Cowboy at Heart

Jonathan (5) has been claiming for a couple of years now that when he grows up he wants to live at the lodge (a dude ranch where we vacation each summer) and be a wrangler. He loves to dress in the whole cowboy outfit and even has spurs for his boots. In addition to being a wrangler, he also wants to be a “rock star” (like our pastor/praise team leader) and play the guitar and sing. He often considers his guitar part of his outfit.

We have a friend who wrote the official state ballad of our state and has also written and recorded many other country and western songs about our state, cowboys, etc.

The other day our family was listening to one of his borrowed CDs in the kitchen. As usual Jonathan was trying to sing along even though he had never heard the songs before. In the middle of one of the songs, he exclaims: “Mommy, we need to buy this one!”

I said, “Does it speak to your soul?”

Jonathan (with one hand over his heart), “It makes my heart sing!”

I Stand Corrected

The other day Michael insulted my southern roots when he said: “Mom, we don’t say ya’ll in Montana.”

The Khakis

Being the only girl in a house full of boys (including my husband) has its challenges especially when it comes to bodily noises and gaseous emissions. Both my boys are following in their father’s footsteps (and maybe their mother's) and becoming experts in this area.

With that said, I was totally unprepared for the incident that took place the other day.

Both my husband and 5 year old were already in the kitchen having breakfast when my 7 year old finally came downstairs fully dressed for school in his brand new khakis.

He looked so handsome.

The only problem was that the khakis were a little too long. I quickly stopped and bent down behind him to roll them up. What I didn’t realize was that I had placed my face precariously close to his backside.

The next thing I heard was an exclamation of “Fire in the hole!” followed by an explosion close to my ear and raucous laughter.

Needless to say I quickly jumped away while the males in my house high-fived each other. I dare say they got me.

Now those of you who really know me, know that I am not a snob in this area of body humor. I will readily admit to releasing toxic fumes myself for the sake of a good practical joke. However, this episode took me totally by surprise due to my seven year old’s amazing sense of timing and control.

I will forever be on my guard from here on out…as should they.

I'm So Proud

Today my husband came home at noon and was busy making himself lunch. He was cooking bacon and eggs. To cook the bacon, he lines two cookie sheets with foil and then lays every strip of the one pound package of bacon side by side in neat order. (He then cooks it for 20 minutes at 400 degrees in case you are wondering).

Since I had sort of a captive audience with him, I thought it would be a great time to tell him about mine and Jonathan's adventures for the morning which entailed getting the 5 year old a check-up at the doctor’s office.

I was so proud of him; he was so tough getting three shots and blood drawn without crying (I didn’t say without wincing or without making a terrible face!). I was bragging about what the doctor said about him…one of the things being that he is “perfectly proportioned”.

At this my husband gives the first indication that he is listening, looks up at me and says “I know!” with a proud and excited glimmer in his eye. Seeing that this conversation was making him happy, I proceeded to add more tidbits to the story.

However, when he got a confused look on his face, I realized, to my dismay, he thought I had been talking about the bacon.

Seriously? Seriously.