Kiera .. born August 10, 2009

Squirt

Everything changes on the face of it

Amazed at how one singular event can do that

Amazing more still is the commonality

And yet complexity of said event

It happens about four times every second of every day

It is a staggering statistic to view all at once

But to each individual involved in this statistic

It is a singularly significant event

Sometimes planned and sometimes not

Eagerly anticipated for months

Building to a physical and emotional crescendo

And topped with a miracle

I wonder if you listened from the inside

While we planned and discussed about you outside

I wonder if you felt the love that held you

Even before our hands and arms held you

I wonder if you fussed in there

When we invaded your privacy

When we took pictures with sound

And examined you up, down, and side to side

Did you feel some bit of understanding

As we touched and rubbed your temporary home

As we awaited your flutters and kicks

As we wanted to feel and be felt in return

Could you sense our impatience in there

As we wrestled with what we wanted the most

And what we knew was the best for you

And how we waited .. and waited .. and waited

Did you know the beautiful violence

That would move you from your warmth

To the warmth of our multiples of affection

And the tenderness of our loving gaze

Will you ever know the fullness of the love

That brought you here to us

Far above the love felt betwixt a man and woman

Until the day of your own singularly common miracle

A little hard labor

A couple pushes

And there you were, squirt

Kiera Jo Faith Bolton

August 10, 2009

Fools follow up and the eyes of a 5-year-old

Some asked for a follow up on the Aprils Fools gag I pulled on the boy. I finally woke him around 9AM. We were going to visit Chris. He opens his bedroom door, and there it is, a new barrier. He poked it. It didn't go away. He called out.

"Hey?!?!"

Silence.

"Uh, can I get out of my room please?"

Snickering.

The funniest part was the reaction of our 2-year-old boxer, Dusty. He was jumping at the plastic. He could see Kyle. He just couldn't get to him. Finally, he jumped up on it and cut it with his toenails. Then Kyle used his sword to cut his way out. He said if it had been earlier, he would have walked right into it.

Now .. the eyes of a 5-year-old. We went to visit my middle daughter and her hubby and kids. Ian is 5 and Abby is 2. They love "Big Papaw". They gave me some static stick stickers. We had to go out right then to put them on the windows of Papaw's truck (yes, Debbie, the big red one.) While they were in my truck they went exploring. Now, the truck is a Chevy Trailblazer Extended. There was plenty to explore. One of the things Ian found in the truck was my camera. He asked and was given permission to take pictures. Here are some of those pictures from the yes of a 5-year-old.

Of course, he had to do a self portrait.

Then he had to get a shot of his sexy Mamaw.
There also had to be a shot of Big Papaw.
And a shot of his escaping little sister.
And a shot of the light at the top of the drivers side door, of course.

Mount St Drama is erupting again

After laying dormant for a while, Mount St Drama has once again spewed, filling our day with smoke and ash. Here are the juicy details:

Saturday, we took N (daughters fiance') to town to catch his bus back to base to catch his plane to Korea. We dropped him off about 15 minuted before his bus was to arrive and said our good-byes. We then turned the big red truck toward home. The snow was such that we didn't want to delay our action any longer than necessary.

Sunday morning, I am up and downstairs, when I hear Lacey (a batwing eared mini doxie) digging around in the back room. This is the room where S (daughter) and C (granddaughter) are staying. I quietly step back into the room to retrieve the little pest and notice that the lumps under the covers of the bed seem to be much more than S and C could make. I, very carefully, pull the covers back a bit and there is N.

It seems that his bus broke down after arriving in Lexington. He was going to stay at the bus terminal until the following morning to catch the next bus, but, it seems that, the bus terminal closes at 11PM. He was asked to vacate. He hitched a ride back to our town.

His orders were to report to Korea by March 5. His commander informed him that, as long as he was back by Thursday this week, he was fine.

S called N's mother and left her a message saying he had missed his bus. He was NOT AWOL. He was not going back that night. Apparently what she got out of the message was: He missed his bus. He is AWOL. He is not going back.

So, today, while we are resting comfortably, there begins this shouting outside the windows. TJ checks out the window and sees a car in the driveway. Before we can get out the sitting room door, C (other daughter) comes up yelling for help. It seems that N's mom has shown up and is out on the porch slapping him, while S is calling 911.

We go downstairs. TJ breaks up the melee. She ushers the combatants off the porch. N's mom and aunt are yelling. We begin to explain, after sending N into the house. Aunt keeps butting in. TJ tells her to let the mom's handle this. She is running her mouth. TJ tells her to get back in her car or get off the property. She starts calling TJ a 'whore' and is using that 'F' word. We tell her she needs to go. She tells me that I "aint nobody." I told her what I was, was a property owner and I had told her to get off of my property and if she didn't the police could handle it. "Bring 'em on," she says, "I'm not afraid of them."

Police come about that time.

They take N's mom to the side to speak to her. Aunt stays in car with mouth shut. They ask mom is she hit N. She says yes. Handcuffs. Back of the patrol car. They speak to N. He never struck back. They explain to the now very quiet aunt that N's mom is being arrested for domestic violence and she can get her out after she is processed. they take statements from N and S.

In KY, N does not have the option to not press charges. They asked her if she hit him. she said she did. The police press the charges.

I am ready for the quiet life. I am ready for psycho relatives of the kids relationships to go away. I am ready for the drama to be over and done. I think this one will be down for a while. N leaves tomorrow. He will be in Korea for one year. Mom and Aunt have no reason to be in my town. I am ready for my cabin in the deep woods accessible only by TANK. TJ says accessible by jeep won't work as too many people have jeeps.

it's that V day thing again

We have been quite busy this week.

The week was capped by a grand visit with my daughter Chasity and grandkids, Ian and Abby. They were in town to attend a car auction to buy a second vehicle. While hubby was at the auction, TJ and I took C and the kids out for some supper. Then they came to the house. We visited for nearly 2 hours. I had a great time with them. Abby was scared of me last time we saw them, a few weeks ago. This visit, she talked to her 'big papaw' and even sat on the couch and brushed my hair. When it came time to leave, she ran to me and gave me kisses and hugs.

Today is Valentines day. (Thought I might let you know, just in case the floral or chocolate industry hadn't done enough to remind you.) Following is a poem I wrote for TJ early in our relationship. It still bears true today. She is my heart. We married just over 5 years ago (Oct 2003) after dating for about 18 months. I still love lying beside her at night and waking with her in the morning. We are still continuing our, thus far, nearly 7 year conversation.

Become

From whence,
From where,
How did you come,
To be standing there;

Was it from my mind,
That you were torn,
Or was it my heart,
From which you were born;

Did my fingers beg you into being,
To feel your softness beneath,
Did my eyes create you,
For the smiles you bequeath;

Did my lips beget you,
To feed this hunger old,
To pass gently across,
To press, ardently and bold;

Did my heart,
Beat you into existence,
Did you simply appear,
Full of yesterday and today’s presence;

Did I breathe you,
Born of winters mist,
Filled with warmth and sun,
By summers season kissed;

Did you become,
For me
Or did I become,
For thee?

Ron Simpson, Jr.
August 31, 2002

A good day

It has been a good day.

Church was good.

I had asked a young couple to bring me a pic of their 2-yr-old son so I could sketch him. They did. When we got home from church, I worked on his drawing. When I finished, I took it to them (they live about 25 miles from us.) We had a great visit. While there I picked up a picture of their 5-yr-old daughter. I drew it when I got home.

Before church, I had some time, so I drew a fellow blogger's son.

Here are the pics. First: blogger's son, Second: 2-yr-old, and Third: 5-yr-old

white again and finally a kyle drawing

The snow is falling. School will dismiss early. We are expecting 2 to 3 inches. No ice.

Kyle has patiently waited for his drawing. He is not the last one of the kids to be drawn. Chasity has yet to be drawn. When you have seven kids betwixt you, it does take a little time to get them all done. So .. without further ado .. KYLE ! ! !

are ya tired of it yet ?

Weatherman says we will get more snow beginning tomorrow. This is a tree in my mom's front yard. She is about 35 miles from my house. She has power, but many Kentuckians do not.
This is her street. It is untouched by city snowplows or salt trucks. She lives about 2 blocks from one of the pricier neighborhoods in her town (pop. 280,000.) The building you can see in the background is a new elementary school.
This is my great nephew, Xavier. He is a card. He is my latest attempt. Kids are so much fun to draw.

the visit

TJ was able to go see her son today. She took it easy all week so that she would be rested. She did fairly well. If you factor in that she is as stubborn as a mule and used to going and going and going (another long eared creature) then you would have to concede that she did excellent. Don't tell her I think so. It is a constant (losing) battle to keep her from doing too much.

We did as the DR ordered for the most part. We stopped frequently enough. On the way, we stopped more frequently than we intended. We needed to get a money order for Chris. We stopped at one convenience store. Once TJ got inside, she discovered their ATM machine was down, their EBT machine was down, their lottery machine was down, and the bathrooms were out of order. Of to stop #2.

Stop #2 was a combination convenience store and several fast food restaurants. It was 10:45 and the store was not open. The restaurants were busy, but informed TJ that the store didn't open until 11:00. Not too convenient, eh? Off to stop #3.

Stop #3 was a gas station/store combo. On the door they proudly displayed that they did, in fact, sell money orders. Yeah! Once inside, TJ discovered that you could not use a credit card or Debit card to purchase their money orders. This was not an issue as they did have an ATM machine in the store was well. She took money out, bought the MO and we were on our way.

I understand the credit card prohibition. However, a debit card is instant. If you do not have the money in the account, you can't use the card. Odd.

Then we were off to see the boy. The place was packed. There was no sitting room at all inside. All seats were taken. One group was called back, freeing up some chairs. These seat were immediately taken by several young people (18-24 year olds .. both guys and girls) while some gray haired ladies stood. Tammy and I went outside in the 30° weather to sit at a picnic table. It ticked us off that these kids sat and did not offer their seats to the elderly. I guess courtesy is a thing of the past with most of this current generation. I do know that my kids would never do that. TJ said the same about hers.

We visited. It was good to see him. We drove home. TJ crashed in the bed. The trip did wear her out. She was happy and tired. She has, reluctantly, taken it easy the rest of the day, so far. I am fixin to go get her some food. (My daughter says I sound so country when I say that .. fixin to.)

"C" sent me a text saying I was more than a parent type. I was a friend. She added that she would be proud to be adopted by me. (Pause for tear wiping.) She is a good kid. She turned 18 in December. She still respects the house rules. She is still feeling out her adult freedoms, but with respect. I feel the same for her that I do my natural born kids. We don't use step here except as a method to get from downstairs to upstairs and visa-versa.

It is shaping up to be a good weekend.

Sharing the misery of the season

I know .. Christmas is a joyous season. I love Christmas. It isn't my favorite holiday, but it is close to the top. My favorite holiday is Independence Day.

I am not being unfaithful to my Christian beliefs by not having a religious holiday as my favorite. It is widely held that while Jesus was born, He was not born in December. More likely it was around August. Shepherds were still tending flocks in the field. Even in the Middle East, shepherds did not keep the flock in the fields in winter.

I know that early Christians were forced by Roman decree to celebrate the state holidays of Rome. What holiday we as Christian celebrate as the death, burial, and resurrection of Christ was in fact the Roman celebration of the Goddess of fertility, hence eggs and bunnies.

Early believers celebrated their own beliefs in the place of the Roman celebrations, and voila' Christian holidays were born. And that is our history lesson for today.

Back to the 'sharing the misery' of the season. If there is anything miserable about this season it is traffic and crowded stores. We were mostly finished with our shopping and avoiding the traffic and crowds, until my daughter told me that her middle son already had the gift we got for him.This meant returning the gift to the crowded mega-store and venturing back into hell (toy section.) The only real mega-store here in Podunkville is Wal-mart. Several surrounding towns do not have their own Wal-mart, so ours picks up the slack. Today, we went into the belly of the beast. We needed a few groceries and to pick up a gift for the boy. It was horrible. There was rudeness, pushing, shoving, and cursing. And, that was just me pushing kids out of the way in the toy aisles .. KIDDING .. (I started pushing long before I reached the toy aisle .. again KIDDING.)

We also needed a gift for my youngest daughter. While I was in line, I spotted the perfect 'sharing the misery' gift. It was so obvious. She keeps telling us that she really doesn't want anything. So, I got her the gift of sharing. I purchased for her, a Wal-mart gift card.

Now, sometime, she has to go out in the traffic. Admittedly it will be less after the holiday, but the taste is still there. She will have to go into the belly of the beast. (Wal-mart is always crowded with rude people .. and some of them are even customers.)

I will write something cute or clever, but she will know, I am sharing the misery of the season.

Merry Christmas to all and to all a crowded mall.

A follow up and tadpoles

We were able to visit TJ's son and return without incident.

As a point of clarification, TJ's son is in jail. For those following my blog for a while, this is old news. For those new to the blog, "C" was involved in an altercation Halloween 2005, in which he defended himself against a choke hold by a neighbor (tadpole) and ended up charged with assault. After a year or so of monthly continuations, "C" accepted a plea deal that was supposed to get him probation and restitution. The DA almost assured him that was the case. When he stood before the judge and plead to a lessor charge with EED added, the judge gave him a 5 yr sentence.

While in, he has done several things which take time off of his sentence. He got his GED (3 month reduction,) participated in an abuse program (3 month reduction,) worked in the kitchen (a percentage reduction based on his working days,) and good behavior. He may get out as early as some time in mid 2009.

TJ was going to see him at least 3 or 4 times a month. The back issue has severely hampered that. It was important to see him today, the last chance before Christmas. I was thrilled that she was able to go.

Oh yeah, the 'tadpole' comment ... some time ago, while driving, I was talking to TJ on the phone (always using a bluetooth handsfree device) when some one pulled out in front of me. I called this charming individual an A**hole. TJ asked me what I said. I repeated it to her. She was laughing, as she said it sounded like I had said 'tadpole.' So now, whenever some one does something so deserving, they are branded as a 'tadpole.'

Have a Merry Christmas and keep an eye out for the occasional tadpole.

The name-chain and the Kyl-Cris stones

Have you, as the parent of more than one child, ever ran through the names trying to get to the one you are calling down? You know, one kid is doing something and in your effort to call their name, you run through the litany of all the kids names. Sometimes, you even include pet names, or make up names. I know my mom did it and with six kids, it could be a long stuttering list. If you were the child in question, (and you always knew if you were) you would stop and wait. You knew the names would get to you eventually. This brief respite while the name chain was being rolled out, was your momentary pause before the punishment or explanation was doled out.

I have seen TJ do this many times. Yes, she does at times include the pet names. TJ has two daughters and two sons. On one of these occasions, she called one of the boys, "Kyle-Chris." From this name chain came the Kyl-Cris stones.

Hence:

The legend of the KylCris stones.

The power originates from the joining of the twin stones .. Kyl and Cris

The possessor of the stones .. rules by the power of the stones ..

Morgan the Lee .. ruled with fear and an iron hand .. challenges to his rule were met with swift and merciless retribution .. Battlefields were stained red with the blood of those opposed to him .. His dungeons rang with the groans of tortured souls ..

Logan the Swift was born a peasant. He grew up a thief. He was a skilled pickpocket and was just as quick with his tongue should diplomacy be called for. More than once, he had escaped the iron hand of the Lee and the shackles of his dungeons.

Still, these were hard times. A man needs allies to live in such days. Alliances were forged in the fire. Every man was an asset or a liability. These days, one could ill afford many liabilities. Life was not highly valued unless it was your own. The lives of others were merely bargaining chips in a game that stretched over the decades since the Lee came to power. Allies were still allies because they were still alive. Ill-fated alliances were generally left bleeding on the field or screaming in the dungeons.

Logan trusted very few. He was loyal to his allies, but relied more on his own cunning and skill.

There were two dungeons located on the opposing ends of the kingdom of the Lee. This was more than coincidence. Beneath the crowded cells in each of them was a small hollowed out cavern. In these caverns were the twin stones. The Kyl in one and the Cris in the other. The power of these two stones crossed the entire kingdom, bathing it in their affect.

At his side, sheathed in leather, was the sword of Morgan the Lee. In the hilt, overlaid with silver, were two slivers, a piece of each stone. This was the source of his control. This was the source of his power. This was the birth and progenitor of his madness.

The power and effect of the twin stones permeated the land. They boosted the natural aggression of warriors. Roving bands of cutthroats roamed the land. Danger was everywhere. There were few laws in a land ruled by the most lawless of all. There were no more idyllic villages. Villages became the property of the underlords of the Lee. The underlords and their bands took without fear. They owned not only the lands, but the inhabitants as well. No one dared oppose them. Owners became slaves at the whim of the Lee.

To be continued ....

One 'huh' question

Have you ever had someone ask a question to which your only retort was 'huh'? I mean, a question that defies the cliche that there are no stupid questions. Believe me, there are some stupid questions. I heard one .. well .. I didn't actually hear the question being asked, but I was immediately aware that the question had been asked.

Let me back-track a bit. I have had a cold/flu thing going on for a few days. Did I mention I hate colds? Anyway, I haven't been eating much due to the whole 'loss of appetite' and 'not being able to taste and fully appreciate the food', thing. So, I have dropped a few pounds. My generally well fitting shorts have been hanging a bit lower lately. Today, I had to make a run outside the house, so, I just put my jeans on over my shorts and did what I had to do. When I came home and walked upstairs, inside my jeans, my shorts worked themselves down and were under my cheeks. Yes, it was a totally weird feeling. I know how my honey feels now when she tells me her pantyhose are falling down.

It is later this evening when I go out to grab some food for us (Tammy is still in pain,) so I am still in jeans and the shorts. We ate, watched a bit of TV. Later, Kyle (13) was fixing to go to bed and was about to step outside on the porch to say goodnight to his mom and sis. My pants were hanging loose, so I pulled them down a bit and yelled for him. YES, I MOONED HIM.

Chella was on the porch on the phone with her BF. She mentioned to him that I had mooned Kyle. Her next statement was, "I don't know why."

Why? Why would anyone ask the question as to why someone moons someone else? It begs the follow up that there would have to be an acceptable answer to the question. As if there is a respectable reason to moon someone. As if you were ever called into court for such an offense and was asked, "why?" and you said, "blah blah blah," and they would say, "That's a good reason. Case dismissed."

Mooning is a spur of the moment reasonless crime. I suppose there are cases of premeditated mooning. I have found in my life that most instances have been spur of the moment. Like the time I was driving 80 MPH down a two lane country road in a part of West Virginia, that lay between where I was working in Pennsylvania and where I lived in Ohio, and a friend was driving 80 MPH three inches off of my bumper, and the guy riding with me laid the passenger seat down, and mooned him. I can't tell you their names as one of them is now a high ranking union official in northern Ohio.

Why ? Why do you moon someone? Because you have a butt and they have eyes, duh !

Of course, Kyle went out on the porch and told his mom he was blind now. Her response? "Oh, Ron mooned ya?"

The Grandkid Anniversary

I am not sure which anniversary the fifth one is, exactly. You know, there is the golden anniversary, the diamond anniversary, the paper anniversary, the china anniversary, and all the other ones. I did check and the fifth anniversary is the wood anniversary, according to one site.

According to Wikipedia, the first anniversary is traditionally paper and modernly clocks. Hmmm, I am thinking with lots of first year couples it is divorce papers or the little clock attached to the bomb under the car, LOL.

Accordingly, the second year anniversary for the survivors is traditionally cotton and modernly china. Yeah, nothing says the honeymoon is over quite like the gift of a new cotton flannel nightgown.

Again, according to Wikipedia, the third anniversary gifts are leather traditionally and glass modernly. I am quite sure I didn’t give TJ anything leather for our anniversary, although, there are several interesting leather things around the house. Somewhere, there is even a leather rose.

Now, the fourth year anniversary gifts are linens or silk traditionally and appliances modernly. I have bought TJ several silk things. I don’t recall if one of them was for our anniversary last year, but it is possible.

This brings us to the anniversary of today, numero cinco. It is, as I said the wood anniversary. Modernly it is the silverware anniversary. We haven’t bought anything for this anniversary as of yet. However, this afternoon, my daughters are getting together to celebrate my youngest daughters 21st birthday (yesterday) and it appears it is going to be a libationary one. My oldest, (the one that remembered to call me on my birthday one week ago,) asked me if we could watch her children. That would be three precious angels, (sometimes equally referred to as demons.) we agreed. Then, Tammy’s oldest asked if we could watch her 15 month old angel/demon while she tried to catch up on some rest. Of course we agreed.

So, it appears that the fifth wedding anniversary is going to be the grandkid anniversary. Or, as I like to call it, grandpa locked in his room while grandma pulls out her hair. Oh, the fun we will have.

Audrey and the spider named Wilson

Audrey had her partial hystorectomy. They did leave her ovaries. The surgery was done by a robot controlled by her doctor. Audrey said it looked like a spider. Her nurses said it was named Wilson, hence, a spider named Wilson. It was cool. They made 5 small incisions and that was it.


Tammy and I spent the night at the hospital. The staff there brought me a chair that unfolds out to a bed. Still, it wasn't my waterbed. Add to that, that the staff came in about every hour to do something, take something, check something, and it was a restless night. We left this morning. She was doing better and Adam (hubby) was on his way there.

This pic is her, post surgery.

They say she will go home this afternoon, if she pees on her own and gets up and moves around. Amazing!

Strange Questions .. or .. Helping educate the next generation

Last night, we were watching some TV, when a commercial for Dairy Queen came on. it was one where the red lips (spokesman/Spokeslips ? for DQ) was talking about gravy and biscuits. Then he (assuming this because of the voice .. not a gender bias that all free roaming lips must be male,) is drenched with gravy. After licking it all off, he yells, "Is that all you got?" and is doused again. Tammy commented that it looked good. We had to be out and about today a little early. I suggested that we get biscuits and gravy for breakfast. Tammy accepted my suggestion and approved the message. (Sarcastic political humor here.)

This morning we venture out. We have the Chella with us. (I'll update that situation later.) I didn't feel in the DQ mood this morning. I had already decided on a different course. I drove away from the house in a direction opposite the DQ direction. Tammy chimed in that she didn't care one way or the other if I didn't want to go to DQ. I told her I had decided to do the Cracker Barrel instead. She was enthusiastically for that.

As we were chowing down on delicious gravy and biscuits, and sausage for Tammy and I, eggs and bacon for the Chella, Chella made a comment/question about rocking chairs. She queried as to why old folks (I didn't ask her definition of old .. after all, she is only 17 .. definitions of old are decidedly age specific,) liked to sit in rocking chairs. I was aghast. How could a bright young girl not be clued in to the wonders of the rocking chair? How could she not be aware of the magical portal that accompanies rocking chairs? How, in her nearly 18 years, had these things escaped her education?

I explained to her the mythical ways of the rocking chair. I told her how troubles vanish and cares fade in the gentle rocking of these thrones of stress-less-ness. When you sit in a rocking chair, and begin to move it back and forward, the goodness of the world is magnified and the badness in minimized. One is magically transported to a time when peace ruled the planets. Somewhere out there is a chaotic, turbulent, tumultuous, existence. however, here in the arms of the Rocker, serenity reigns.

As we finished our meal and began to leave, we passed a couple of rockers set up on either side of a barrel sporting a checkers board. I had Chella sit in the rocker. I began to rock her gently. i asked her how that felt. "Like being back in my mothers womb," she replied.

She went on outside while I paid the check. When I got outside, I found Chella, in a rocker on the outside. We have a new convert. I am just doing my part to educate the youth of today. As we left our small town and ventured into the big city, Chella laid down in the TB and slept peacefully. The serenity of the rocker still clung to her. She slept in peace ..

Why indeed !

Kyle asked, a couple days ago, what was the name for the highest number? What was it called?

Where do these kids get this stuff? I told Kyle, there is no highest number. If you were able to count to the highest number, when you got there, and boldly proclaimed that you had reached that pinnacle, someone nearby (and there is always someone like this nearby,) would say, "and one." The counting would begin anew with each new level receiving a new name, "and one."

I trust this helps in educating your youth !

A proud moment in the life of a parent

Some times I look at the kids (seven of them) and shake my head sadly. For the newer readers, (to save you from scrambling through the blog for this pertinent information,) three of mine biologically and four of Tammy's biologically. We do not use the term 'step' when it involves family. Add to this my time teaching high school students by the score, and proud moments can be few and far between.

A few days ago, my middle daughter, Chasity, told me some news that just warmed my heart. Her oldest child Ian is nearing the threshold of being five years old. She began to tell him about the test required before he could officially turn five. This test contains a sampling of the sum knowledge required to be five years old. It made me proud.

Let's go backward in time to a day when my youngest was about to turn six. This would have been near October, 1993. I told her that she had to pass the six-year-old test in order to turn six. If she did not pass the test, she would be required to remain five for another year. There would be no party and no presents. She was on the verge on believing when she looked at her mother, that last bastion of virtue, that last hope of the young, and she said, and I quote, "He's lying."

Still, Chasity telling Ian about the test was wonderful.

Of course, that was not my only foray into child cruelty via alternative reasoning and parental trust. A few of the favorites that my darling children still reminisce about are:

*Recording tornado warning during the tornado season and then playing them arbitrarily to watch them scurry about wanting to turn the couch over and get under it.

*Taking the dogs to get rabies shots at the fire station and telling the kids we were ALL getting rabies shots.

*Reaffirming the children's belief that a stream running near the house and behind a hospital indeed was a dumping place for discarded organs and body parts.

*Telling them that the peeled off treads of retreaded semi truck tires littering the highway were actually alligators in disguise awaiting unsuspecting motorists with car trouble and then tapping the gas to feign car trouble.

*Telling Audrey, the oldest and a chatterbox, that she needed to stop talking or she would use up all her words. Further making it more believable by explaining the people that use up all their words lose their voices and those that don't use all their words talk in their sleep.

Of course, all of these were dispelled when a glance at their mom would bring those two words they longed to hear, "He's lying."

My baby, Heather (the six-year-old test skipper) told me a few days ago that she needed a TV. Her roommate owner of the TV moved out and took it with her. She and remaining roommate took a cardboard box and made a TV out of it. they even put the cable box on it and put the wires into the back of it. They made screens which displayed the History Channel with a special on Hitler and one of the TBS or TNT hit CSI programs. As I listened to her tell the story about fooling her older sister by telling her that her TV only got 2 channels, I couldn't help but be proud.

My sense of humor will survive me. A proud moment in the life of a parent.