Forsooth! No, actually, forTOOTH!

Kiddo has gone to the dentist faithfully every six months for years now. (Thankfully, she also is cavity-free, woo-hoo!) At her last visit, Kiddo was quite concerned about the possibility of having a loose tooth. Her best friend, who is a few months older, had a wiggly tooth that fell out a few weeks after our trip to the dentist, and more have fallen out since then. The dentist looked at her x-rays (done last November) and informed us that (1) Kiddo isn't likely to have any loose teeth until she is closer to seven years old, based upon the way her adult teeth were progressing in their development, and (2) that she is definitely, definitely, DEFINITELY going to be a candidate for braces when those adult teeth do start appearing.

Somewhat mollified by the fact that we'd have some time before we had to deal with reality (2) since reality (1) was purportedly far off in the future, I have spent the past six months peering admiringly into the mouths of Kiddo's friends and other friends' kids, complimenting the wiggliness of their loose teeth and oohing and aahing over the gaps that were subsequently appearing in their smiles.

Which is why the sight of this:


shocked me into speechlessness (and let's face it, I am very, very rarely at any loss for words) earlier this afternoon. I don't know how long that tooth has been loose, and Kiddo seemed to be as surprised as I was by the discovery. Hubby was the one who noticed, as we were having lunch today (Kiddo had a half day so we drove over to the side of town where Hubby works and met him for lunch as a treat) and Kiddo opened her mouth to take a bite of her fruit salad. He actually saw this:


more than he noticed the actual tooth in front of it being loose all on its own. As soon as I returned from liberally ketchup-ing Kiddo's hot dog, he pointed it out, that monstrosity of an adult tooth crowding on up into view. I was, to say the least, very surprised by the sight.

Yeah, more like totally gobsmacked. My first thought was "Oh, Kiddo bonked herself in the mouth at some point and *knocked* the tooth loose... surely that can't be an adult tooth right there...." but no, there it was, a legitimately loose tooth.

Now, I suffered through over a decade of major orthodontia myself as a child (having that second set of adult teeth, as I did), and I am therefore a relatively experienced judge of impending dental wonkiness. This, my friends, with the ginormous adult tooth jutting up completely behind instead of under the baby tooth? A wonkiness red alert! So, while prediction #1 may've failed, I am fairly certain that the dentist's second prediction is soon going to come true in a big, expensive way. Good thing we've added Kiddo to the dental insurance!! She has her 6 month check up in a few weeks (ironically, we usually go within a week of Halloween - last year we went November 1st, of all the days to go to the dentist!) and I can't wait to hear what the dentist has to say about the newest state of her mouth.

In the meantime, the most pressing matters here at the house are WHEN will the tooth actually fall out and WHAT will the tooth fairy bring her? (Grandpa in NJ thought it was hilarious to tell Kiddo that the TF brings kids $100 for their first tooth. Mommy then told Grandpa that the TF also bills the grandparents for that service. Thanks a lot, Dad.) Kiddo, having just finished reading Ramona the Pest in which Ramona loses her first tooth and gets a whopping dime from the TF, has much more reasonably low expectations. Okay, we might cough up a dollar or perhaps a small toy type thing instead, but she's not getting any major cash, as much as my dad claims inflation. (Kiddo is now reading the first of the Paddington books, and professing, as Hubby and I both did at the same juncture in our lives, an overwhelming passion for marmalade.) I just really hope the tooth doesn't fall out at school, because that could be a major disaster. (DC - if you're reading this, be prepared! I'll letcha know if the tooth's still hanging in there come Monday morning...) I just hope it doesn't come out in her sleep (I remember wiggling my loose teeth with my tongue in bed at night) and then disappear, either down her gullet or into the cosmos. That baby tooth is miiiighty tiny! As a child, I once lost a tooth while spending the weekend at my grandparents' house. I saved it in a baggie to take home and leave under the pillow for the TF, rightly guessing that she wouldn't know to come to Nana and Pop's, and my grandmother had the audacity, when she came upon the baggie with my tooth tucked carefully into my suitcase, to throw it out!!! I was beyond distraught, and called my parents hysterically crying about how Nana threw my tooth out in the garbage. (Nana just didn't get what all the fuss was about. I don't think my dad and aunt ever were visited by the Tooth Fairy as kids...) Fortunately, Mom explained a loophole through which we could write the TF a letter explaining the lost tooth, and the TF came through - I had a quarter waiting under my pillow that next morning after arriving home. (Took me a loooong time to forgive Nana for that egregious crime, though...) While I'm sure Kiddo would understand such an explanation, I'd hate to have to give it to her for the very first lost tooth!

I ought to confess, I got a little choked up over this unexpected development. I mean, yeah, it could partly be due to PMS, but this is such incontrovertible evidence that Kiddo is getting BIG, and I wasn't expecting this for another year or two at least, so *sniff sniff* it got to me. (Kiddo is not quite yet five and a half...)

So, that's the latest development here in our corner of the world. After lunch (which she spent mainly looking at her tooth in the compact mirror I carry in my purse), Kiddo called all the relatives and friends to share the news, then put on her lion costume and we hit the pumpkin patch for our annual Halloween pictures. They're ridiculously adorable, if I do say so myself, so if anyone wants to see 'em, let me know and I'll hook you up. As always, I'm not posting them here because of the internet weirdos and all that, blah blah blah.

Sweating our way through the House of Mouse

Okay, we've been back a little over 27 hours now, and it's starting to sink in that we're no longer on vacation at Walt Disney World. Le sigh. I've done a preliminary sort through the hundreds of pictures we took (haven't even gotten to the ones that the Disney photogs shot on our various photopass cards...) and am now ready to do a mini-photo review of the past week.

Before I get to the pictures, however, let me just share with you a few thoughts that went through my vacationing brain:

- When they say it isn't the heat, it's the humidity, they are right on (whoever "they" may be). Holy heck, was it humid! Heat indexes were over 100 for most of our stay thanks to the high humidity - all we had to do was step outside our hotel room and we'd begin sweating profusely. Breathing was in and of itself a way to work up a major sweat. This is also how I managed to acquire what is, for me, the deepest tan I've had in about two decades: despite faithfully and persistently slathering (and re-slathering) on the SPF 45 or 50, I'd sweat through it in a matter of minutes. Ew. At least I didn't burn at all, so the sunscreen helped in that regard.

- Whereas the "sweatproof" sunscreen proved to be no match for Heather in High Humidity, the Secret Clinical Strength anti-perspirant/deodorant I bought for the trip was phenomenal. My B never had any O to it whatsoever thanks to the mega-deodorant, something I sadly cannot say the same of for many of the other park/resort guests.

- I understand that some women want to look their best at all times. I get it that some women don't feel "done" and ready to face the world without a little cosmetic assistance in the mornings. That notwithstanding, why on Earth do some women feel the need to do full-on, Tammy Faye makeup applications before spending the day at an amusement park? In central Florida? In August? That may be why so many of said women looked like Tammy Faye; as there is no such thing as sweatproof sunscreen, neither is there truly sweatproof makeup. Well, if there is, these women weren't wearing it - more than once we passed someone who looked like an extra in that House of Wax episode of Fantasy Island my sister and I snuck into my grandparents' bedroom to watch one night (FI was totally forbidden viewing) and which gave us both nightmares for weeks...

- Speaking of fashion don'ts: I saw men wearing manpris. (Manpris: capri pants "for" men.) This is not attractive in any way. Either suck it up and wear actual pants or put on some shorts, but the "three to four inches of hairy calf-n-ankle" isn't a good look for ANY man, even George Clooney, I dare say. Seriously, Tim Gunn would so not approve. Also not really fashion dos for a theme park in the middle of the hottest month of summer: stiletto heels (more often than not worn by the women in full makeup), shorty overalls with nothing on underneath (believe me, we could tell she didn't even have a bra on under the bib part), mesh ANYTHING (especially the large-weave mesh on one particular gentleman's tank top) and of course, Speedos. Well, okay, I can avert my eyes when necessary for the banana-hammock suit in a proper locale (I have spent time in Italy at the beach in the summer, so I get that the Speedo is more popular in other countries than it thankfully is here in the States), but bathing suits in general and especially the Speedos should not, I repeat NOT, be worn anywhere other than the immediate vicinity of a pool/water park. This includes hopping on the bus back to the hotel in nothing but your dripping wet bathing suit and squeezing yourself into the seat next to me or mine. We don't want to be rubbing up against your moist, sweaty, bare flesh, thankyouverymuch.

Speaking of the bus, we used the Disney transportation for the entire week, and man, it saddened me over and over again to see how little courtesy there is in what is supposed to be the Happiest Place on Earth. The most egregious violation of common courtesy (other than the wet-bathing-suited riders who couldn't even be bothered to throw on a t-shirt) was the way people would take or keep a seat ahead of someone who obviously needed it more. You know, like a teenager or 20-something sprawling out on a crowded bus, thereby forcing the elderly person or person with a cane or walker to have to ride standing. Hubby, Kiddo and I gave up our seats repeatedly in such cases, and it seemed to me that most of the folks who would give up a seat were families who would either take a child onto the parent's lap or make their kid stand for the ride instead. Also, is it that hard to say "thank you" these days? Just because someone is a park employee, be they bus driver, "cast member" working at the rides and attractions, waiter or housekeeper (whoops, I mean mousekeeper), that certainly doesn't mean that the rules of common courtesy don't apply. I was quite proud of Kiddo for consistently saying "thank you" to the bus drivers every time we disembarked. Apparently some people think being on vacation means being on vacation from being polite as well... I was shocked at the number of adults who would shove past other people just to get to a ride first or to get into a better spot to see something, like the parades or characters. It was crowd mentality at its worst sometimes, I'm afraid, and it wasn't too heartening to see.

But enough griping from Crotchety McGrump! On to the good stuff (and by that I don't mean mesh tank tops and manpris)! We had such a great time from start to finish, aided in part by careful planning to accommodate the kiddo's SPD needs and to stay as cool as we could given the heat. (One of the best strategies we employed was to schedule some time each day for Kiddo to run around on the playgrounds at each of the parks. She loved the Honey, I Shrunk the Kids playground at Hollywood Studios and the Space Shuttle playground at Epcot the most. At the Space Shuttle playground, Kiddo befriended a little girl - as she does, since to Kiddo there are no strangers, only friends she hasn't yet met - and I busted out my rusty Spanish to chat with her new friend's mom and grandmother. They were from Argentina and spoke no English at all, but somehow Kiddo and the other girl managed to play just fine for over half an hour. Amazing the ease in international relations when one is a child... I was just glad that the mom and grandmother were gracious enough to not laugh at my half-remembered Spanish, but instead were extremely pleasant and friendly even as I butchered their language to their face.) Hubby, who is a planner extraordinaire, researched and planned and strategized to the nth degree and therefore we were so well prepared that we didn't have a single thing to worry about. Just about the only thing we didn't have with us that we could've used was some WD40 (or axle grease) for our Freecycled umbrella stroller, which disliked the humidity and horrendously squeaked accordingly. Other than that, Hubby had everything set up so well that we had nothing to do but enjoy ourselves. From the cases of bottled water he ordered and had shipped from the local Costco over to our hotel the day we arrived to the mini-cooler and ninety million Ziploc bags in all sizes from wee to ginormous, we were set. We enjoyed one park each day, plus time at the hotel's pool (delightful, and with a long, long waterslide that Kiddo particularly adored) and ate our meals in the various resort/park restaurants using the Disney Dining Plan. We ate SO much and SO well and still had some snack credits left over at the end of the trip. Apparently we'll have to eat more next year...

Best Rides/Attractions of this trip (there were some we didn't get to, like Space Mountain, the Tower of Terror and the Kalihari River Rapids - they'll be priority rides for next year):

- Expedition Everest (Animal Kingdom): Woo! What a ride! I was planning on chickening out of this one, but am SO glad I let Hubby talk me into it (after he went on it first). Totally the best ride I went on this time around, and gave me the courage to NOT chicken out on the Rockin' Roller Coaster (featuring my beloved Aerosmith) next year.
- Soarin' (Epcot): This is the hang gliding experience ride that they imported from Disneyland to significantly jazz up The Land portion of Epcot. It was spectacular, especially the first two times we rode it when we managed to sit in the first row. The third time (unfortunately also my MIL's first time, so she had less of a spectacular time) we were in the back row, so we had feet dangling in our peripheral vision from above and the edge of the screen in our peripheral vision from the sides and below. Let me tell you, even though I knew this was just a ride and that we weren't really miles and miles up in the air, I still had a minor panic attack the first time we rode it. It really feels like you are flying, and hoo nelly, did that freak out this "fear of falling from a great height" chick. It seriously was mind-over-matter to keep calm but I loved it nonetheless, weirdly enough.
- Mission Space (Epcot): This is the flight simulation of a shuttle trip to Mars. Another ride that Hubby went on first (Kiddo was too short) and then convinced me I would enjoy. Unfortunately, riding it in the later evening and by myself meant that I got stuck in the simulator (very close quarters) with a Drunken Yokel Couple. (No offense to any possible yokels out there who may be reading this, of course.) I'm talking beer breath (hello Germany Pavilion Oktoberfest), leathery skin (with rather red necks), misspelled tattoos (but did they even know it?), a NASCAR muscle t-shirt on him and one of those "body in a bikini" t-shirts on her, and maybe 30 to 35 yellowing teeth between the two of them. Did I mention they were drunk? I'm just saying, NASA would never have allowed them to fly in that condition, but Gary Sinise (via video feed from "Mission Control") apparently had no such concerns. Despite their drunken, yokelly antics, I still totally loved the ride, and feeling all that G-force was ka-razy!!
- Test Track (Epcot): We did this one twice, and it reminded me of riding in the back seat of the car with my dad driving, only I knew that this was a much safer ride. It only gets up to 65mph (Dad goes much faster than that on the highway), but the tipping of the turns made it seem a lot scarier and faster than that!
- Turtle Talk with Crush (Epcot): This was so cool, more from the "observing the kiddo" part than anything. It is some real Disney magic that enables the animated Crush the Sea Turtle to actually converse with people in the audience. Crush encourages kids to ask questions, and he called on Kiddo (her question: Is the ocean warm or cold?) and interacted with her for about 2 minutes. Way freaking cool.

Foodwise, we ate some spectacular meals. The best of the best were the lunch we had at Yak and Yeti (Animal Kingdom) which was perfection on a plate, the Kona Cafe (Polynesian resort) which had this honey-macadamia nut butter for the bread that came before our delicious steaks and which I could've eaten straight out of the ramekin and somewhat surprisingly, the lunch we had at the Norway pavilion at Epcot. We ate lunch at Norway because it was one of the character dining experience locations, specifically the Princess Lunch for Those Families Who Didn't Manage to Get a Reservation for the Princess Meal at Cinderella's Castle. Hubby and I were willing to suck it up and eat some lutefisk or whatever it took for Kiddo to get to meet a slew of princesses in one, fell swoop, but we were amazed and delighted that the lunch was terrific! I'm going to look up the recipe for the kjøttkaker we ate. Kjøttkaker is kind of a Norwegian meatloaf, and it was quite tasty!

The hotel was great, and sharing a room with Kiddo (her first time ever in a hotel) wasn't too bad. She wouldn't fall asleep with us in the room, so each night we'd shut off all the lights and step outside (our room opened directly to the outdoors, not a hallway). We'd give it a few minutes and head back in and she'd be out cold. As soon as she was asleep, we could turn the lights back on and even put the TV on and she wouldn't wake up. The only downside to sharing a room with her is that I wound up sleeping with her each night - she'd wake up and want to come get in our bed to snuggle, so I'd wind up crawling into hers instead. Hubby enjoyed having a queen bed all to himself, and I was just glad the room had two queen beds because Kiddo likes to go sideways in her sleep, thereby guaranteeing a foot in Mommy's ribcage or armpit or groin in the middle of the night.

Okay, enough about the food, the hotel and the fun rides. This is officially an epic length post, so on to the photo recap (and by the way, all the pictures were taken with the new, red Sony Cybershot camera I won from SITS)....



This is the walk from the main building at the Coronado Springs Resort to our room. We were a decent 10 minutes away from the main building, but just about a four minute walk to the pool and the bus stop, which was very convenient. The walk was quite scenic, too, going past the lagoon and beaches and through shaded pathways crawling with lizards and toads (quite exciting to Kiddo) and gorgeous flowers.





This was my highest score on the Toy Story Mania game/ride. Not too shabby, until you take into account that this:





was how well the kiddo (yellow) and I (green) did the first time we went through. I blame my low score in the first game on the fact that I was distracted by trying to help Kiddo out with the game. (You'll notice - or rather WON'T notice - that I neglected to photograph the shooting accuracy percentages, so you will not see that I had a measly 23% accuracy to Kiddo's 34%....) Oh, the reason these two pics are blurred is not shoddy photography but because they are part of a 3-D game and I didn't think to stick my 3-D glasses in front of the camera lens.



There are "living statues" around the various parks, and Kiddo quickly spotted this Army Dude at Hollywood Studios. She told him some secret and he high fived her in return, but she wouldn't tell me what she said to him.



We did three separate character dining experiences this time around. The first one was the Playhouse Disney lunch in Hollywood Studios, and Kiddo was way excited to greet Leo from the Little Einsteins (who wears glasses JUST LIKE HER! WOO!) - she hugged him so enthusiastically I was worried his gigantic head might tip right over backwards!




Hollywood Studios was doing a "block party" parade, featuring characters from the Toy Story movies, A Bug's Life, Monsters Inc and The Incredibles. At one point, the dancers invited the audience to dance along with the Twist, and Kiddo took them literally. She took off running, bolting through the crowd we were stuck behind (one of those times when adults decided to stand directly in front of the kid in the stroller, grrrr) and was half a block up by the time I wormed my way through the throng to get to her. She twisted right there in the middle of the parade and would've climbed aboard the float behind the Disney Dancing Dude if I hadn't stopped her!



The Magic Kingdom. Hubby snapped this from the Flying Dumbo in front of us, conveniently obscuring most of Kiddo's face with Dumbo's ruffle so that I could post the picture on my blog. Well, I don't think he actually obscured her on purpose, but it works!



Character Dining Experience #2: Pooh and Friends at the Crystal Palace. We did this one last November as well, but thought it would be fun to do again. Tigger was messing with Kiddo's hair in this shot; he swished her pigtails around until they were a disaster and then tried to smooth them back out. Tigger clearly has no clue how difficult and painful it is for Mommy to get Kiddo's hair into the two pigtails to begin with...



Kiddo really, really, REALLY wanted some mouse ears. On our second trip to Magic Kingdom, we acacquiesced (she also had money saved from her birthday to use however she saw fit on our vacation). We went to the shop where you can customize your own hat, and she chose pink and pink (or "blush" and "bashful" as Shelby in Steel Magnolias would say). She also had her name stitched on the back in hot pink script. The hat is a bit large, so it should be wearable for a good few years before it needs replacing.



Finally, the Mouse Himself up close and personal! We'd glimpsed him from a distance (at the Magic Kingdom opening, for example) but this was the first time Kiddo laid eyes on him - and he laid hands on her - and she was super excited about it! So excited, in fact, that she neglected to get his autograph. This was at Epcot on our first trip there.



Test Track! As you can see, the wind does go whipping through your hair as you head around the outdoor portion of the track. I'm impressed I caught this much of Kiddo and Hubby as I was photographing from the seat next to them whilst whipping around hairpin turns, perpendicular to the ground!



Here I am outside the Nemo rides (in The Living Seas pavilion at Epcot). Yes, I hopped up onto the wall to get my picture snapped with Dory, Marlin and crew (I cropped Kiddo out from the other side of Marlin and next to Nemo). Lots of other folks did it first, so I'm using the "peer pressure" rationalization here. (No, I wouldn't jump off the bridge too, don't worry...) Once again, I am just ridiculously sweaty here, I haven't just been doused by a fire hose or something.




While we had some really good princesses at the Norway lunch, Snow White wasn't one of them (neither was Sleeping Beauty - instead we had Alice of "in Wonderland" fame, and excuse me, but when exactly did she get promoted to princess, eh?) so we went back around the World Showcase to meet Snow White (and Dopey!) in Germany and Sleeping Beauty (with Prince Phillip - no, not of England, of Sleeping Beauty fame) in France. Snow White had a great voice that matched the movie character quite well (in other words, kinda squeaky and almost annoying) and she had a lovely chat with Kiddo despite the black storm clouds rolling in above her. We did have great weather for most of the week, with the exceptions being this particular afternoon and again almost all day Saturday, when Gustav sent some rain to Orlando. Both rainy spells occurred while we were at Epcot, strangely enough...



This is Animal Kingdom, and if you look closely you'll see that no, Kiddo isn't just waving at a tree, she's waving at DeVine, who is a performer (for lack of a better word) who wanders about the park, insinuating herself into the foliage and then moving again to surprise the passers-by. We'd been tipped off to her presence and were able to spot her for Kiddo, who was quite amazed, especially when DeVine held out a "branch" for Kiddo to shake.




They have these same types of "misters" around the Strip in Vegas, too. However, that dry Vegas heat helps the mist cool you then evaporate quickly, whereas here, this just looked like an animated version of the air we were in already. Kiddo enjoyed it though!




One of the highlights of the trip for Kiddo was going to see the Festival of the Lion King. You'll note we were right down in front, which was very cool. Kiddo loves this show, and when she got her Fairy Godmailer postcard "from Simba" a few weeks ago, he referenced the show which made her even more excited about it. She wore her trading-pin necklace to the show (we mostly kept it in the backpack unless she wanted to trade with somebody) and kept pointing out the Simba pin she'd acquired earlier in the week to all the various cast members as they danced and sang in front of her. Hee!



This is the safari ride, and if you look in front of our truck, yes, that is a giraffe holding us up. I mean, not like a "stick up" but holding up traffic. The giraffe meandered across the road and finally over to the other side where there was an adorable baby giraffe hanging out. I'm pretty sure this is the only time in my life I've ever been stopped in a vehicle because of a giraffe!



Back at Epcot for a rainy, rainy Saturday. Between the cloudbursts, we did the World Showcase to try to catch the characters we missed earlier in the week. This time around, Kiddo wanted to do the "Kidcot" activity where she could decorate her own mask and then get stamps and little paper symbols from each country to attach to it. We stopped at about half of the different countries before abandoning the plan due to the rain, when Hubby stuck the mask (along with everything else we were carrying) into some gigantic Ziploc bags to keep dry.



And home again, home again, jiggety jig. This is the pile o' luggage and Kiddo (plugged in to her Leapster as she was on the plane as well) waiting for Hubby to retrieve the car from the longterm parking lot. She is sitting next to her Baby Simba, which Hubby got for her from the hotel gift shop one night. She didn't really need another stuffed animal, but hey, he's cute and he comes with his own "leaf blanket" that Kiddo loves to wrap him up in.

So there you have it, our week at Disney World! Hubby is editing the video footage together and I'll be posting more pics (probably on Facebook) so if you want to see more, just let me know!

Happy Birthday America!

Hope everyone across the country has a happy and safe Fourth of July! Back in the day, the 4th always meant sparklers for the kids and a fireworks show put on (generally illegally - 'cause what better way to celebrate our country's independence than by breaking the law?) by my dad. He was such a fan of pyrotechnics that I find it rather amazing that he still has all ten fingers and toes all these years later...

There is no way in heck I'd hand the kiddo a lit sparkler, and even with her new-n-improved bedtime of 8pm-ish, she won't be awake to watch any fireworks tonight. Hopefully she won't feel deprived in her later years by her spectacularly un-explosive holiday celebrations.

I'd like to give a special shout-out today to my good friend Kathryn, who is celebrating her first Fourth of July as an American citizen. Yay, Kathryn!

Ramble-rama

Warning: I feel a long-n-rambling post coming on here...

This has been quite a week here in the Smith house. It kicked off on Sunday with the arrival of Grandma and Grandpa from the motherland (aka New Jersey). The kiddo was especially excited about this because Grandpa was going to go fishing with her in the pond behind our property. She sat on the back deck for most of the afternoon, practicing casting with her new Dora fishing pole (which was a birthday present and had yet to be used) interspersed with impatient, repeated questioning as to G&G's whereabouts ("Are they still in Pennsylvania? They're in New York now? We're in New York so they should be at our HOUSE now, Mommy!") and then persistent requests to call them (oh the joy of the ubiquitous cell phone) to see how far along they were. Now, as the kiddo well knows by now, it is a six hour drive from our house to theirs, if you're driving reasonably close to the speed limit. My dad? He makes Mario Andretti look like a turtle. (Um, sorry, I'm wholly unfamiliar with NASCAR and therefore do not know any more current drivers. I could call my 4 year old nephew and/or his father, who are NASCAR fans, or I could google NASCAR and come up with someone better to illustrate my example, but I'm feeling lazy and therefore will just blather on about how I don't know any race car driver other than Mario. He's a classic at least, right?) Dad can usually make the trip up here in less than five hours, but even that wasn't fast enough for the kiddo. She had him out in the back yard looking for worms for bait within approximately three seconds of their car pulling into our driveway. I'm pleased to report that the fishing expedition was a rousing success - the kiddo caught her first fish ever on her very first cast! It was a sunfish (I'm pretty sure sunnies are the only fish in there, this pond isn't exactly a sport-fisher's paradise) and it was almost bigger than my father's palm. The kiddo was so thrilled it didn't even matter that the sunny was no larger than her (admittedly big, fat) goldfish, Swimmy. Grandpa duly unhooked him, we admired him and then Grandpa tossed him back into the murk. I'm pretty sure that the kiddo then proceeded to catch that same sunfish at least twice more over the next hour, along with one sunfish that Grandpa said was ready to lay her eggs (no idea how he deduced that as I was busy trying to wipe goose poop off the bottom of my flip-flop) and one that both Grandpa and the kiddo swore was MUCH larger than the first (second, and third) sunfish. Like two inches bigger. Woo! Now the kiddo has majorly caught the fishing bug, so I envision many a future weekend afternoon spent digging up various corners of the back yard in search of worms and then waving to Daddy and the kiddo as they stand down by the pond. (I haven't obtained a fishing license yet this year, so technically I cannot help the kiddo fish, but Daddy has his already, so he's good to go.)

So, that was Sunday. Monday morning, Grandpa left and the kiddo had her second-to-last day of preschool. I had to help set up and then clean up the teacher-staff appreciation lunch that we were throwing that day, so Grandma, who was along for the ride, got drafted to help with that. She mostly helped by keeping the kiddo occupied and out of my hair so I could attend to the setting up and the cleaning up as needed, which was very awesome. She also rummaged around in the school's kitchen and came up with various bowls and utensils that hadn't occurred to me that we'd need for the lunch. From what I hear, the lunch was a success and the teachers and staff enjoyed it, which is very, very good to hear. They all worked so hard this year and did such a phenomenal job that I wanted to be sure this luncheon was a nice treat for everyone involved in the classrooms. I also had a licensed massage therapist come and do chair massages for anyone who wanted one, but more on her later...

Monday afternoon was the kiddo's first gymnastics class. Well, not actually her very first - we tried gymnastics classes once before when the kiddo had just turned three. That time was a raging, flaming disaster. She made it - and by "made it" I mean "was physically present in the gym" and not much more in terms of actual gymnastics study - through two classes that time around and I pulled her from the class. That was mere weeks before she was evaluated and we learned about SPD. In retrospect, don't know what the hey I was thinking signing her up for gymnastics back then. Actually, I do know what I was thinking. We'd done Gymboree for a long time and the kiddo loved all the climbing on things and physical, gym-type activity, so gymnastics seemed a logical progression. Unfortunately, it was too much for our sensory seeker to handle, as she got way overstimulated and couldn't control herself - she literally couldn't sit still, much less listen to or follow any instructions.

But we are two years older and wiser now, and the kiddo has almost two years of OT and PT under her belt now as well, so when she asked - begged, really - to try gymnastics (after spending countless minutes transfixed in the doorway of the gym on our way to or from the pool for swimming lessons, watching the gymnastics practice in progress with a passionate longing in her eyes), I agreed. With some modicum of caution - I didn't buy her the leotard I was fondling at Target (yet) and instead sent her in shorts and a tank top to the first class. Well, I'm so happy to say that she was a champ! She listened to the instructors, sat mostly still (at the least, she didn't wiggle around any more than any of the other gajillion kids in her class) and consistently managed to wait her turn without cutting in front of any other kid. For a whole hour! Woo! She also made her best attempt to do each thing they were being taught - for an hour. Woo woo woo! And, if I may brag for a moment (though it's not just my bias; other moms sitting along the wall said so as well) the kiddo was the Best Somersaulter of the whole class. She could be the next Nadia Comaneci! (Okay, I just did that "classic" example on purpose, to go with Mario. I can totally be more current when it comes to gymnastics. Mary Lou Retton! No? Shoot. Um, Dominique Dawes! She was on the Olympic team in Atlanta... ooh Carly Patterson, I think she was from '04... There ya go, from this century! I can be current!)

Tuesday was the kiddo's last official day of preschool, which was followed by an afternoon at our local zoo. We hadn't been to the zoo since April, and there were a few new things open since our last visit. The most exciting of these was a frog exhibit (dude, I am totally serious: you must check out the Vietnamese Mossy Frog - way, way cool) and the new baboon exhibit. While those baboons can get quite x-rated (and a few did, though thankfully the kiddo's attention was elsewhere so no need for an uncomfortable, public Q&A session), there also were several juvenile baboons who were clowning around and being quite heeelarious. At one point, two of the younger baboons came right up to the kiddo and attempted to swipe her lion, Ectobert, right through the glass. (We generally are accompanied wherever we go by at least one member of the kiddo's stuffed animal menagerie - that's just how we roll. Ectobert also visited Disney World with us last November, though Terry the Triceratops was the one who got to visit Dinosaur World in Tampa and Joey the Giraffe went to the Lowry Park Zoo on that same trip.)



Wednesday was the kiddo's preschool graduation. It was a Very Big Deal, held in the decked-out-for-the-event auditorium and complete with a slide show (which elicited many an awwww), caps, gowns and a processional by the class to the strains of Pomp and Circumstance. The parents were worse than any swarm of paparazzi, but isn't what the event truly was about? It was positively lethally adorable from beginning to end, including the songs (complete with hand signs), the receiving of diplomas (though the kiddo was far more interested in the ice-cream cone shaped bottle of bubbles that was also in the bag) to the semi-unison bow at the end. This was followed by a reception featuring many delicious treats and therefore much sugar consumption (specifically in the form of heavily-frosted-in-neon-blue cupcakes - the kiddo has issues with highly processed foods and certain food dyes, so this was not good), which was followed by a rather hellacious afternoon of the kiddo being way out of whack and wired, falling asleep in the car which is highly unusual, and culminating in the week's darkest point when the kiddo got not one, not two, but three nasty, large splinters in her one foot from walking on the deck barefoot. (Hubby blames me squarely for the splinters, as we had learned back when the kiddo was a newly-walking babe not to let her be on the deck barefoot as splinters will ensue, but yesterday I didn't make her re-shoe after playing in the grass with some water balloons...) The three nasty splinters led to more than an hour and a half of serious freaking out during their attempted removal. It took a combination of Grandma, Mommy and then Daddy (who arrived home from work to the screams and squalls of the freak-out at about its one hour mark) to get the splinters out. I'm a bit surprised that emergency vehicles didn't come screeching up to the house, as we had all the windows open and she was howling loudly enough to make it sound like we were doing far more sinister things than attemped splinter removal. Thank goodness they eventually came out and the judicious application of many Curious George, Disney Princess and rainbow band-aids aided in calming and a return to peace and relative quiet.

Today, my mom treated me (and herself) to a massage at my favorite massage place on Earth, which coincidentally happens to be owned by a friend and former colleague of mine. Oh heck, it's my blog, I'm gonna plug it: Retreat House Massage and Wellness Center - if you're in town, check them out. Tell Joan that Heather sent you! After my hour on Joan's table was up, I was my usual post-massage limp noodle self. Deeeelightful, especially after the residual tension from Operation Splinter Extraction 2008. I am a total massage junkie, and if we ever became indecently wealthy, I would most definitely have massages as part of my regular weekly schedule. Weekly? Perhaps daily, even! Since we are nowhere near indecently wealthy now, I'm trying to train the kiddo to become a champion back scratcher, but so far, results are fair to middling at best...

Another potentially dark moment for the week - on our way home this afternoon (after depositing Grandma on a train back home), the low tire pressure light came on in the Sienna. I pulled over as soon as I could and inspected the tires for signs of an obvious flat. There weren't any, though I thought three of the four tires felt a bit squishy. It seemed safe enough that I continued home, where I left the van in the driveway for Hubby to inspect when he got home from work. He came to the same conclusion - it could be any one up to all three of four of the tires. His solution is to wait and see whether one starts looking noticeably flatter, at which point he'll replace it with the spare (which is a full-sized tire) and we can take the flat in for repair/replacement. Thank goodness for lifetime tire warranties! I'm not quite as psyched about this plan as Hubby seems to be, but the kiddo and I have no pressing plans for tomorrow so if we wind up stuck home with a flat (Mommy doesn't change minivan tires. Daddy has and will again soon, I suspect - that low tire pressure light has yet to be mistaken.) it isn't a big deal. I will not have the effects of my massage ruined by flat tire stress!! There is a lot of road construction going on around town, and we were driving through/by a lot of it, so who knows what I inadvertently picked up in my tire(s) while out and about today... Stay tuned!

Lastly, before I head downstairs to help rid the fridge of some of the array of leftovers we acquired over the past several days, I wanted to show off these:



Woo! Hummingbird! Captured on film! Er, not film, actually - um, captured in pixels? Okay, how about captured on camera! Yay! This particular hummingbird has been hanging around the feeder for the past week, and in between drinks, he (she?) hangs out on this one particular branch in the same tree. Could we have a hummingbird nest in our future? Fingers crossed!

Eating like a bird?! Ha!

We've had bird feeders in our yard for several years now. We started with just one, and this year are up to three (not counting the occasional peanut butter-pine cone type feeder the kiddo makes and brings home from school), as well as a hummingbird feeder.

Let me tell you, that expression "S/he eats like a bird" is not exactly accurate, at least not around our house. We have been going through more birdseed than I could ever have imagined, and I don't even keep the feeders constantly full. Seriously, I just finished off a 25 lb bag of seed that Hubby bought last month. That's a lot of seed. We don't have squirrels or other non-bird type feeder raiders, by the way - in the 8.5 years we've lived here, I've never seen a single squirrel or chipmunk anywhere in the neighborhood. I think the lack of utility poles and the small number of trees has something to do with that...

We have a lot of different birds that frequent the backyard feeders, everything from itty-bitty sparrows up to big, fat mourning doves. (The mourning doves are extremely lazy - they will sit on the ground under the feeders and wait for a more enterprising bird to tip some seed out from above, then eat off the ground.) I've seen cardinals and goldfinches and we have blackbirds by the piefull. We also have loads of robins, and since I put up the third feeder on the front porch for the petunia basket family, we are positively lousy with finches, too.

As I was out refilling the feeders just now, I could hear bird calls picking up and getting more excited and loud. (Yes, I may be anthropomorphizing here, but I swear I'm not exaggerating.) It sounded for all the world like some birdfeeder scout was alerting the copse behind our property "She's finally refilled the feeders - chow time, y'all!" Sure enough, within five minutes of my returning indoors, the back yard is full of birds, in our two pear trees and all over the ground. Makes me extra-glad we covered the berry patch!

The hummingbird feeder is especially exciting to me. I never get tired of watching the hummingbirds come in for a drink of nectar (I make my own) and then dart away again over our fence. Some of them are smaller than large dragonflies and others are quite big. According to the hummingbird websites I've checked, we don't have many varieties in our neck of the woods, but I've seen a few that don't look like regulars for area every now and again. If we lived somewhere further south, where they get the more exotic varieties of hummingbirds, I might never leave my back yard or my window! I've been trying in vain to photograph the hummingbirds at the feeder for years now. If I had a fancier camera, like the one my dad has with the multiple shutter speeds and especially the crazy zoom lens (I'm pretty sure he could get a picture of our hummingbird feeder from an upstairs window from the farm in NJ), I would likely be more successful. Well, it's something to keep me busy, stalking the feeder with my base model camera at the ready.

Speaking of photographing birds, I finally managed to get a relatively clear shot of Mama Finch on her nest through the front window yesterday. The basket was swaying in the wind (we had some severe storms blow through and the wind was no gentle summer breeze!) so it isn't the sharpest photo, but I think you can see Mama clearly enough...

With said storms, I did take the baskets off the hooks for a bit so they wouldn't blow away during the worst of the wind. To my surprise, I realized I was wrong when I said there were only four babies in the nest - number five is there, albeit a lot smaller than his/her siblings! Woo! All five finches made it!

By the way, are these bird-related posts really boring? Am I driving readers away from my blog with the incessant bird chatter? Hmmm. I just find the whole thing kinda fascinating, as evidenced by my continued posting. Hopefully someone out there is as interested as I am in the topic...

Lazy Sunday

First of all, if this post's title made Chris Parnell and Andy Samberg's SNL digital short run through your head, welcome to my brain. (The Chronic what? Cles of Narnia!) I've loved that clip since its original airing...

We've had a lazy Sunday here this year for Father's Day. I asked Hubby what he wanted to do today and his (somewhat tongue-in-cheek) response was "Breakfast. Nap. Lunch. Nap. Watch golf. Eat dinner. Watch more golf. Sleep." Well, the only Smiths that napped today turned out to be the cat (as per usual) and the kiddo, which was unusual but she's running a fever today, due, I think, to the four booster shots she had late Friday afternoon (quadruple OUCH but at least we're done with vaccines now until middle school). At least I'm hoping that's all that is causing it - she is asymptomatic otherwise, and certainly perked up following the nap, lunch, a popsicle from the ice cream truck, a water balloon toss with Mommy while Daddy practiced putting in the back yard and relaxing inside in the AC.

Speaking of AC, the AC still isn't fixed in the Sienna. Yes, argh to the tenth degree. Apparently there was a second part they didn't expect would need replacing, but it does, and they didn't have that part on hand, so it's now been ordered and we have an appointment to bring the Sienna back in again on Friday. That means another week of driving the kiddo back and forth to preschool (about 20-25 minutes each way) without AC. The good news is that the weather isn't supposed to be so stinkin' hot this week. The bad news is that the forecast is calling for rain every day this week, so we may not be able to cruise around with the windows open as we have been. Let's hope that Friday does the trick and the van is fixed once and for all!!

So anyhow, back to our day today. The kiddo woke up at four this morning, but went back to bed with a little coaxing before getting up for real at six. I got up with her so Hubby could sleep in, which he did until about 7:30. (Sadly, that counts as sleeping late in this house. Pathetic - I recall when "sleeping late" meant not being awake before noon...) Hubby actually requested ties for Father's Day, and the kiddo and I duly obliged and got him three new ones for his collection. The kiddo has surprisingly good taste in tie selection, and Hubby has received more compliments on ties that were her choices than any other. I have to give myself a wee bit of credit in this department too, though, as the one who will gently influence her choices as well as having the final say in which get purchased. This mainly comes into play when the kiddo spots a novelty tie - any novelty tie - because she has a mad, crazy passion for them. She will beg and plead and insist that Daddy would LOVE that one - the day-glo baby blue one with the flamingos and palm trees, or the one with giant lipstick smooches like Rocky Horror meets the Mary Kay lady, basically the tackier and louder the tie is, the more she thinks Daddy MUST have it. This time around, I had to dissuade her from picking the blue tie with the pink shirted, green shorts-ed lady golfers teeing off all over it. "But Daddy LOVES golf, Mommy!" Yes, true enough, and yet that isn't a tie that Daddy would ever wear in public, so it remained on the rack for some other dad's neck. (If it had been cheaper, say $5 or so, I would've gotten it - in part as payback for the Grandma Mother's Day card he let the kiddo pick out for me - but it was only marked down to $13 so no dice.) I think the kiddo would've loved growing up in the heinous, preppy fashion era of the 80s. I recall some horrible clothing, covered with worse patterns than any novelty tie, that people wore intentionally and with a straight face. My former school headmaster had a few pairs of cords covered with things like lobsters and tennis rackets that he'd frequently wear, not to mention madras slacks and pastel sweaters, and no one batted an eye. The kiddo would've LOVED those pants, as well as the wrap-around skirt I had back in seventh grade that was covered in (I kid you not) frogs.

The only thing we actually accomplished today as far as any work goes was to put up the netting that will hopefully keep the birdies away from the berries in our berry patch. Last year the netting was quite successful, but it was a ginormous PITA of a project. I put it up and removed it by myself and swore that next year, I'd get Hubby to help. So, he did, and thank goodness. When I say "ginormous PITA" I am vastly understating. That netting, yeesh, it is clingy and folds back on itself and gets tangled and can't be spread out.... essentially it is not a job for one person. Between the two of us and a few muttered curse words (the kiddo was safely out of ear's reach in the house), we hung it up in a way that I hope will make it easier for us humans to access the berries while keeping the birds out, and not get all tangled in the branches and brambles, which happened last year. The raspberries, blueberries and blackberries all look really promising in terms of buds and fruit, and while it was a bumper crop for my strawberry plants, they once again were itty bitty - hardly more than the size of a large raisin - so I left them on the plants as they ripened for the birds to eat. Which they did, with nary a "thank you" beyond a liberal splashing of bird poop along the edge of the fence in the corner where the berry patch resides.

In nesting news, all the finch babies are hatched and the end number is four. I don't know if the last egg was a dud, but when I took pictures the other day, there was still an egg left to hatch, then the next time we checked, no egg and no baby. The four that have made it seem to be healthy and thriving - they're already big enough that we can see their little beaks pointing up over the edge of the nest when looking from the window. Very cool. Mama Finch finally discovered the bird feeder I'd placed on the corner of the porch, right near her nest, and has invited every other finch in the area to join her. I counted fifteen finches (all female) on the porch and in the bushes around the porch when I peeked out the window earlier today. Finchtastic!



So, hopefully everyone out there had an equally relaxing Sunday and to all the dads out there (including my own and my hubby) - HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!!!

Six random things

Whee, another meme - this one from my dear friend Coco's blog...

Six Random Things About ME!

1. I can wiggle my ears. (This may not sound like much, but it has already garnered me Coolest Aunt Ever status in the eyes of my four-year-old nephew, who was quite disgusted to learn that his own mother can't do this. "But Aunt Heather can, Mom!" Hee!)

2. My feet are two different sizes, both unfortunately large. My left foot is a 10, my right foot is a 9. I generally buy size 10s and then deal with always having one shoe being a size too large. I recently read Helen Mirren's new memoir and she mentions in it that she too has two different sized feet, and mentions the first time she ever had shoes that fit both her feet, which happened after getting two different pairs - this was the year she won all the awards for playing Queen Elizabeth, so apparently I just need to get nominated for an Oscar (or at least a Golden Globe) and then I'll be able to have two matching-yet-different-size shoes brought to me, along with fabulous, couture gowns. At the very least, it is something that Dame Helen and I have in common, so that's kinda kewl.

3. I eat my food one thing at a time. Always have, ever since I was a child. I also have issues (aka another one of my things) with foods touching. I don't have a conscious pattern or plan to the order in which I eat my food, but after trying to figure out what my subconscious pattern is, I've found I generally eat the meat item last and I usually start with the vegetables, unless there's salad and then I eat that first. I must say one of the things I enjoyed when I lived in Italy (student exchange the summer before my junior year of high school) was the fact that meals were served one thing (course) at a time, even at home for plain, old, non-company, informal meals. Also, I rotate my plate so the food that I'm eating is closest to me. Yes, buffets and holidays are rather nightmarish, and yes, I'm the butt of many jokes (my uncle never fails to ask me if I want one of those plates with the dividers at Christmas dinner) because of it, but I just can't help it!!

4. I was on Jeopardy once. (March 11, 2003 to be exact.) I came in second thanks to a killer Final Jeopardy question, but Hubby was proud of me for "not betting like a girl" on the Daily Double or FJ and I don't think I embarassed myself too badly at any point. (Of the questions I answered, I only got two wrong. Not too shabby.) Even though I didn't win (cue Weird Al here), we still threw a huge viewing party - over 100 friends came, ate pizza and cake (that featured the picture below on it - no one would eat my face HEE!) and watched my 22 minutes of semi-fame. So much fun!!

5. I cannot for the life of me dance. I have zero dancing ability. I cannot, even with lessons, adequately or accurately perform any real dance steps. This was more of an issue back in school, when I longed for a career in musical theatre but dreaded (and failed miserably) each and every dance required of my part in the various school shows. The worst of the school show dances was senior year when I had to jitterbug... I still feel the need to apologize to the unlucky boys who had to suffer through being my partner back then. Nowadays, my public dancing opportunities are much more limited, and it's a good thing, too. The Electric Slide? I'll invariably wind up facing the wrong direction. Forget anything more complicated than that. I did briefly master the Macarena (the year it came out and was all the rage, several of our friends had weddings, so I had the opportunity to see it, if not do it, on a pretty regular basis) but even that has left me. Just about the only dance I can do is the Hokey Pokey - I even manage to screw up the Chicken Dance. Yes, I am that stereotypical Rhythmically Challenged White Person. I'm not quite as bad as Elaine Benis, however...

6. I know how to dock tails and perform castrations, and I've done both many times in my life. (To lambs, folks, let's not let imaginations run wild here...) I actually know multiple methods for properly castrating and docking tails. When I was in fourth grade, we had a public speaking assignment for which we were to do a five minute presentation on a topic that would be "different, interesting and educational" for our classmates. When I mentioned this assignment at dinner that night, my father (he of the perennial jokester personality) suggested I do docking and castration, pointing out it wasn't something anyone else in my class was likely to know much about. (True enough - the only other kid in my class who lived on a farm was a boy named Dale, and his family just kept chickens - no docking or castration required there.) Unfortunately for my future chances at popularity, I took Dad seriously and duly created my five minute presentation on just that subject, complete with illustrated diagrams drawn carefully on large sheets of OakTag, and memorized my speech. The morning of the presentation, I asked my mother if I could take our elastrator to school as a prop. It was then my parents realized what my topic was, and this was not the most opportune time to learn Dad had been kidding. It was too late to change subjects at this point, and I was darn proud of the effort I'd put into it and insisted I wasn't redoing anything. So, I sealed my fate as Weirdo Nerd Girl by confidently and loudly describing the various methods of docking and castration, with color diagrams and props. No one had a single question for me (I'm sure if we'd been in junior or senior high, they would've come up with something), but the teacher, who had left the room and returned with a few other teachers specifically to watch my presentation, could barely stifle her laughter. She was crying from the effort of not laughing. Thank goodness this was before the digital video, camera phone and YouTube era. I did, later that year, do the same presentation to fulfill an annual requirement for my 4-H club, and no one - not a child or adult - found my topic the least bit funny then. It seriously was several years later before I realized the true extent of what I'd done that day. Obliviousness and innocence saved me on that actual day in 4th grade, but retroactively, I was horrified!

So there you go. Six random things about me. Feel free to join in the fun, either in the comments section here or on your own blog, and please link back if you do!

(Oh and in non-random things about me related news, the kiddo is doing much better. No more vomiting, no more fever, enough antibiotic in her that school looks like a probability for tomorrow.)

April Fools' Day

My dad is a master jokester. Seriously, I could go on for pages about the various jokes and pranks he pulled. One that comes to mind every April 1st, however, is the one I'm going to relate now. It was the best April Fools' joke I've ever had pulled on me personally, and one of the best I've ever heard of anywhere else.

It was the year that I was 13 years old. Dad hadn't tried anything yet all day, which was unusual because he was typically good for at least a mini-prank before we left for school. By evening, we'd mostly forgotten about April Fools' and were going through the motions of a quite mundane day. Mom and Dad decided that we'd get pizza for dinner, which was a huge treat back then. Any take-out food was rare in our house, and certainly something to be celebrated. Mom called in the order to our local pizzeria (which we supplied with tomatoes for a few summers when Mom and Dad's gardening got way out of hand and we had an entire, large plot dedicated to tomatoes and cucumbers) and after the 20 minutes were up, Dad headed out to get the 'za. As he pulled back up our very long driveway, he was honking the horn of the truck. This wasn't an entirely unusual occurrence, as we had all manner of cats and dogs as well as a goat that used to let herself out of the barn whenever she darn well pleased, and various combinations of these critters would often hang out in the middle of the driveway, blocking traffic from going any further. (I once, in later years, came with an inch of pancaking that dang goat as we played Chicken with her goaty, swaybacked, saggy body and my beloved Oldsmobile Delta 88. I kept creeping forward, inch by inch, as she stood firm, bleating and spitting at my car. Oh, Skeeter...) The honking did serve to draw our attention to the kitchen door, though, so my sisters, mother and I were all gathered in the kitchen as Dad came in bearing three pizza boxes aloft.

Now, the fact that he had THREE pizza boxes should've tipped us off, as we normally only ever ordered one or at the most two pies. Maybe my mom realized something was up, but before any of us had time to process anything, BAMMO! Dad tripped on the doorstep and landed smack dab on his face and on the pizza boxes, now instantly crushed beneath his chest. There was one eternal second of horrified silence, then the wail went up: "OUR PIZZAAAAAAAAA!" Our faces fell as low as Dad, prone on the floor, pizza boxes squished flat as could be. I think my mom may've asked whether he was okay, but for us girls, it was all about the food. That made the moment even sweeter for Dad, as he groaned and slooooowly got up, shaking his head and saying "well, I guess there won't be any pizza for dinner tonight after all." I believe at least one of us kids was in tears at this point, and we were all equally devastated at the thought of no delicious, cheesy pizza - any alternative menu just couldn't be as tasty and might well include *shudder* lamb, as we had a freezer full of previous barn occupants ever at the ready. We begged him to check and see if there was any slice left that could be salvaged, when he sprang it on us - "APRIL FOOLS'!!!!!!" He opened the boxes to show us that they were empty, while the real pizza was waiting out in the truck. He'd convinced Phil, the pizzeria owner, to give him a few empty boxes so he could prank us, and oh yeah, he got us good that year.

The kiddo is a little on the young side for April Fooling, but that isn't going to stop me from trying to come up with something we can do to Daddy when he gets home from work tonight. I have a few ideas, all of which I think would make Grandpa proud. Shhhh, don't tell him we're plotting, and happy April Fools' Day!