ROASTED WEENIES AND OTHER FIVE YEAR-OLD PHRASES

Well, what do you expect when you ask a five year-old to plan dinner?

Although, I would have expected him to call them hot dogs, since that's generally how we refer to them around here.

But when I reminded C early in the week that it was his turn to plan dinner, and asked him what he wanted, his response was roasted weenies!

He must have heard it on t.v.  Probably that Spongebob Squarepants again.  Because no one around here has ever used the term roasted weenies.  In fact, I don't even think C knew what roasted weenies were until we got ready to make dinner and I broke out the hot dogs.

But that didn't stop him from talking about roasted weenies all week long. 

The kid is full of one-liners and other sayings that are probably not age appropriate for a five year-old.  But that's what happens when you're the littlest brother.  Your parents let Spongebob and Mario look after you because they're too tired to do it themselves.

Right now, C is upstairs by himself playing the Wii.   He's adapted well to the lonely life of the youngest child.  He just talks to the television.

"It is ON like Donkey Kong . . . because that's who I am, Luigi!"

I should probably get off the computer and go read him a book or something.

FRUIT OF THE MONTH FUN

I'm not exactly sure what my husband does for a living.  It has something to do with computers and marketing.  And giving lots of stuff away to people so they'll like Hewlett Packard more than Dell. 

Occasionally, we are the beneficiaries of this generosity.  For example, if G helps plan an event where the big giveaway is a subcription to The Fruit-of-the-Month Club, we get signed up too!

It seemed we weren't really Fruit-of-the-Month Club people when we received pears with instructions on how to eat them fancy-style, with a spoon. We learned everything we know about being fancy from Spongebob, namely, hold your pinky out while drinking.  Never once did Spongebob mention eating fresh fruit with a spoon. 

Apparently, every shipment of fruit is going to arrive with instructions on how to eat it.  Just in case it ends up in the hands of uncultured fruit-eaters like us.  But I felt much better this month when our shipment of oranges included bibs. That's more our style of eating, I thought.  Perhaps we're Fruit-of-the-Month people after all.

According to the How to Eat a Honeybell insert, "the bib is not just a cute idea . . . when juice is running down your chin and off your elbows, and you're grinning from ear to ear, you'll be so glad you've got your bib and happy too that life could be this good."  Apparently, these particular oranges are only available once a year, in January.  It has something to do with the birds and the bees--literally.

So, with great antipation, C and G donned their bibs and dug in!  You can't tell from the photos, but C really does have juice running down his chin.  And he does look pretty happy, just as the instructions stated he would.  It's like receiving a box of juicy happiness every month on your doorstep.

Which makes me wonder why Clark Griswald was so upset about being signed up for the Jelly-of-the-Month club.  Maybe his jellies didn't come with instructions . . . or bibs.

NAUTICAL NONSENSE

The Summer Fun Program has nearly come to an end, and thank goodness, because it was starting to get expensive. Especially when you visit places like the Denver Aquarium, which is a pretty nonsensical place for a display of aquatic life, if you want my opinion. I get Sea World being in San Diego, but the Denver Aquarium seems a bit out of place to me. It just goes to show you that if you team up with Spongebob, you can sell anything!

Besides the obvious question of why an aquarium in Denver, I came away from the experience with a few other lingering questions. Like why does a tiger live at the aquarium? And why is my husband picking Spongebob's nose and growing a goatee-like beard? Also, if Spongebob greets you outside the aquarium, why don't any of the displays inside incude a Krusty Krab? And finally, why is it so expensive?

My kids didn't seem to have any questions though (probably because they weren't paying) and thoroughly enjoyed themselves. Sharks and turtles were favorites, and also seemed popular with the 2 trillion other children at the aquarium on Friday. Of course, we had to RUN through the gift shop, strategically placed at the the exit (you couldn't go over it . . . you couldn't go around it . . . so you had to go through it) to avoid any further spending.

There might be one more trip to the pool in the works before the kids head back to school, at which point I will dance around the quiet, empty house and sing . . . "It's the most wonderful time of the year." Bet you thought that was a Christmas song, didn't you?

TAKE ME OUT TO THE BALLGAME

Take me out to the crowd . . . buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jack's . . . I don't care if it costs an arm and a leg.

Actually, we bought popcorn, Skittles and 2 sodas for $18.50! But that is not the point. The point is, we all had a great time at the ballpark Friday night.

It's all part of the Summer Fun Program, which is basically a plan for spending a lot of money to entertain the children during summer vacation. It was a beautiful evening though, perfect for sitting outside and enjoying a baseball game. Yes, our team lost, even though the boys put on their rally caps in the bottom of the 9th (well not E, because that is just WAY too embarassing for a pre-teenager).

The kids quoted lines from Spongebob all the way home. One of my favorites . . . "What doesn't kill you usually succeeds on the second attempt." But it got me got me thinking . . . if my kids can memorize every episode of Spongebob, why can't they include educational information in each episode? States and capitals, or U.S. Presidents or times tables or something else useful. My kids have learned who David Hasselhoff is, but that is hardly information that is going to help them out in life.

BEST DAY EVER!

C woke up the other day and asked dad to help him make a list--a list of things he needed to get done in order to have his Best Day Ever!

I confess, he got the idea from Spongebob. Why do I say that apologetically? I just don't understand why some people have a problem with Spongebob (please don't leave your comments telling me--I refuse to publish anti-Spongebob comments on my blog). Seriously, that little pants-wearing sponge has some great ideas for children. He even has a song about his best day ever. My favorite line . . . Every flower, every grain of sand, is reaching out to shake my hand. It's the best day ever! Isn't that what a great day feels like?

C's Best Day Ever list:

Play a game with dad

Play hide and seek with E

Draw pictures with dad

Play tag with mom

Read books with T

I wish my "to do" list looked like that!

OUTNUMBERED

I have a theory about parenting. Once you have three kids, you may as well have twenty—it would feel the same. This is just a theory, mind you, and not one I plan to test personally. It just seems to me that as a mother, once you’ve lost control, there’s nothing left to lose. But just in case I’m wrong, we’re going to stick with three.

The problem with having three children is that somebody is not being supervised. Our youngest, for example, just visited the dentist for his first time. He’s four and should have gone sooner, but nobody was really paying attention. He just happened to tag along because his brothers were going. Turns out he has six cavities! Left to fend for himself, he has survived on fruit snacks and candy. He’s practically been raised by Sponge Bob. And clearly, no one has brushed his teeth since birth!

Our oldest doesn’t have a single cavity. Middle child: three. Do you detect a pattern here? Based on cavity frequency alone, our parental performance has deteriorated by 50 percent with the birth of every child. We would have never let our oldest child out of the house looking anything but his best. Not so with our youngest. He’s been spotted in public wearing nothing but his underwear. His usual hairdo is a stylish combination of Bed Head and Rooster Tail. Have you ever seen a kid at the grocery store wearing a Halloween costume in February? (Side note: Favorite costumed child sighting? Bible Man sitting in the stands at a college football game). Chances are, those kids you see in public wearing nothing but a cape and their underwear are not the firstborn.

That’s what happens when you’re outnumbered. And I’m not just outnumbered as a parent, I’m outnumbered as a woman—four to one, if you count my husband. We’ve never even had a female pet. So yes, this blog will be about the funny, crazy and even disappointing things that happen around here, but it will also be about putting down the toilet seat, the pros and cons of using soap, and whether Pikachu or Charizard is better in a Pokemon battle.

I’m just going to write about our life. I’m not good at making stuff up. I like non-fiction. My favorite book is the biography of Harry S. Truman by David McCollough. Unfortunately, I don’t have time to write a 900 page book. I prefer to think of myself as the next Erma Bombeck, or perhaps the female Dave Barry. Sure, John Steinbeck can tell epic stories, rich with imagery and symbolism, but Dave Barry can make you laugh so hard you’ll pee your pants. That’s the kind of thing I aspire to. In a house full of boys, bathroom humor will get you a long way.

So stay tuned . . . you never know what’s going to happen next around here.