Fishing Preparedness

Wise Alaskans appreciate preparedness.

My children, I am pleased to announce, are actively applying the preparedness lessons they have learned.

(Make a note – that sentence did not include the word “appropriately.”)

For example, one can never predict exactly what one might encounter when fishing. It is, therefore, prudent to anticipate a variety of circumstances.

I’m not exactly sure what my son thought he might encounter this afternoon when he headed out to the tiny little pond on his grandparents ranch to fish for catfish with his father.

Clearly he wasn’t anticipating falling in the pond. Whatever he was expecting I’m assuming he felt prepared.

 

Or at least really, really cool.

I think we’ll revisit the lesson on appropriate flotation devices.

Cheers,
D

Do I know you?

The other day G looked like a Texas country boy . . . clean-cut hair, shirt tucked in, jeans, belt where it belongs and cowboy boots.

I hardly recognized him.

Who are you and what did you do with my child?

It lasted for about three hours.

And then the boy I know came back (minus the hair) . . . just in time for a trip to town (much to his father’s chagrin).

If you look closely you can see that the boots are even on the wrong feet . . . because if they were on the right feet it was either a) entirely by accident, or b) because someone else put his shoes on his feet for him.

That’s my baby!
D

Kid Logic & Carrots

G – to his sister – very indignant – eyes wide – voice loud – left arm gesturing across the room – arguing about how smart a specific friend is . . .

“Oh, ya! Well I know he doesn’t eat carrots because you know why?!? Because he didn’t even see me when you hit me and you hit me RIGHT HERE!”

I’m waiting for him to blame me next time he loses a toy . . . waiting for him to tell me he couldn’t see it because I haven’t fed him carrots lately.

Blah Blah Black Sheep

G sang Baa Baa Black Sheep to me tonight at bedtime. This is his version. It contains no typos.

Blah Blah Black Sheep have you any wool?
Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Free bags full.
One for my master. One for my lame.
One for the little boy who lives down the lame.

He informed me that when he is a teenager he will change the last line to say, “One for the little girl who lives down the lame.” That is because he will be bigger than R and R will be “shrinked” (hands held 12 inches apart to illustrate) so he will get to be the master.

Does that mean he thinks she is the master now? Scary.

Sleep Deprived but Cozy

So this is what the master bedroom bed at my house looked like one night last week.

Aren’t they cute and cozy? (Cozy is the operative word when you share a bed with two children, a dog and a cat.)

But besides that . . . what does this picture tell you?

I mean, other than the obvious . . . which is, “Good grief woman when are you going to get rid of that pink countrified cat comforter your mother bought in 1988 for her spare bedroom and get a real grown up bedspread?”

And maybe give the Winnie the Pooh pillowcase to your kids while you are at it. (You get an extra 10 points if you can identify it in the picture.)

So other than those little tidbits what else does this picture tell you? Take another look . . .

Yup . . . it clearly says, “Daddy’s out.”

Sleep deprived but cozy,
D

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