Young Love

This is what my baby gave to her boyfriend for Valentine's Day. She had these bottles of Jones Root Beer made up with their picture on them. I didn't even know you could have that done until the UPS guy came last night and delivered them. You can drink the root beer and everything. Isn't that a cute idea? Adorable, precious and all of that?

And this is what my baby's boyfriend gave to her:

AAAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!! A diamond ring? Look at those fingernails. You are just a baby!

Look at that face! Look at those faces! They are babies! Stop using the "M" word right this instant!

All I can hear in my head right now is Gus from My Big Fat Greek Wedding saying, "Why do you want to leeeeave me?"

Stop growing up right now before I ground you!! I hate young love! Don't go! Come back! You forgot your blankie!

Wait! I forgot to tell you something.........

I love you.

Oh, and HAPPY FREAKIN' VALENTINE'S DAY.

Flashback Fridays

For everyone who doesn't already know, it's... at Too Much Information. So go on over to Tara's, and add your post to the list.

My Flashback Friday picture this week is short and sweet. I just wanted you to dig those super cool 1960's curtains.

My Elijahs

Both of my grandfathers' names are Elijah. They are both still alive, which is saying a lot considering I am no spring chicken. The are both adorable and they are both perfect. Both were married all their lives to the same woman (women?).

This is "Papaw". He lives here in Ohio. He will be 90 in April. This picture was taken of him this past Christmas at my house.

This is "Grandpa Peanut". He lives in Florida. He turned 90 last July. I took this picture with him last summer.

My grandpas are truly good men. They are easygoing, responsible men. They put their families' first their entire lives. When my son was born, I gave him Elijah for his middle name. I am so glad I did. He is turning out to be similar.

I am so fortunate to still have 3 of my grandparents. I guess I have longevity in my genes. And aren't they the cutest?

My Long Lost Twin

I think I met my long lost fraternal twin separated-at-birth last year. Not really, but maybe mom has a few questions she should answer.

I went with my son to buy a used car and the guy that sold it to us was filling out the paperwork with his left hand.

"Oh, you're left-handed," I say. "Me too."



"Well, technically, they say I'm ambedextrous, but there are really only two things I do with my left hand. Write and eat."


"You are kidding me," I say, "those are the exact two things I do left-handed."


"Yeah, when I was a kid," he said, "they tried to give me left-handed baseball gloves, but I kept putting them on my right."


"That is really weird." I am getting a little freaked now. "They used to try to get me to use left-handed scissors, but I kept going up and exchanging them for the rights."

"I also bat right-handed," he said.

"Me too!"

Oh, and did I tell you, this guy had red hair? Not quite as bright as mine, but red nonetheless and he looked to be my exact same age.

I left the car lot with Ricky Ricardo echoing in my head, "Mom, you got some splainin' to do."

So...me being a smarty pants and a genuine pain in the butt, when John came home, decided to torture him a little. This is a sport I practice often and get a good deal of satisfaction out of. I do get bored during the day, after all. So I ask him, "Honey, we've been married a long time. What are the two things I do left-handed?"

"Uhhh..."

I raise my eyebrow, hands on hips, foot tapping.

"This is not going to end well for me," he says.

I give him a hint, "It's the two most important things you do. One of them is the reason I have to sit at a particular spot when we go to a restaurant."

He started guessing everything except the two things. I was getting tired of playing this game and actually a little hurt by this time, so I let him off the hook and told him.

I turned to walk away.

He hates it when I walk away mad, so he blurts, "What do I do left-handed?" He asked me in a very nah-nah-nah-nah-nah tone. He thought I would say, "Nothing" because that is what he truly believed.

"You drink your coffee left-handed," I growl.

His jaw hit the floor. "I do drink my coffee left-handed," he realized.

I lick my finger and make a floating 1 in the air. Then I pretend erase it, lick my finger again, and make an invisible 100 in the air. BURN!!

A BIT OF TRIVIA

When I was in Florida last year, Grandpa Peanut, notices me eating with my left hand and says, "Did you know that about half of the U.S. Presidents have been left-handed?"

"Really?"

"So left-handed people must smart," he says. He is the sweetest, big huggy bear.

When I got home, I looked it up and, sure enough, 6 of the 12 presidents since the end of WWII, including Obama, have been left-handed.

Not only that, but in 1992, all three of the contenders were left-handed. So, Bill Clinton, George Bush, and Ross Perot were all up there at their podiums, writing with their left hands. Cool!

The reason that this wasn't noticed until the end of WWII was that kids used to get cracked on the knuckles for writing with their left hands and forced to switch to the right. I actually remember teachers trying to get me to write with my right and this was as late as 1968.

Emily's Big Accomplishment

She is parking in the driveway!

I had to take this picture at night so she wouldn't catch me blogging about her.

In the immortal words of Dr. Seuss, "This may not seem very important I know, but it is, so I'm bothering telling you so."

Emily and both of the other kids insisted on a manual transmission car when they were teens so that they would be forced to learn to drive it. She has finally gotten good enough at clutching to pull into our slanted driveway. For the past 4 months, she has been parking on the street to avoid the embarassment of stalling it on the driveway. She finally felt she had gotten good enough with her clutching skills to park in the driveway. I'm so proud.

She had the car for about 2 months when she said, "Mom, I really like this car."

"Well I'm glad you like it."

"I feel BAAAD driving it."

She cracks me up.



THANK-YOU, JOHN
For these beautiful flowers you sent me yesterday. They go perfect in the new pink office.

Two Funny Things

A STORY

I was reminded the other day of something my son had said when he was little, probably 5 or 6 years old. We were in the car, driving through a strip mall parking lot. We had to stop to allow a pedestrian to cross in front of us. It was a middle-aged man of Asian descent.

My son said, "Look mom, a Japanee."

I instructed, "No, honey, it's Japaneeeese...neeeese."

He corrected, "Nuh, uh, not when there's only one."

I do understand the logic.

A PICTURE

I am apologizing in advance for this photograph. I found in somewhere on the internet. I know it is very sophomoric of me, but I just couldn't help myself.

Nothing like good, old-fashioned fart humor to brighten your day.