Skunk Butt Hair

"Why do women do that?" Bob said.
"Do what?"
"Wear their hair like that."
"Like what?"
"Like a skunk butt," Bob said in all earnestness. I burst out laughing. "No, really," he insisted. "They make their hair look like a skunk ready to spray or a porcupine with its quills sticking out. It's ugly."
Note to self - avoid skunk butt hair.

Bahlmanns in Rows

Whenever I spend time with my grandsons (all currently single digit aged), I feel transported back in time because it seems such a short while ago that my own boys were that age.
One of my sons commented to me over Christmas, "Mom, thanks for never making any of us feel like you wanted us to be any different. You never seemed to wish that any of us was a girl. You were just happy to have us like we were."
I wanted to cry with joy to hear that my boys know I love them with no ribbony strings or hidden hair bows attached. What makes it even better is knowing they love me too, in all my weirdness. The best thing is to love one another just as we are.
I can't imagine being anything but a kid inside, no matter how my face may look to you. I'm still just a kid, loving all my kids, and the kid inside of you!

Curly Shirley

Sons and cameras can be a dangerous mix. They could be hiding around any corner, behind any door, with their weapon of choice at the ready. They don't care if a person is presentable, pulling pins out of their hair or taking bites of tapioca pudding with it falling off the spoon and sliding down the chin. But then, they don't care if a mother and son are sitting side by side on the couch, either.
Taking chances can create wonderful memories.

Boys and Toys

My sons got some two-piece magnetic push pins for Christmas presents. Did they push them in a cork board?
No.
Did they put the magnet part on their refrigerator?
No.
They put the magnets behind their ears and lips and in their noses to make facial piercings!
Yes, I laughed myself silly. They're my boys, all right.

Seuss in Two Minutes!

I found this YouTube clip about a teenage girl who read FOX IN SOX in two minutes! We should all try it! (Since I don't know how to download a YouTube right on the page), please CLICK ME! CLICK ME!

Roses in December

I met my newest grandchild this past weekend. Mallory lives in Las Vegas with my oldest son, her mom, and her sister and two brothers. While I was there on December 31, my son cut me a couple of roses blooming in his front yard.
Imagine, roses in December! It was breathtakingly magical, like Beauty and the Beast! We even have the beauty. (See photo for proof.)
I am a happy Grammy.

Santa in my Rearview Mirror

It was a sad day for my little story time kids. The Santa from last year who gave them candy canes after sitting on his knee with excited whispers of what they wanted for Christmas was clean shaven and retired. The other Santa I called had arthritis and couldn't lift even the smallest child onto his lap.
With no other Santas in the wings, I figured we'd just have to go Santa-less this year. I trudged from the library, got in my car, started the engine, checked my mirrors, AND THERE WAS SANTA WALKING ACROSS THE STREET, REFLECTED IN MY REAR VIEW MIRROR! It was a miracle, it had to be the real Santa, even though no reindeer were in sight, tiny or not. I swept out of my parking space, whipped around at the intersection, and charged down Main Street, pulling to a screeching halt next to an astonished Santa. Before he could start running, I jumped out of my car and pled my case. "Would you be Santa for my Story Time kids at the library?"
Santa was more than happy to do so, as long as it didn't interfere with finals at Snow College. (Who knew? Santa never stops learning!)
So thanks to the miracle of rear view mirrors, the Story Time kids saw Santa this year, and Santa got some coupons for free ice cream cones. You know, in case he runs out of snow at the North Pole.
Ho, ho, ho!