What a Life!

Last night Ben was doing some imaginary cooking. Steve was watching the football game, and Ben would go over to the kitchen, “make” him something, then bring it back to Daddy, and Steve would pretend to eat it and say “yum, yum, yum,” without missing a single play.

Ben made him more food than a person could eat in an entire week. Pancakes. Pizza. Yogurt. All of Ben’s favorites.

Then Steve requested an apple turnover.

Ben went to the kitchen, messed around in his little space where he was cooking, and then came back to the living room.

“Here’s an apple turn-off, Daddy.”

We may have been watching the football game, but we weren’t concentrating so hard that we missed a good laugh.

What does an apple turn-off taste like, anyway?

You know it’s cold when you’re driving down the highway and you decide your windshield is a little dirty…so you squirt the cleaning fluid (yup, still works, not frozen)…and between when the wipers spread the water across the windshield and when they come back to wipe it off, it freezes to your windshield and you can’t see where you’re going…

[Ask me how I know]

Current weather report: 14 degrees with windchill of -2. Help!

Ben goes through these stages, as every child does, I guess. The latest thing he’s been doing and just won’t quit?

He walks around upstairs and says, “Bounce. Bounce. Bounce-bounce-bounce. Bounce. Bounce. Bounce.” Then he dramatically falls down and sprawls out on the floor. He gets up and does it over and over and over again.

It’s terribly annoying so I’ve asked him to go downstairs. “No,” he’ll tell me. “There’s carpet down there.” (We have wood floors upstairs.)

And for the life of me, I could not figure out what it was that he was doing. But he kept doing it. Bounce-bounce. Bounce. Bounce-bounce-bounce. Dramatically fall to the floor. Get up again and repeat. What????

Then it dawned on me. Think about it. What season is it? What is the main sport on tv right now?

Basketball, of course. And if you’re four years old and you haven’t figured out yet that the object of the game is to get the ball through the hoop…well, watch a couple minutes of basketball and you’ll know what I’m talking about.

The other night I paid close attention for about thirty seconds – out of three shots attempted, after two of them, the guys making the shot fell down even though nobody was anywhere near them. Seriously. They fall down because they’re hoping someone would be close enough to them that the referee would think that person interfered. Then the referee would call a foul, and they’d get their free shots.

Yeah. They fall down even when no one is near them. What has become of that game???

Leave it to a four-year-old to give you a fresh – literal – interpretation of something you’ve seen a thousand times. Oh my!

The apparent silence on my blog is not because I don’t have anything to say. No, it’s that I’ve been so busy getting things done that I formerly did not have the energy to do that I am overwhelmed with a backlog of things to write about (which makes it even harder to sit down and write).

Yes, a backlog.

For now, a picture will have to be worth a thousand words.

Do you see it?

Maybe this will help.

“It just works” would be the understatement of the century.

Gotta go – we’re getting 3 to 5 inches of snow tomorrow so I must set aside my beloved MacBook and run some errands. As much as it pains me. Snowflakes are coming down as we speak. Really. Gotta go.

Once a year, my dad has a birthday, which entitles him to a post on my blog just for him. As usual, it includes some fun pictures I found in the archives.

This series is of Dad and Ben after my dad bought Ben his radio last spring. It’s clear they are both enjoying it immensely.

Then this is Dad reading Ben a story that same afternoon. Such fun!

We are making a trip to Florida in February – part of my parents’ Christmas present from us – and my dad is so looking forward to it. I can hardly wait!

Happy Birthday, Dad!

I got this from the January 4 edition of Mikey’s Funnies, a list that I subscribe to where you get a clean joke in your inbox every morning. More details below…

===============================
From Funnies reader, Dan Bub:

Many of us have already celebrated Christmas. Our brothers and sisters, however, in the eastern churches – such as Greek and Russian Orthodox – will celebrate Christmas this Sunday, January 6th, on what is actually “the twelfth day of Christmas.” It occurs to me that there might be some advantages to the Orthodox celebration. And so, in a good-natured salute to the season, I give you the…

TOP TEN REASONS TO CELEBRATE CHRISTMAS ON JANUARY 6TH
By Dan Bub

10. Two more weeks to get your Christmas cards mailed.

9. The fruitcake from Great-Aunt Bertha has 12 more days to petrify.

8. Chances for a “White Christmas” are better in January.

7. You have room to pig out again a few days after all the other parties are over.

6. Airports are less-crowded.

5. You don’t have to start your New Year’s diet until after on January 6th.

4. You can go back to driving above the speed limit because the cops are back on regular schedules.

3. You can do all your shopping when everything is on sale.

2. All your annoying relatives who show up on December 25th won’t stay long when they find out there’s no dinner and no presents.

1. Beautiful Christmas trees are free. Take your pick, curbside, on the streets.

Copyright 2007 Dan Bub (fccpal@yahoo.com). Permission is granted to send this to others, with attribution, but not for commercial purposes.

today’sTHOT============================

All that glitters has a high refractive index.

=======================================

PASS IT ON!
Yeah, you can send this Funny to anybody you want. And, if you’re REAL nice, you’ll tell them where you got it! www.mikeysFunnies.com

===============================

http://www.mikeysFunnies.com

MIKEY’S FUNNIES is a clean humor email list, sent every weekday…brought to you by Mike Atkinson @ http://www.uneekNet.com … helping organizations succeed on the web

On a personal note, I’ll just say, highly recommended.