How to make your own ghetto light-saber and other tales

More random thoughts I'd like to remember...

(1) When Judah got a "unearth" your own crystals set this Christmas it came with a little wooden mallet and safety glasses to make it seem really authentic. Judah hammered away at the little block of loose sand and found a few small gem stones and called it a day. Noah watched him intently and when Judah went upstairs to put his gem stones away, Noah, without saying a word to anyone, donned the safety glasses, and started hammering away at the leftover pile of rocky sand, hoping to unearth some overlooked stones.

I don't know why this image sticks in my mind and makes me chuckle with mirth and pity. Something about this little guy being furtive and secretive and also totally accepting of his older brother's sloppy seconds...always being second place and the receiver of used objects...it charms me.

Noah, patiently waiting in the wings for his elder brother's scraps.

(2) Judah is such a hoarder. He has an intensely acquisitive nature. He doesn't acquire things for their utility - he just enjoys the accumulation of it. Now that he can earn his own money, he has learned that it's more fun to watch his money pile grow than to actually spend it on toys. Every time we go to Target Judah will peruse the toy aisles and finger items of interest, put them in our shopping cart, only to take them out again when it's time to check out. He would rather have the money.

Four months ago, he claimed that he would spend $10 after he first earned $30. Then he said he wouldn't spend money until he had earned $50. With a big boost from Chinese New Year, Judah now has a whopping $70 in his possession. And he now claims he won't spend any of his money until he's amassed at least $100. Oh the making of a miser.

So strong is Judah's hoarding instinct, that when I gave the boys cheap electronic light saber toys yesterday (a green one for Noah, a blue one for Judah), Judah immediately put his away in his room. In its place he jerry-rigged his own light saber by taping a flashlight to a back-scratcher, with which he used to fight Noah.

Ree. Dik. You. LESSSSS.

(3) Judah, of his own accord, without anyone every making any suggestions to him in the least, has taken it upon himself to make "worksheets" for Noah. They are the stuff of regular kiddie activity books - tracing the dotted line to form alphabet letters, simple math problems, color by number pictures, connect-the-dot pictures.

Judah does this because he wants Noah to have something fun to do when Noah is bored. And he believes Noah wants to progress in math and reading - which is true. But I don't know how helpful it is for Noah to do Judah's worksheets since Judah inverts a lot of letters and numbers - he still writes almost 30% of his symbols backwards (which makes me wonder if he's dyslexic).

Nevertheless, this inclination toward instructing his younger brother and wanting to make Noah happy is unbelievably rewarding for a mother to observe. What more do I want from my kids than to have such an abundance of good will toward their siblings? And quite an abundance there is - Judah has made over 50 worksheets and keeps it all in a giant zip-lock bag.

But maybe there's so many because Judah just likes to hoard...

The Art of the Deal: Kindergartener Edition

Yesterday we were at the discount bookstore and I had just checked out and put my wallet away when Judah spotted something he desperately wanted - a set of 4 button pins with Justice League symbols on them.

I gave him "the look" that I hoped would shut him down immediately, but he would not be dissuaded. And to be fair, he did have $2 of his own that he was free to spend on whatever he wanted. So he begged me - please Mommy, can you just tell me how much this is?

I asked the lady at the checkout counter to scan it and she told us it was $5. Sorry Judah, Way over your budget. Denied.

But he would not be dissuaded.

The guy actually asked if he could borrow money from me, like I'm some kind of revolving line of credit. Uh, no. Not until you have some kind of employment history, buster.

And then he got really creative.

How about I just give you $2 for two of them and you keep the other two?
Uh, no.
How about I give you $2 for two of them and Noah gets the other two?
Uh, no.
Wait, Noah, Noah, don't you want to buy these buttons with me?

Noah took one look at the buttons and immediately lusted after them. He loves all things Superman so he was in. He also had $2 to spend so between the two of them, they had almost enough to buy the buttons. I felt generous so I told them I would chip in the extra $1 if they pooled their money together.

Judah felt elated, except for one small problem.

They could not decide who would get which buttons.

They BOTH wanted the Batman/Superman hybrid button. And understandably, no one wanted the Wonder Woman symbol.

I was adamant, I was not going to buy the buttons if it was going to cause them to argue indefinitely.

Judah whispered and cajoled Noah until they both agreed - no more fighting over the button.

So who's going to get the Batman/Superman button? I asked.

No one, said Judah, we'll figure it out later.

Yeah, said Noah, we'll share it!

I knew that's just a recipe for a future headache, but they seemed so proud of figuring out a temporary working solution, I just didn't have the heart to press the matter.

I bought the buttons and for the rest of the day, the two brothers were happy as jaybirds.

Judah kept holding and swinging Noah's hand singing - We made a deal! We made a deal!

Images of my previous corporate law life flashed before me and I appreciated anew the art of the deal. If only every party felt the way Noah and Judah did after settling a tough agreement.

Of course, later in the day Noah became annoyed again that he wasn't getting the Batman/Superman button outright, but somehow Judah, with his snake oil salesman voodoo, whispered sweet nothings into Noah's ear and got him to agree to give up his coveted pin.

Noah settled for Superman and Wonder Woman.

And now I'm just a little bit afraid of Judah's powers over me and his brother.

The next day Judah told me he was in possession of all FOUR of the pins now. Apparently he had wheedled and dealed Noah into trading them all away...for much more inferior things.

That ol' son of a gun. I think I could actually learn a thing or two from him.

Riding in the Car with Kids

This weekend was wedding central at our house.

The spouse's sister (the kid's much beloved auntie) was getting married and the whole family pitched in. I said a toast, the spouse officiated and the kids played tweedledum, the ring bearer, and tweedledee, the flower boy, to perfection.

The venue was an hour drive away so there was a lot of car time this weekend people. A lot of car time. 2 round-trips - one for the rehearsal and one for the actual wedding. Phew.

I never know what to expect from the kids when they're in the car longer than 20 minutes, so it was...um...interesting.

Trial by Fire Commute #1

The first time we did the commute, the kids watched a "Franklin the Turtle" DVD the entire way down. Judah, a TV-lover extraordinaire thought he had died and went to heaven. Noah, halfway through, started whining and fussing and begging (way too loudly) to get out of the car.

Alas we are at the stage where Noah can actually unbuckle himself and open the car door. Let's just say I have never felt so thankful for automatic car-door locks!

Commute #2

On the second commute, going back home, Noah was a total crank-en-stein, probably because he just had a long day of rehearsals and no nap.

He spent the first 10 minutes of the trip whining loudly about not having any pennies (apparently Judah had found some at the venue) and Noah had some too, but, as with all little objects in Noah's possession, soon lost them all.

The spouse spent a good deal of time digging around the car for change to appease El Dictator, but it seemed no matter how many coins he threw at the kids, the noise decibel level did not go down.

Hmmmm...how can that be?

Because you can not negotiate with a terrorist people. They just crazy.

Just when I thought I was going to loose my mind from all the whining and crying, a miracle happened. Judah got in "appeasement" mode and decided he wanted to help his brother calm down.

I kid you not, when Judah puts on his "calm Noah down" hat, it's freaking magic. Judah IS the Noah Whisperer. Only he can reach across the divide and enter "crazy toddler" land, a place untouched by reason or logic, and tame that raging beast.

And that is just what he did for the rest of the 50 minute car trip.

God bless that boy.

He told Noah that his dull sad pennies were very special. They're Canadian pennies Noah! What? I didn't even know Judah knew there was a place called Canada. Amazing things they pick up in Kindergarten.

At one inspired point he told Noah to pretend to call his preschool friends on the phone and talk to them. And Judah, like some actor in an old-time variety show, deftly played the various roles of said friends - Lucas, Sophia, Jordan, etc.

In general, he continually flattered Noah and told him how cool he was and how great his stuff was. You know, what I imagine top North Korean officials do for the most part of their day for their Dear Leader.

I braced myself for when Judah would stop being so solicitous and Noah would resume his fussy whining, but it never happened. Judah tamed the beast the entire way and afterward said, Mommy, didn't I do a good job? But now I'm sooooo tired.

Yes my love, and now you know a little taste of EXACTLY how I've felt every minute of the day for, oh, just about the last 5+ years.

Commute #3

On our third commute down, I had no spouse to help me and no DVD players. Talk about living life on the edge!

The trip started out shakily, with Noah complaining (again, way too loudly) about something and me trying to distract them with a "game".

Let's play - What would you wish for if you had 3 wishes?

Judah: I want to go first!

Noah: No! Me! I go first!!!!

And since the scariest dude always gets his way, I let Noah go first.

Noah: I wish for...me and Judah (mumble mumble mumble, I didn't hear him but pretended I did so as not to upset El Dictator). And my second wish is (mumble mumble mumble). And my third wish is for a new Paw Patrol toy!

Judah: My turn! First, I wish that I would always love God and believe Him (man, he's such a good pastor's kid). And second that I would always love my family. And third (something I forgot, but equally morally lofty).

Me: Wow Judah! Those are great wishes!

Noah: No! No! No! My wishes are stupid! I want to go again!

Noah, at this point has realized that his wishes must've seemed to worldly in light of Judah's elevated desires and now begins the cycle of shame and rage that spells doom for all citizenry of dictators everywhere.

Just as I was racking my brain for a good way to avoid the tsunami of anger and tears that were about to rain down on us (should I suggest playing a different game? should I start throwing out pandering compliments to Noah? should I suggest that Judah throw out some pandering compliments to Noah? should I pass the kids some gummy bears? think woman! think!) suddenly the storm abated. The dark clouds of Noah's displeasure dissipated on their own.

Phew.

I can save the gummy bear bribes for later in our long day. WIN!

The rest of the trip passed in relative quiet as we drove along the quintessential landmark of Northern California landscapes - endless golden rolling hills, spotted with flecks of green treetops.

It stirred memories of my own childhood, staring out the car window for seemingly endless hours, marveling how the hills truly looked like gold shimmering in the bright sunlight.

So I shared the thoughts I had as a kid when I was in their exact place: Did you know a long time ago, explorers thought these hills were made out of actual gold? And they came from far away to get this gold only to discover that it was just dry grass after all! Can you imagine how disappointed they must have felt?

This, I knew, would unleash a bunch of questions from Judah and it was just the kind of information that tickled his noggin. I love this stage of his childhood.

And, as often is the case, he asks a darn good question that stumps me.

Judah: Mommy, why does the grass turn yellow when it dries up?

Me: You mean, as opposed to turning black? Or brown?

Judah: Yeah.

I told him I didn't know and thought I would try to help him think one step further.

Me: If we don't know the answer, how do you think we can find the answer?

Judah: (pause for thinking)...we can shrink down to miniature size and look at the grass?

Whelp, kid logic sure is a funny, fuzzy thing. I think he's referencing his favorite TV show at the moment, The Magic School Bus, in which all science questions inevitably lead to the shrinking of the school bus and students.

And because we are a spiritual family, I told Judah the thought that always comes to my mind when I look at dry grass - Judah, did you know the Bible says that we are like grass?

Here today and gone tomorrow. A mist. A vapor. A hundred-year-blink-of-an-eye.

Judah contemplated it receptively.

But El Dictator was displeased.

Shoot, I woke the dragon.

Noah: No! No! No! We are not grass Mommy!!!! Grass cannot talk! Grass cannot walk! Grass cannot eat!

Oh yeah, toddlers take everything literally. Ugh.

Thankfully, El Dictator was appeased by my vehemently agreeing with him - You're right Noah! We are not grass! That's so silly! Of course we're not grass! And gently distinguishing our meanings - I just mean we were a little tiny bit like grass. Just a little. But we are definitely not grass!

And soon, we arrived at our destination, not a minute too soon.

Commute #4

After the wedding, we packed into the car in happy moods. I knew El Dictator would be reasonably calm since he had a monster nap at the wedding, such is the exhaustion of walking down the aisle while sprinkling petals from a straw basket.

I finally gave them the reserve packs of gummy bears I had been saving for the entire day, hoping that would start us off on the right note. And things were fine for about the first 20 minutes.

Unfortunately the remainder of the trip was filled with this frantic chorus from both kids:

Mommy! I need to poo!
Mommy! Poo is coming out of my butt!
I'm trying to hold it in but it keeps coming out!
It's knocking on the door and I'm trying to lock the door but it's coming!
I'm putting 100 locks on the door!
Mommy, how long until we get home?!?! (uh, 40 minutes) No!!!! It has to be less than 10 minutes!
Mommy drive faster!!!!
Mommy, I farted. Fart is the start of pooping. (Noah's helpful observation).
Mommy, how much longer now?!?! (uh, 30 minutes) No!!!! That's too long!
(repeat ad nauseum)

I mentally prepared myself for poopy accidents all over the car and drove like a maniac. But the kids kept contracting their rectal sphincters like pros and I'm happy to report, it ended with a simultaneous pair of satisfying dumps at home in actual toilets.

Kids, never a dull car moment.

A Very Short Hike

Last weekend all the stars aligned (weather, work schedules, school schedules, social calendars) and we got to do something we haven't done in TWO years - take a hike in the redwoods.

Sounds simple but, y'all, lemme tell you - I WAS SO EXCITED!!!!

There is nothing. Nothing. NOTHING. I love more than hiking in the redwoods.

Before we had kids we literally did this every single weekend. It was the one time in my week I felt totally and utterly happy. Freaking kids.

Of course I prepared myself for the excursion by way wayyyy wayyyyyyyyy lowering my expectations. I knew what to expect. Whining. Fighting. Complaints of being tired. Thirsty. Hungry. Possibly inconvenient urges to poop or pee. And a very short hike.

All smiles but not for long!

It started off well enough, although there was an early chorus of "I'm bored. This is boring," from Judah. But as we got into it even Judah was bewitched by the quiet majesty of the kings of the forest. We had a great time...for about a whole 20 minutes or so.

Judah pretends to be his favorite animal of the moment - a jaguar!

From that point on, Judah's energy started to flag and he opted to sit in the stroller the rest of the way. And at the 35 minute mark Judah hit his all-time low - even sitting proved too much apparently. Judging from this pic, you'd think he was on the March of Bataan.

Who knew sitting in a stroller was SOOOOOOO HARRRRRRRRRRD?

But it's nothing a little milkshake couldn't fix. We stopped by this awesome little burger joint before heading home and the kids kept exclaiming - What's a milkshake? We've never had a milkshake before! What is it?!?!

This is what drinking happiness looks like.

Way to make us look like weirdos to all the other patrons. Thanks kids!

How Judah's Best Day Turned Into His Worst

Today I took Judah to Safeway and, as always, he found a balloon he wanted to hold. Ever since infancy he has loved holding balloons for the duration of our trip and is perfectly happy to hand it back to the cashier at the end.

But today, since Judah chose a really sad looking, half-deflated plain red mylar balloon, the cashier told us it was free and Judah could take it home! Judah was ecstatic, of course.

But then, just when he though life couldn't get any better, I told him we would stop by the local frozen yogurt store for a treat before heading home. At the fro-yo shop Judah happily slurped his plain tart yogurt as the song Best Day of My Life (by American Authors) comes on the speakers.

And right in the middle of the chorus Judah announces, Mommy, this is the best day of my life!

Wow. It's amazing how little perspective preschoolers have. Really? THIS is the best day of your life? You got a deflated balloon and tart yogurt.

Thirty minutes later Judah was whining and begging to watch a video, and when I denied him with finality he bemoaned, Mommy, this is the worst day of my life!

Okay hormonal teenager, get a grip. Seriously.

The suburbs aren't all that safe...

If you were to drive by my house last week on a random Thursday at precisely 7:26 pm, you would have seen my naked preschooler urinating on my driveway.

We had just gotten back from a walk in the neighborhood and Judah announced I HAVE TO PEE! Before I knew what was happening he had already taken off his pants and undies and just, well, peed. I have no idea why his t-shirt was off though. Hmmmmm.

I have no deep or witty insights into this episode. But it definitely made my day. Or rather it definitely made my day...more interesting. Life with a 3 year old--a gift that never stops giving.

It's Just the Wind

I don't have a lot of time to write, but I have to record this for posterity.

Judah is now literally afraid of the wind.  Yes, the wind.

I mean, seriously?!  Can phobias get more ridiculous than this?!

Admittedly a couple weeks ago it was pretty gusty, but it's not like any tree branches fell.  But ever since then, the slightest breeze stirring a leaf sends him panting in fear.  I'm trying to be patient but seriously, CAN YOU GET A GRIP AND JUST CHILL OUT?  It's a BREEZE for Pete's sake!

Cut Me Out. Now.

Ugh.  This is the second time this month I want someone to cut me out of my pants.

Even though I'm wearing maternity pants with an elastic waist, it's so freaking uncomfortable when I sit down!  Not so bad when I leave for work in the morning--vertical.  But after sitting a while at my desk I feel like I'm seeing spots due to my circulation being cut off around my waist.

I'm such a huge whale.

The last time this happened I literally took a pair of scissors and cut my pants waist-band.  Off.  All the way.

Worked great when I sat at my desk.  In my office. By  myself.

Not so great stepping out into the hallway.  Where people can see you.  And your weird cut-off pants.

I'm making a vow.

From this point on, I'm only wearing soft yoga pants or leggings.  I'm so over 'real' clothing.

Now, excuse me while I try to find a pair of scissors to cut me out.

When Toddlers Dress Themselves

I only have one problem with the outfit Judah picked for himself:

(And no, it's not because he looks like a total insane weirdo.)

It's that, as a product of TWO Cal grads, his outfit is offensively sympathetic to Stanford. Apparently he loves that stupid red hat (that his nanny bought him), even though a lovely friend recently got him an awesome Cal cap (thanks Priscilla!).

I mean, it's like another fresh wound coming on the heels of Cal losing the Big Game this weekend.  Betrayed by my own baby.  Ouch, Brutus, ouch.

Insult to Injury

Since I'm gearing up to go back to work next week, I got all my old clothes out of storage today.

Um, why did I bother?!

NOTHING FITS!

I had no idea how big my "twins" had gotten until I started trying on my loosest blouses only to find they looked obscenely tight, with the buttons straining and threatening to pop off at any moment.

And none of my bottoms fit either. Apparently I have quite a ways to go before I regain my former glory, such as it was.

So, in the interest of saving money, I dug out a pair of black maternity slacks that I loved wearing when I was preggo. They're super comfy and still fit post-partum. Don't judge--you know you'd do it too! Right? I can't be the only one...?

I know, I know. I'm sliding down a slippery slope that can only end in scrunchies and mom jeans.

Newborn Mom Brain

Just wanted to say that a few weeks ago, I ate sour milk.

I poured myself a bowl of cereal and milk and took a bite. It was really sour. I thought it was because the cereal had "blueberry" flavor in it--it was the spouse's cereal and not my usual stuff.

I drank the entire bowl of milk. The spouse later said he threw out the milk because it went bad.

I waited all day to throw up and feel queasy. I never did. I have a stomach of steel!

Toddy, your wife is so fancy

This episode of Giada at Home had me laughing harder than any SNL show I've ever seen. Giada decided to make some of her husband Todd's favorite midwestern dishes from his childhood and in the process, made her in-laws look like boorish unsophisticates.


How? Before making each dish, Giada had Todd's mom explain how she made the dish for Todd as a kid. Never did such well-intentioned plans go so wrong. To wit:

Spanish Rice
Todd's Mom: Todd just loved when I made a box of rice and dumped in ketchup and hamburger meat. We called it Spanish rice.

And then, without meaning to, Giada shows what uncultured hicks they were by make HER version of "Spanish Rice" with pancetta and saffron rice (with no boxes or ketchup of course).

Orange Cake
Todd's Mom: Todd's favorite dessert growing up was orange cake. I just used a Duncan Heinz box cake mix. He loved it.

Giada continues her damning with faint commentary by baking a cake from scratch with lots of fresh orange zest.

I wonder if there's any tension in the kitchen at family get togethers? Does Giada have to keep her face from blanching when Todd's mom asks her to please pass the aerosal cheese whip? Ha ha ha ha.

No, but really, I do like Giada's cooking show and I think she's adorable. Although she looks really wierd when she flashes her toothy grin (not unlike a hot Italian Cheshire cat), it's hard not to like someone who is so obviously genuinely excited and delighted by food. I LOVE food (not love, but LOVE), so anyone who LOVES food is automatically accepted in my book.


And her baby Jade is always on the show and she's tooooooo cute!

Predator Island

Oprah recently re-aired a story about a special confinement center informally dubbed Predator Island, in the beautiful Puget Sound.

It’s a facility that houses sexual predators, 60% of which are child molesters. This is not a prison, however. The unique twist is that all these predators have already served their sentences, but a judge has assigned them to be civilly committed because they are too likely to re-offend. If these predators elect to go through treatment, and are declared “cured,” they can get off the island.

But why would they want to?


Oprah’s cameras panned around the facility and it seriously looks like a state-of-the-art dormitory. There are recreational rooms with brand new basketball courts, flat-screen tv’s, computers, libraries, comfortable beds, etc. This facility is not like a run-down nasty inner-city public school. It is pretty darn posh. Oh yeah, and free health-care!

If I ever find myself down-and-out and about to be homeless, I'm going to pretend to molest someone, plead guilty, and spend the rest of my life in ease and comfort, courtesy of Uncle Sam. Inmates can knit, sew, do woodworking, all kinds of hobbies. Sign me up!

It is reported that federal tax payers spend $165,000 per offender each year to put them up in these nice digs!

That just seems wrong to me. Why can’t we just chemically castrate them and then release them back into society? It would be so much cheaper and, *bonus* they would never offend again. Problem solved.

Just another case of our tax dollars “hard at work” subsidizing the Washington State economy. FAIL.

You can read more about this depressing topic here.

Spoil Sport

The Conversation in the Car While Spouse Drove Me to the Subway Station this Morning:

Spouse: How are you going to avoid finding out who won the women's figure skating competition today?

Me: I'm not going to check any news sites today. Or even go on FB. It's a total shutdown of information until I watch the Tivo tonight.

Spouse: Why didn't you just watch it this morning?

Me: I thought you'd want to watch it with me.

Spouse: Nah, boring. I don't care.

Me: That's cuz you accidentally already found out who won.

Spouse: No, I really don't care. I only want to watch short-track.

Me: Short-track is crazy cuz the Koreans are on fire. But too bad the women's relay team got robbed of that gold medal!

Spouse: Well, Koreans don't feel too bad now because...

Me: Because...

Spouse: *Silence*

Me: BECAUSE KIM YU-NA WON GOLD?!?!?! Thanks a lot spoiler!

Homer Simpson's Gustatory Dream Come True

My sweet (puns happen) co-worker brought me a freshly made donut yesterday. Bless her heart. You may not be able to tell from the picture, but it's a BACON, maple syrup, and apple flavored donut.


Yeah, that was the face I made.

Until I tried it.

It tasted like...breakfast. The whole thing, all rolled into one bite.

Apparently, bacon is the hot new flavor these days. The same friend offered to bring me some bacon-chocolate to try.

And I was like, Hold it right there! That sounds disgusting! I have to draw the line there. You can't pervert nature's most perfect food (chocolate) like that.

But then again, I was wrong about bacon-flavored donut...

My Uncontroversial Life

I'm starting to realize the beauty of an anonymous blog. I wish I had one. This is a thinly veiled blog, but I think everyone who reads it knows who I am in real life.

But if I had a truly anon blog, I could write about how [____________] is totally blowing up right now and how I feel like [________] almost every day.

And I would also mention that my [__] is totally depressed and thinking about [________] my [___] after [_] [____] of [_______].

And mostly how I have a total [_______] on some [____] which is really messed up.

Oh, and how I really feel about all the recent pregnancies of my friends. Last year I knew 0 pregnant people. Now there's like 10, I kid you not! (puns happen)

It's a wierd time.

But because I am who I am and you know who I am, I'm relegated to posting about noncontroversial things like this...


If veggies could talk, this one would say, "What am I? An eggplant or a bell pepper? I'm so confused!"

How does it taste? I wish I knew. It rotted before I had a chance to eat it, like most veggies in my fridge. I'm full of good intentions, but lack follow through.

Story of my life.

Best Names Ever

To add on to yesterday's list:

1. Bernie Madoff (with your money)
2. Alexander Youshock
3. Usain Bolt (of lightening!)

Best Names of 2009

(1) Bernie Madoff (with your money).
(2) Alexander Youshock.

It was fated!

All Look Same

Some cheeky new paralegal stopped me in the hallway today and said, "Bonnie, I can't find the binders."

I was like, "Bonnie who?"

I've never met new girl so I thought I would introduce myself, "Hi, I'm Alice. We haven't met. And you are?"

I think she said Daisy and proceeded to say, something to the effect of, yeah, I know you. I handed you a binder on this litigation case yesterday.

And I was like, no you didn't cuz I'm not even in litigation and I definitely didn't get no binder from you.

And we just stared at each other for a second.

And I started to feel really annoyed that this person was telling me she gave me binders and NOT backing down on her story when I think I would know better than anyone in the world that she did NOT give me binders.

Whatever. All asian females of a certain age must look the same to her. And that's not racist cuz she's asian too. A dumb, blind asian. Ok, that's mean--maybe she's truly handicapped in the visual department.

But she never backed down and said, "Oh, I guess it wasn't you," or anything to that effect. She just kept staring at me like suddenly I would remember that I WAS a litigator and that she DID give me some random binder on a case I've never heard of.

I just walked away after our staring contest. And had to vent about it.

Their Idea of Fun

Ever wonder what guys find entertaining?

We recently went on a beach trip with our church, CCCAC (where hubby is the English pastor!), and found out. Apparently they don't need a lot of fancy toys--just some dirt, rope and elbow grease provided hours of fun and chuckles.

Physical feats were flaunted: the human pyramid.


The man-pile.


The aimless shoulder-lifting. This went nowhere fast.


Also the guys dug a deep pit, about 6ft. deep!


Some liked jumping over the pit (and others, ahem Michael, enjoyed pegging the jumpers with a volleyball).


But the favorite activity of all was repelling off the pit wall (have to see it in motion for the full effect):



And of course, some thought it would be fun to be buried alive. Some may be permanently scarred from this experience.