Oops

About three-quarters of the way through my run this morning, I looked down to find that while getting dressed in the dark, I had somehow managed to put my shorts on inside out. Pockets just flapping in the breeze. I am hoping that, as my Grandma used to say, it was never noticed on a galloping filly.

And Just What Is That Supposed To Mean?

Yesterday, while helping Max get dressed for a dinner out, I was explaining to him that two of his friends and their families would be there as well. Max made the observation that both of these particular friends have sisters, and that he didn't have a sister. "That's right," I responded. "And what do you have instead?" He thought for a moment and then answered, "I have Cal."

When Will I Learn?

I find myself doing desperate things when attempting to get things done around here. Even after our previous experience, I decided that laundry (currently located in the garage) was worth the risk of allowing Cal to again play in the van. I thought I had him beat this time when I did a preliminary sweep of the car to ensure that there was nothing he could injure and that nothing could injure him. He played happily for several minutes until he'd had enough and wanted out. Happy to have transferred a load and started a new one, I went to retrieve him, only to find that in the usual course of pushing buttons, Cal had managed to push the driver's side door lock and permenantly locked himself - and my keys - inside. Keys. Right. Long story short, his removal required a phone call to Dad at work and a very long 15 minute wait. I had on my hands (or just out of reach of my hands) one sad, sad little boy. Over and over he pounded his chubby little hands on the windows and shouted, "Mommy! Where are you?" He was temporarily distracted by the scattered animal crackers he found in the process, but there was much rejoicing when Dad arrived to save us all.

Boys Will Be Boys

While sitting at the bar enjoying their afternoon snack, Max and Cal discovered a snot sucker that had been retired and was on it's way to the trash. After giving it a practice run on his own nose, Max offered his services to Cal. Cal apparently enjoyed it much more than he did as a newborn because he shreiked with laughter and asked for more. Maybe a little more personal hygiene would get done around here without my help if I'd start leaving things like soap and fingernail clippers around, too.

Ca - ching!

So, in an attempt to get the garage cleaned today, I offered to let the boys play in the car, something they are constantly begging to do. Happy as clams, they climbed in and proceeded push buttons and turn our new mini van inside out. About 20 minutes into the project, I hear a muffled little voice shouting "uh oh. UH OH!!! MOOOOOOMMMMMY!" Cal often escalates a perfectly normal situation into emergency status, so I wasn't terribly alarmed until I climbed into the van myself and discovered that he had taken all of my euro change (not an insignificant amount, mind you; it was money saved for tolls) and shoved it coin by coin into the air conditioner. Sigh.