with this guy, let this post be fair warning that there will be consequences. Consequences that you will not want to face. I promise.

On with the story.



Griffin attended the girls volleyball game last night at school. This is becoming a new routine for him and I am beginning to wonder about his newfound interest in volleyball. Or do you think it could be the girls? Hmmm...I'm sticking with the volleyball because that is more comforting to me. Anyway, who wouldn't be interested in such a great, competitive and exciting sport?! I mean really.

I arrived just a little after 7:30pm to pick him up and to my surprise I found him wandering the school grounds with a friend. It's dark outside y'all. Dark with danger lurking around every corner. Besides what happeneded to sitting on the bleachers in the gym showing your school pride and cheering on your schools team to an exciting vitory?

Needless to say, my parental concerns kicked into high gear. So, things went like this. He got in the car and the ramblings began. To save some time and spare some of the meaningless detail my arguments in list form sounded something like this:

1. Something bad could happen to you out there alone.
2. You weren't where you told me you would be.
3. Do you know that something bad could happen to you out there?
4. The girls on that volleyball team needed your support.
5. Do you know that some football players were threatened with pellet guns by a bunch of vagrant kids after school the other day and something bad could happen to you out there alone in the dark?
6. How do you even know how the volleyball team played?
7. What happens if a group of 15, crazed, gang members come and jump you out there in the dark? Something really bad could happen to you.
8. The cheerleaders just can't keep up the entire school spirit on their own. They need audience partipation. That means they need an audience.
9. How do you plan to protect yourself, young man if someone approached you out there in the dark?
10. Your friends on the volleyball team were counting on you being there.

Get the idea?

We return home and I promptly ordered a pizza for dinner because of course, I was famished from all of the worrying and ranting and Griffin was really, ready for me to shove something in my mouth so I would just shut up already. As Griffin was on his way out of the door to walk into the dark night across the street to pick up the pizza he turns and says...

"oh and mom, don't worry about me getting jumped by a group of 15 boys while I am gone. I have my pocket knife with me for protection."

Don't say you haven't been warned, internet stalker.

Sailing the Ocean Blue in 1492

Oh, Chris. My dear, Italian born friend. Thank you for setting out on that crazed expedition so many years ago, only to stumble across this undiscovered land which I now call home.

I truly want to thank you for this extra long weekend, as well. In fact, in your honor I am thinking that an Italian treat may be necessary to pay proper respect to your Italian heritage.  Tiramisu anyone?

I'mm Baacckk!

I'm back. You knew I wouldn't stay away forever did you. Did you?

Maybe you did. But, oh well.

I guess I should start with sincere apologies for dropping off the face of the earth like that. Forgive me? Good. Glad we got that squared away.

Now, on to the fun stuff...

Click here (I really hate it when that embed feature is disabled. Sorry for the diversion from this page, but please don't forget to come back after you have laughed at yourself a little. Yes, you will laugh at yourself. I promise.) and watch this. Please, please, please watch this. And laugh, friends. Because it is downright funny.

Now that your done with that bit of humor, you have to laugh a little more at this one.




Seriously, I know you have better things to do with your time than watch these silly videos. But, I also know that Bacon is good for this kid. Bacon is also good for me. Believe it or not, bacon is good for you too.

Just needed to get that off my chest.

Now, for the real fun.

Tonight is date night with the boy. Every other Friday night, also known as PaaaAAYYyy- DaaayyYY (imagine a little Jame Brown edge on those words there and also note that this refers to his $12.00 bi-weekly allowance), we hit the town in search of an adventure. We have vowed to not go to the same place twice and to always find a place we haven't been before. Good thing we live in a place the size of a small universe with an outstanding number of places to eat! Only, that's the bad thing too. It makes it so hard to decide which one to try next. So, I need your advice. Any fun places in H-town you like to eat? Something culinarily delicious, preferrably.

Conversations with "G"

I should rename this blog to Conversations With "G." They are the highlight of my days. I'm sure they would be the highlight of yours too. In fact, let's try it out today and see how it works.

Scene: Driving in the car at 9pm at night to CVS to purchase throat lozenges for the sore throat he has had all day and not informed me about until now.

Mom: (after taking in a whiff of one very rank odor) "G," did you fart?

G: Yes.

Mom: Thank you.

G: It was my pleasure.

When Life Gives You Lemons Make Lemonade

So, my son's chief complaint these days revolves around his height. Or lack of it. Unfortunately, the kids gene pool isn't working for him in this area, but ain't no thing. He's working it out. Making lemonade out of lemons just like mama said.

Today he told me the best thing about his height are the "hugging benefits."

"Huh? What's that?" says the oh so naive mom.

Well, G's much taller friend from the back agreed that when it comes to girls, G has all the advantage because he is the perfect height when it comes to hugging girls.

Oh. Oh my. Oh my aching ears.

I'm just not sure how much more of this I can take.

And we haven't even made it to 13 yet.

YIKES!

Let Us Never Forget

Today, we celebrate life and those who serve our country. We mourn the lost and remember the families that carry on without their loved ones.

It is so easy for the events of that day to become a fading memory. Something surreal and movie like. Beyond the grasps of comprehension.

This video is difficult to watch. Emotions that I can not describe well up inside of me. Yet, even though I sit here with a lump in my throat and my fists balled tightly watching this nightmare unfold again I am reminded of the reality of those events on September 11, 2001. A fresh perspective renews my appreciation for the liberties that we have in this great country and those who have served and fought for our freedoms.

A Story in the Funny Category

I have this story from an event that happened last week. I've shared it with a few friends. They are still laughing. So am I. So I thought I would spread some laughter and share the story with you too. Because laughter is just good for the soul.

As you may or may not know, I have been struggling for over a year now with a hip injury that just won't seem to leave me alone. I began a running program almost 2 years ago and six months into it, my lame hip appeared. Well, I have attempted to resume a normal running program over and over and over again since that time. Unfortunately, I have been unsuccessful in my attempts to get back to a normal, pain free running routine. Which leads me to the funny story.

I decided it was time for another opinion with a different doctor. After reviewing my films from the MRI a year before, he informed me that I had a labral tear and wanted a repeat MRI of the entire pelvic region to rule out any other issues that might be contributing to the pain.

Off I go to the imaging center where I meet this weaselly looking little fellow that was sporting a shady looking mustache and smelled of a stale cigarette. He was just that kind of person that invaded your personal space and creeped you just a little more than a horror film.

As I lie in the ceramic tube listening to what sounds like clambering hammers with birds chirping in the background, I began to recount the previous conversation with said weaselly man. I'll just have you know in advance, that it caused me to laugh uncontrollably right in the middle of the second set of images. Guess what happened next? Repeat that set of images. Fifteen more minutes stuck in the tube. But, oh the laugh was so worth the extra time.

Your dying to know now aren't you?

Ok, ok. Here you go.

Weaselly man: (in my personal space. big time) Here is the dressing room. Just get down to your panties and slip that gown on. When you come out, lock the door behind you. By the way, how did you tear your labia?

Me: (annoyed and preoccupied with this guys invasion of my personal space and the fact that he just used the word panties. i've never had a problem with the word 'panties' until just in that moment. it just seemed a little creepy then) Jogging.

Weaselly man: Really?!!? How long have you had a torn labia?

Me: (still annoyed with this guy and concerned about his awful body odor of stale cigarettes and how long I would have to endure that in this confined room) over a year now.

So, are you laughing yet? I still can't believe it did not dawn on me until half way through the MRI what he said. Does this guy know what he said? Does he really think I tore my labia? Was this some kind of Freudian slip? (Is that what you call it?)
Regardless, it's funny. Darn funny.Besides that, is it even possible to have that type of injury? Ouch. Again, I say OUCH!