Bucket o’ Lizard

The boy is at it again . . . pet for a day. This one he caught himself and was so very proud. He played with it for hours after school and cried when the lizard had to be set free . . .

G took very good care of his little lizard as shown by the fact that the lizard managed to hang on to his tail in spite of being handled so much. I’m thinking this was especially nice for the lizard because it appeared he had already lost his tail somewhere along the way and was still busy working on the replacement. G even showed up in the kitchen with the lizard in hand wanting to help the rest of us can meals. The lizard’s invitation to the house was quickly rescinded. The boy opted to hang with his buddy on the patio.

Happy lizards to you,
D

Sunday Night Entertainment

We had friends over for dinner Sunday night and being good hosts we made sure there was a lot of fun stuff to do.

The evening’s entertainment started promptly after an especially yummy dinner when G went across the road to retrieve his soccer ball and then calmly returned and informed me that there was a rattlesnake on the sidewalk . . . right in front of the giant retaining wall his sister likes to sit by when she reads. (shiver)

He wasn’t kidding.

C quickly dispatched the snake . . . because with the number of children and dogs in this neighborhood we really don’t welcome venomous biting creatures. We are picky hosts. It’s true.

The rest of us stood around and watched.

G had to have the rattle.

The head had to go in the storm drain.

This is what was left.

And that was just the evening’s opening act, albeit a difficult one to follow for sure.

Earlier in the day C built a giant cardboard scope of sorts so we could watch the eclipse (because he does really cool stuff like that). We hauled it out into the road and chased the sun around. We started in a neighbor’s driveway.

And then moved it up the hill.

Where random people and their dogs stopped by to check it out.

It was pretty neat to watch the sun take on the shape of the moon.

A nice finish to a lovely and exciting Sunday evening.

The end,
D

“National Emergency! National Emergency!”

That is what the boy came in the house hollering at the top of his lungs the other day.

It took me a minute to tear myself away from the book in which I was engrossed because I felt relatively secure in the knowledge that it wouldn’t have taken my son alerting me to a national emergency if one were actually occurring on our doorstep.

I looked up to see a freckle-faced little boy whose dark brown eyes were resembling saucers beckoning me with his short little fingers.

“Come on, Mom. You gotta see this.” His voice and face were very solemn.

I followed him out the front door and this is what I found:

A poem about what little boys are made of comes to mind.

“Wow, G!” I’m sure overwhelming enthusiasm positively emanated from my being. G quickly shifted gears from serious to delighted.

“Look, Mom! Snail poop!” (Big laugh.)

(No close-up. Sorry. Try to contain your disappointment.)

G brought the snails food and said, “It’s a group hug, Mom!”

Prior to that moment I don’t think it ever occurred to me to put the words ‘snail’ and ‘hug’ in the same paragraph much less the same sentence.

“Awwww – a baby! Isn’t he cute?”

Ditto for cute and snail and sentences.

G was very proud of his collection.

His mamma was slightly repulsed but managed to kept it to herself.

Is it possible to be incredibly proud of your children and delight in their enthusiasm and be grossed-out at the same time? Because if the boy wants to study bugs I will do everything I can to keep my skin from crawling off my body and encourage him. This is evidenced by the fact that the snail collection ultimately wound up being stored in a yogurt container with a custom viewing port designed by our little malacologist . . . on the counter . . . in the kitchen.

Still trying to avoid passing my phobias on to my son,
D

The Boy & His Trap

Leprechaun trap that is . . .

Design by G, future engineer. Or architect. Or stylist.¬†Mamma and Daddy don’t do the kids’ projects for them in this house, by golly.

The leprechaun climbs up the gold coins and follows them until he falls in the can – the lid, of course, remains off until the leprechaun falls into the trap.

(Like the eyes? The child can make his giant eyeballs appear entirely white if he is so inclined. Creepy.)

Before building the trap G and I had this little exchange:

G: ¬†“Does the trap have to be really fancy to catch a leprechaun?”

M: “Depends on how smart the leprechaun is.”

G: “I hope I get a dumb one.”

And just to be obnoxious to all of my friends and family living where winter involves snow, this is what we do after school these days . . .

Amen,
D

P.S. As I’m in the office writing this and G is volunteering to read books if it means he can play a game on Daddy’s new iPad and R is trying to figure out what she can do to earn game time it occurs to me that our children talk just as loud as I do. Poor C.

Presidents Day 2012

A little recap of our very busy Presidents Day (note I wrote ‘day,’ not weekend) . . .

We did a little sewing . . .

The kids are making book covers. If they are ever finished I’ll share pictures of the finished products.

And a little painting . . .

And attempted to make it a little more difficult for Chewy to jump the fence . . .

We planted strawberries . . .

And ollas in the herb garden (so very, very cool) . . .

Played foursquare . . .

Did a little stove repair . . .

Unearthed a potato bug . . .

We took out the remnants of the Ficus tree that fell victim to the December windstorm . . .

We made chicken pot pie . . . 1) how can something so ugly be so yummy, 2) yellow food should never be served in a yellow bowl . . .

And we buried a hamster . . . and placed a cross in memory of the one we left behind in Alaska who died two weeks ago . . . Hazel and Nibblet. We are now a hamster-less family.

Today we’re recovering.

D

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