1. Henry is at that age where he says the cutest things, or maybe he says what everyone else around here is saying it just sounds cuter coming out of his five-year-old mouth. And as we all know there are limits to this phenomena because it can be very, very depressing to hear your five-year-old tell someone to step off.
This morning, Henry came out of our bedroom (that would be me and Paul’s bedroom, not me and Henry as Henry would sometimes like to think). Lately he’s been having some sinus issues and my husband is a huge (HUGE) fan of the apparatus called a Nosefrida. The official name is Nosefrida The Snotsucker Nasal Aspirator which tells you pretty much all you need to know. Paul remembers his relatives in Mexico having something similar when he would go for visits as a young boy and a few years ago he became committed to finding this instrument of torture for our own family.
Voila! The Nosefrida arrived on our doorstep a few days later.
Henry is terrified of Nosefrida and has been known to streak past us all at meteoric speeds at the mere mention of its name.
But for some reason this morning, Henry was just fine with Paul suggesting he get his sinuses vacuumed.
Just like that, he walked out of our room sounding remarkably un-clogged and quite pleased with himself.
“I did it,” he declared with glee, “I faced my fears!”
He also asked me the other night, when I mentioned that Daddy and I were having a little in-house date night, if that date might involve some hugging?
“That’s a possibility,” I admitted.
“Could be,” said I.
“But won’t that be a little awkward?”
Absolutely, I told him, taking the opportunity to drive home the point that only married grown-ups kiss because it’s just so disgusting.
2. The other night it was a glorious evening. The boys were coming and going from basketball practice and I was standing outside to direct traffic. My folks pulled in their driveway from being out and about and just celebrating the fact that my mom is back among the living and looking great.
So there we were, standing outside together as I kept an eye on Henry and Isabel who were riding bikes. The sun was setting, the sky was ablaze with orange and pink, there was a perfect breeze and…Isabel marched over to the bushes, pulled down her skivvies and declared she had to pee.
She proceeded to stand there peeing, in the exact fashion she had (I’m sad to report) most likely witnessed from certain resident family members, i.e. everyone around this joint but me. And God bless that girl she had the best of intentions, it’s just that she’s not equipped with the same components and all her efforts to tuck her bum and thrust her belly forward, well they results in absolutely none of the hoped-for trajectory. And just like that, our nice little evening of watching the sunset was over. It was time for baths and also for starting a new load of laundry.
3. This next one is for my friend Marie. We had been talking, at our small group gathering, about fasting. Paul said something about it not being as bad as he thought. To quote, “You think you’re going to die, but you’re not.”
Which of course it true. Marie really liked that. And I agree. But I just couldn’t put into words why I still struggled (I daresay suffered but I know that would be extreme?). What is it about fasting that makes it all seem so, so impossible?
And then the latest Sports Illustrated came in, and I was sitting there reading it and came across an ad that made me laugh until I cried because it so very clearly sums up how I feel about fasting:
I’m not me when I’m hungry!
That’s all. I’m not saying I won’t do it. Or that I can’t do it. But if you come home to discover that I’ve bought a seven-person hot tub and had it delivered to the basketball court, just know that when my blood sugar gets low, I’m not thinking straight.
4. One of my boys went squirrel hunting in the neighborhood the other day. We’re going to just yadda-yadda-yadda large portions of this story. It just, I dunno, makes my head hurt?
So fast forward past the part where the group of boys heads into the woods and quietly hunts squirrel and then shoots a squirrel and then kills a squirrel and then carries that dead mangy vermin back to my yard.
5. I just realized something. And this shows how crazy my life is. The squirrel in Quick Take Four is different from the squirrel in Quick Take Five. Awww lawdy.
So we close out QT4 with little fanfare and move on to this one.
A dead squirrel is in our backyard. It’s pretty gross. Just lying there freaking me out. I went to walk out the gate and there it was and lo if it did not seem to be about 45 feet wide. I freaked. I’m sad to report I have very little stomach for such things.
So a few hours later, when all the boys get home from practice, I make a grand announcement that someone needs to please take care of that thing. Just bury it in the ground thanks.
Full Disclosure: I had already called my daddy the minute I saw it and asked if he was home and could he move it please so I could start breathing natural-like again? Sadly, he was out having a life.
The boys return, I make the announcement, they start TCB (taking care of business). By which I mean: a group of boys takes the tail off and then removes the head of the squirrel and then closely inspects the head and one child, whose mother shall remain nameless, that boy declares that the squirrel seems to have died from choking on a pecan.
The boy then asks his grandpa, who happens to be his science teacher, if he could bring the squirrel head in to class in the morning? And Papa says, “great idea!”
6. All of this happened while I was standing in the drive-way. I had no idea. And I’m pretty “alert” as a human being. I actually tend to be remarkably perceptive, or so I’d like to think.
Because this group of boys was standing around this squirrel, not 50 yards from where I stood, and they decapitated a squirrel and then performed an autopsy.
“That was pretty awesome,” said Charlie, his face ablaze with mirth, “that is the coolest thing we’ve ever done with you at home.”
7. I feel compelled to close out this Quick Takes with some kind of Sanity Proviso Disclosure Clause proving that the young men in my life are not mentally unstable. But then I thought, you know, it’s hunting season. And this is life. Or it’s my life anyway and wow! It’s a grand adventure, every second of the day.
Happy Friday! Thank you Jen for hosting!