If you’re standing in the grocery store line and you see plastic Halloween pumpkins for 99 cents, you’ll probably decide to pick up a little treat for your Bean.
And since the grocery store line is moving slower than a slug, you’ll probably go ahead and give the pumpkin to your Bean so he can entertain himself for a little while.
When you get out to the parking lot and you begin to unload your groceries, your Bean will still have the pumpkin but will suddenly decide he is done playing with it for now and so he will chunk it out the open car window where the pumpkin will roll up under your car.
And since you are on a budget and don’t want to waste even 99 cents, it will seem like the right thing to do to crawl on all fours up under your car to try to find the stupid pumpkin.
Only, because you are three months pregnant and already look like you’ve swallowed a watermelon or two, you won’t quite fit up underneath your car. Which is okay because the gosh darn pumpkin has rolled into that exact location that makes it impossible to reach from any side of the car.
So, you’ll get back on your feet and continue unloading your groceries while lecturing your 16-month-old son on the value of a dollar and the importance in not senselessly throwing away valuables. Like plastic 99 cent pumpkins.
And you’ll also notice the impatient elderly woman in the Buick waiting with her blinker on for your parking space. Not the four empty parking spaces around you. She only wants YOUR parking space. And she is drumming her fingertips on her steering wheel, indicating her frustration at how long it is taking you to crawl around up under your car and load your groceries.
Also, at this point your son will notice his new toy is missing and will begin wailing, “P’kin! P’kin! P’kin!”
When your groceries are loaded and your Bean is securely in his seat, still wailing, you’ll back out of the parking spot halfway with the intent of exposing the plastic pumpkin so that you can jump out and save your 99 cents. Only, you’ll hear an unexpected crunch. And then you’ll stop the car. Which will cause the ornery, elderly woman to begin laying on her horn. This will lead to your son raising his voice so that his pleas can be heard above the noise, “P’KIN! P’KIN! P’KIN!”
So, you’ll put the car in park and jump out, ignoring the old bat who is now yelling at you through her open window, and you’ll pick up the plastic 99 cent pumpkin and you’ll yell out over the screaming old lady and your wailing son, “KEEP YOUR PANTIES ON, LADY! YOU’RE THE ONE WHO WANTED TO WAIT FOR THIS EXACT PARKING SPOT!”
Then you’ll get back in your car and at the sight of the smashed pumpkin, your son will begin weeping uncontrollably and the only thing you’ll be able to understand is the occasional mutter of, “P’kin…P’kin…” in his little cries.
So, your heart will melt and your ears will become deaf to the multiple horns honking at you now for blocking the entire aisle in the Walmart parking lot and you will start popping the dented, bent pumpkin back into place before handing him to your inconsolable son who, upon having his “p’kin” back, will stop crying and whose eyes will light up and whose huge smile will spread across his face.
And then you’ll put your car in drive and you’ll finally pull out of the parking lot. And your son will think you are a super hero.
The End.
08Jul
Today I woke up and it seemed like an important day for some reason, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it…
Were my taxes due? No….
Was it the first day of school? No….
Had I won the lottery? Definitely no…
Did we have company coming? No…
And then I rolled over in bed to face this guy, and I remembered.
Today is my honey bunny’s birthday!!!!
Happy birthday to the man who makes every day exciting.
Happy birthday to the man who reminds us to stop and relax every now and then.
Happy birthday to the man who fixes things when I break them.
Happy birthday to the man who pushes Bean WAY higher on the swings than I think is appropriate.
Happy birthday to the man who lets us hug and kiss and climb all over him.
Happy birthday to the man who makes me laugh till I snort.
Happy birthday to my partner in crime, my chef, my mechanic, my humorist, my confidant, my proofreader, my adviser, my counselor, my cuddler, my best friend, my hubby, my Pookey.
You make every day better than yesterday.
I love you.
We celebrated the Fourth of July at my parent’s house with my sister, Ginny, and her hubby, John Michael.
John Michael is close to seven feet tall, so I worried that when Bean got on his shoulders the air would be too thin up there for him to breathe. Glad to find I was wrong about that.
We had a tiresome day on the Fourth and so Beanie was headed to bed before the real fireworks started, but before we put him down for the night we had a mini-fireworks show just for him with sparklers.
Bean loved the sparklers. Loved ‘em. Loved ‘em so much, in fact, that I have now hidden anything flammable in our house just in case he gets any ideas. Although, with Bean’s gas situation, he is probably the most flammable thing we have…
And what’s the Fourth of July without me singeing my hair with a sparkler? It’s an annual event in my family.
But even that couldn’t damper Bean’s fun. He thought the Fourth of July was awesome. And I fear he will now take after his father and become one of those kids who likes to set G.I. Joe’s on fire just to see what happens.
He just has that little glint in his eye, don’t you think?
18Jun
Because you check on Michael every night before you go to bed, even if I was just in there.
Because you talk like Mickey Mouse.
Because you share your pretzels and cucumbers with Michael.
Because you go to church with us even though you’d rather sleep in.
Because you get Michael’s crib ready for bed every night.
Because you go straight to him when you get home from work.
Because you know where the tickle spots are. For both of us.
Because you watch Sid the Science Kid.
Because you walk around with Michael on your shoulders.
Because you’re teaching Michael what sound a dolphin makes, even though that’s such a strange thing to teach him.
Because you cook dinner for us every night.
Because you switched to whole milk.
Because you keep me from dressing Michael like a nerd.
Because you can sing the entire children’s CD in the car.
Because you show Michael every picture of family in our house every single day.
Because I can’t find a picture of you in the past year without Michael in it.
Because you tell everyone that you have the coolest kid ever.
Because you go to work every day so that you can provide for us.
Because you moved across the country for your family.
Because you miss Michael when he spends one night with my parents.
Because the first thing you took to your new office was a picture of your son.
Because you are so excited about building a tree house that you point them out to me in other people’s yards.
Because you don’t want to miss anything that happens in Michael’s life.
Because you call during the day just because you miss us.
Because you never get frustrated.
Because you don’t even know how good of a Dad you are.
Because you tell us how much you love us every day.
There are so many reasons that you are a good father, Chris. But I don’t have to list them here. You can look at Michael and at the person that he is becoming and you know what kind of dad he has. You make my life better and you make Michael’s life fuller. Thank you for taking care of us, making us laugh, and being there for us every day.
Happy Father’s Day, Daddy!
We love you,
Mom and Michael
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