Tadpole in the Mail

Apparently somebody thought we needed more pets. Because when I went out to get the mail today, I found a tadpole in a test tube sitting in my mail box.

Okay, so maybe I should back this story up a bit.  Last July, my father-in-law took my son to Gander Mountain to select a birthday present.  I figured that would be a good place to get something useful, like camping or fishing gear.  Well, when the boy and the old man came home, they did not have anything that looked like camping or fishing gear.  They had a frog habitat.  You know - one of those things  where you send for a tadpole and then you watch it grow up to be a nice little frog.

"Seriously?"  I said when I saw it.  "We already have a frog."

"That's what he wanted," said Grandpa.

I shook my head.  Thanks a lot, Grandpa.

So we sent the request for the tadpole.  It usually comes within a month.  Not this one.  We got a nice message that they were out of stock.  So their frogs had to get busy to make more.

Fine.

Fall came.  Winter came.  No tadpole.  I was secretly pleased.  I figured they had lost the order, and no tadpole would be arriving at our abode.

Well, they didn't forget.  We now have a nice leopard frog tadpole sitting in a mini-swamp next to the African clawed frog and hermit crabs.  His name is Speedy.

Okay, everybody. Listen up.  I do not want any more pets!  So don't even think about sending me another tadpole in a test tube!

Leg Art

After I finished teaching violin lessons, I walked into the kitchen.  My ten-year-old daughter was standing there.  I looked down.  Her legs were completely covered in marker drawings.  It looked like she had visited some sort of tatoo parlor.

"What the heck did you do?"  I asked, dumbfounded.

"I was bored," she replied.

"And you couldn't find something a little more constructive to do?"

"No."

I looked at the drawings.  They were actually pretty good.  Even her feet and toes were covered.  "Well, young lady," I said.  "Your artwork is very nice.   But next time, do it on paper."  Then I added, "I certainly hope that stuff is washable."

"It is," she said.  "I knew you wouldn't let me walk around long like this, so I used washable marker."

Well, I'm glad she at least had the good sense to think ahead.  If it were my son, I'm sure he'd be markered up for the rest of his life!

Fake Nail Job

"Mama, can I please go to Walgreens and get fake nails?"  my ten-year-old daughter asked.

"Why?" I asked.  "Those things ruin your nails."

"All my friends have them."

I looked at her.  "Well, you shouldn't get them because all your friends have them."

"But they're so pretty.  Can I please try them?"

I thought about that for a second.  "Okay.  We'll get you some fake nails so you can see what they're like."

We made a little trip to Walgreens.  She picked a fancy sparkly set.  Then we came home and she put them on.

"These things are awful!" she said. "They hurt, and I can't even pull up my pants!"

I nodded.  "And you'll probably have a little trouble playing in the woods and petting your dog."

She sat down and watched TV for a little while.  Fifteen minutes later she was in the bathroom taking off the nails.

"These are the worst things ever!  I'm not wearing fake nails ever again!" she announced.

Seven dollars well-spent.

Lucky 7 Meme Award

  Something a little different today:  I just received another award.  This one is from Peaches at Conceive Writing.  Thanks, Peaches!  This award is for writers, and it's a chance to showcase your latest manuscript.  So today, you won't learn something new about me, but you will get to read an excerpt from a children's book I'm working on. 

Lucky 7 Meme Award Rules

1.  Go to page 77 of your current manuscript.

2. Go to line 7.

3. Copy the next 7 lines (sentences or paragraphs) and post them as they're written.  No cheating!

4.  Tag 7 other writers to pass this meme on to.

Manuscript Excerpt ( I don't have 77 pages in my manuscript, so this is from page 7 of  Bubba and Squirt's Big Hole to China.)

Then I looked at Squirt, because I wanted to show her my good job. But Miss Lazy Bones was staring up at the sky. So I gave her a little something to attract her attention. Except she didn’t much like it. Because when my dirt ball hit her on the head, she said, “Hey, watch it!” real angry-like.

       “Oops,” I said. “Sorry about that.” I was. Really. Because I wanted that thing to go splat in her lap.

       She sat up and inspected my good job. “Not bad, digger dude.”

       “Want to help?” I asked.

       “Not really.”

7 Other Writers

1. Christine Rains

2. Susanne Drazic

3. Tonja

4. Rena

5.Billy Burgess at  Ramblings of a Coffee Addicted Writer

6.  Medeia Sharif

7. Stacey Jensen


I hope you have a chance to visit these fine writers.  Thanks again, Peaches!

Sillies at Suppertime

I don't know what got into my kids, but the minute they stepped off that school bus, it was nothing but silliness.  The giggles and stupid behavior continued at dinner time.

"Dude," I said to my son, who was piling ziti noodles on his head.  "What exactly are you doing?'

"I'm a noodle head!"

"Yeah you are.  Now kindly remove the noodles from your hair."

He obliged.  Two seconds later, he was up to more mischief.

He speared a matzah ball from his soup with a straw.  The things were a little dense (don't blame me - my husband made them this time.), so they didn't fall apart.  Next thing I knew, my son had a matzah ball microphone.

"Bubba," I said, as he belted out a song.  "We're not doing karaoke at the dinner table.  Disassemble the microphone." 

He didn't disassemble it, but he ate it.  So I guess that was good enough.

Meanwhile, my daughter was laughing so hard, she was snorting soup out of her nose.

What the heck?  Have my children not learned anything about good table manners?

Versatile Blogger Award (Again!)

I've been nominated again for the Versatile Blogger Award!  Whoo Hoo!  Actually, I've been nominated by two people:  Dawn, at Since You Asked, and Shay at Seriously - WTH.  Thanks Dawn and Shay!  Be sure to check out their blogs!

Okay, so what I'm supposed to do is share 7 random pieces of information about myself.  I'll give you eight since I've been nominated twice.  (Yeah, I should probably do fourteen, but I'm being lazy.) Then I'm supposed to nominate fifteen other people. But since this is my fourth nomination for this award, I'm just going to say, if you want it, go ahead and nominate yourself.   You can find the rules on Shay or Dawn's blog, or you can see mine from about a month ago.

So here we go, again.  8 Random Pieces of Information About Myself

1. I've lived through 3 hurricanes, 1 tornado, and numerous blizzards.

2. When I was a kid, I used to ride dirt bikes in the woods and play football.

3. My favorite place to SCUBA dive is Cozumel.

4. I would like to visit Marrakesh.  I don't know why.  It just sounds cool.

5. I understand five languages.  I can't say I'm great at speaking all of them, though.

6. I still like to jump on pogo sticks.  My kids have a couple, so I borrow theirs.

7. I enjoy hiking. ( My family complains about some of the death marches I take them on.)

8. An interesting memory:  Playing my viola in the middle of the Black Forest in Germany when it was almost dark.  My friend and I were a little lost, and we thought our music would scare away the wild boars.  (It worked.)

Why You Should Wash Your Hands

My seven-year-old son is learning all about personal hygiene in school.  I personally think the extra reinforcement is good for him.  He's a bonified slob!

Anyway, he had a test on the subject.

He knew why you should brush your teeth.  He knew why you should eat a healthy diet.  But he seemed to have a little trouble on why you should wash your hands.

In sloppy print, he wrote:  Because mice have rabies.

I'm sure the teacher thought that was a great reason to wash your hands!

Bigfoot Trap

You may remember a few weeks ago,  my seven-year-old son was howling on our front porch.  The reason?  To attract a Yeti.  Now he's trying to trap one.

Only, he didn't trap a Yeti.  He trapped my daughter.  She came into the house completely covered in mud.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I fell into a Bigfoot trap."

"Huh?"

"Bubba and his buddy made a slippery mud slope on the bank of the creek.  Any Bigfoot that comes too close is doomed."

I looked at her muddy clothes.  "Yeah. I see that. I know you have a size 9 shoe, but I don't think you're Bigfoot.  So stay away from that thing."

She nodded and went off to clean herself up.

I'll keep you updated as to whether or not this trap works for any real resident Bigfoots.

Vomit Comet

I knew it was going to be a good day when I took my dog out to go potty this morning and he wanted to eat grass.

"Schultz, don't do that!  You're going to vomit!"  Two seconds later, the dog's tummy rumbled.  He heaved a giant heave, and white slime came out of his mouth.

I groaned.  "Told you."

I led him away from that mess and waited for him to do his business.  "Come on, Schultz!"

So what did he do?  Ate more grass of course.  "What are you, stupid?"  In response he vomitted again.

Obviously he was a little sick.

He lay around pretty much all morning.  Things changed when he spotted some paper towels I was using to clean the windows.  He decided those would be just what he needed to fix his little tummy problem.  So he ate a few.

Problem solved.  No more vomitting, and he was back to normal for the rest of the day.

Junior Politician

All of this election business has sparked some political conversations amongst my children and other neighborhood kids.

"I want to be President," one little boy said.

"Why?"  my daughter asked. 

"Because it's cool."

"I'll be Vice President," my daughter said.  "Because then I'll be President if something happens to you."  Then she added, "I want to make America a better place, too."

Well that's nice.

Then my son got in on the conversation.  "I want to be Speaker of the House.  Because then I'll be President if something happens to you and you.  And I'll make $8,000 a week." 

That's what I call thinking like a politician!

Don't Eat the Salmon!

Today I thought I'd make a nice salmon with dijon sauce.  I gathered the ingredients and started mixing. Except I ran out of mustard.  I looked through the refrigerator and found another jar.  I added that to the mix and spooned the stuff over the salmon.

Then my nose kicked into action.  This stuff doesn't smell quite right, I thought.  Then I tried a bit from the spoon.  Oh my gosh!  This stuff is awful!  I wondered what the heck could be wrong.  That's when I decided to check the expiration date on the mustard jar.

That was the problem.  It expired six months ago.  So I washed off the salmon and seasoned it with something else so my family wouldn't die.

So ladies and gentlemen, if I suddenly stop blogging, you'll know I died from mustard poisoning.

More Pets?

It's bad enough we have a menagerie of pets living inside our house.  Now my kids have started a collection outside.  They informed me that they now have pets for their outdoor club. 

"What kind of pets?" I asked.

"Oh, a couple of frogs.  And a snake."

"What?"  I had to inspect this.  What I found was an aquarium filled with water and two frogs:  one on top of the other  (and you know what that means).  I also found a bucket with a two foot long snake inside. 

"Okay, guys.  You have to let these creatures go.  And what's with the snake?  Haven't I told you to leave snakes alone?" 

Right on cue, one of the neighborhood boys pulled the snake out of the bucket.  "But he's a queen snake.  He's not poisoness."

I shook my head.  "Release the snake."

"But can we keep the frogs?"

"For a couple of days, only if you feed them."

"Mama, next time you go to the pet store, can you buy crickets?"

Oy gewalt!        

Versatile Blogger

Guess what? I've been nominated twice for the Versatile Blogger Award!  This time by Charlie Warren from The Semi-retired Gamer.  Thanks, Charlie!  I feel so versatile now.

So here's what I'm going to do.  I'm going to share seven more random pieces of information about myself.  Technically, I'm supposed to nominate 15 more bloggers for the award, but since I've already done that, I'm going to say, if anyone out there would like the Versatile Blogger Award, go ahead and nominate yourself, and see Charlie's post for the rules. (Or you can see my post from a couple weeks back.)



7 More Random Things about Me:

1. I do not like brussels sprouts or sauerkraut.

2. I don't drink coffee. (I've gotten quite a few weird looks for that one - especially from people in Europe.)

3. I used to be a figure skater. (I had dreams of going to the Olympics, but obviously that never happened.)

4. I've never been able to figure out how to blow bubbles with gum. (What the heck is wrong with me?)

5. My favorite movie is The Red Violin.

6. I write out all of my book manuscripts by hand with a pencil and a notebook.  Crazy, huh?

7. Watermelon is my favorite food.



Now aren't you all just thrilled to know these things about me?

First Wrinkle

No.  I'm not talking about my first wrinkle.  I got one of those a long time ago.  I'm talking about my ten-year-old daughter's first wrinkle. 

"Mama!"  she cried this morning.  "I have a wrinkle."

"Seriously?" I said.  "You're ten years old.  How could you possibly have a wrinkle?"

She scrunched up her forehead.  "Look!" she said.

"Well, of course you're going to have wrinkles when you scrunch up your forehead," I said, hardly surprised.

Then she stopped scrunching.  "Look again," she said.

The wrinkles were there, barely detectable, but still present.

"Uh oh," I said.  "Better get some Oil of Olay on that!"

She ran up and plastered her face with that stuff.

I guess I better go find her a bottle of Miss Clairol.  Gray hairs will be next!

Catching Leprechauns

"Mama," my seven-year-old son said.  "I'm going to go catch a leprechaun."

"Oh yeah?' I asked.  "With what?"

"With a butterfly net."

Of course.

"Where are you going to find a leprechaun?"  I asked.

"In the woods.  I know there's one back there."

"Is that so?" I said. 

"Yep.  Finding a pot of gold would be good too, wouldn't it?"

"Definitely!"

So now my boy is out there trying to catch a leprechaun with a butterfly net.  I'm going to go join him, because finding a pot of gold sounds like a real good thing.

Happy Saint Patrick's Day!  

More Mud

I seriously think it needs to stop raining here in Cincinnati.  The backyard is a total mud pit.  And of course my kids love playing in it.

Once again, they came in covered from head to toe.  "Guys," I said.  "Can you stay out of the mud?"

"But it's fun!"

Apparently all of the other neighborhood kids think it's fun, too.  They showed up on my front porch with mud splattered up their legs.

I got out the dish washing bins.  I filled those things up with water.  Then I lined them up on the porch.  "Okay, kids," I said.  "Wash up!"

They did.  And when they were done, I had eight bins of brown water.

Now for the dog...  

Belly Flopping in the Mud

My kids were playing outside yesterday while I was teaching piano lessons.  I figured they couldn't get in too much trouble out in the woods.  Boy, was I wrong. 

"Mama," my daughter said as she stood in the front hall after coming inside.

"Don't interrupt," I said, not looking up.

"Mama, look," she insisted.

I looked.  That girl was covered from head to toe in mud.  "What the heck did you do?' I asked, hardly believing what I saw.

"I took a belly flop in the creek."

"What in the world possessed you to do that?"

"It's eighty degrees outside, and it looked like something fun to do."

Two seconds later, my son came in.  And yes, he too was covered in mud.

"Belly flop in the mud?' I asked.

He nodded.

"All right, kids.  You need to hose yourselves off before you track that filth into the house."

So they got out the hose and de-mudified themselves.  (Of course that involved a lot of chaos and mayhem.)

I swear, sometimes I think my kids are worse than the dog!

Garden Helper

These last few days I've been outside weeding in my gardens.  It's surprising how quickly a little sunshine and heat can make weeds sprout.  My big old German Shepherd likes to help.  Mostly by getting in the way.

Today he actually made himself useful.  I had been trying to get out a stubborn Locust tree root.  It was embedded in my vegetable garden, and for the life of me I could not pull it up.  I used all of my weight on that thing.  Schultz saw me struggling, so he decided to help.

"Go on, boy," I said.  "Pull that thing out."

He went nuts on that root.  He tugged and thrashed until the thing was in shreds.  I'm not sure if he got it out, but I'm pretty sure that it won't be springing back to life any time soon.

"Thanks, Schultz!"  I said. 

He wagged his tail.  I gave him a treat.  Turns out the hundred pound varmint is useful, after all!

Heaven

Every now and then, my seven-year-old son gets a little philosophical.  Tonight's philosophical discussion involved the nature of heaven.

"Mama, when we go to heaven, will we be in an adult form, or a kid form?"

Um.  I hadn't ever thought about that.  "I really don't know," I said. 

"I think we should all be kids."

"Why is that?" I asked.

"Because it's fun to play all day.  Being a kid is the best thing that's ever happened in my life."

Now wouldn't that be fun?  Heaven - the place of no work.  Just play.  I kind of like the sound of that!

(By the way, Buster the stray dog is home.  My neighbors found the owner.  Yay for Buster!)

Stray Dog

I don't know what it is about the neighborhood I live in, but we're always finding stray creatures.  Yesterday's creature was a stray English Pointer dog.  He was sniffing around, hunting down squirrels when we saw him.  He still had his electric fence collar on, so he obviously busted out of somewhere.

I lured the dog over with a treat.  Then I inspected his tag.  It was a rabies tag.  There was nothing about his name, or his owner.  Of course the vet office was closed, so calling the vet didn't help. 

"All right," I said. as I attached a leash. "Let's see if this creature can find his way home."

My kids, a couple of neighborhood kids, and I went over the river and through the woods to see if we could find this dog's home.  After searching for an hour, and knocking on doors, it was apparent that we weren't going to find his home.  Buster the dog was more interested in sniffing bushes and spotting squirrels.

So we brought him back home.  It was getting dark, so we figured we hold onto him until the next day and then call the vet. 

Well, Buster didn't want to stay outside.  He wanted to come in.  I think he saw Schultz and wanted to play.  So Buster barked and pawed at the back sliding doors and whined.

"That dog isn't staying here," my husband said.  "He needs to find his way home. Release him."

I wasn't so sure that was a good idea.  But we released him.

The dog didn't want to leave.  He wanted to stay right by my side.  So there he was following me like a puppy as I took the garbage to the curb.

"You goofball," I said.  "What am I going to do with you?"

Fortunately, my good hearted neighbor came to the rescue.  "I'll keep him in my yard," he said.

Great.  I don't know how that worked out for them, especially since they have a big old Husky.  But hopefully Buster is home.  I'll let you know when I find out.

Magic Man

I took my son to a magic show at the school today.  He thinks magic is pretty cool.  He was mesmerized by all the tricks.  Naturally, when the show was over, he had a few tricks of his own.

"Mama," he said.  "I'm going to make this popcorn bag disappear.  Close your eyes."

Wait a minute, I thought.  The magician on the stage didn't make me close my eyes.  Nevertheless, I closed my eyes.

"You can open them, now," he said.

I opened them.  Sure enough the bag was gone.

"I'm going to make it reaappear," he announced.

He spun around four times and reached down into his coat.  "Ta-dah!" he said, revealing the crumpled popcorn bag.

Wow.  Amazing.
  

Barbarians in the Bathroom

I swear, I live with a bunch of barbarians!  Do you remember when I told you about my son and his secret in the toilet?  Well, he deposited another one of those today.  Except this time, the dog found it first.

"Mama," my son said.  "I think you better check the bathroom."

I checked.  I couldn't believe what I saw.  My dog had his head in the toilet, slurping away.  And it wasn't just ordinary toilet water.  The big old "hippo" was in there, too!"

"Schultz!" I bellowed.  "Get out of the toilet, you stinkin' varmint!"

This thing, of course, required shovel removal.  So there I was, removing the "hippo," trying to keep my beast's head away from it, and out of the toilet.

Argh!  Seriously? Why me?

Eeny Meeny Miney Mo

It's official.  Both of my kids have inherited my defective eyesight.  My seven-year-old son was complaining that things looked a little blurry.  I figured it was time to get checked.  Sure enough, the little guy was in need of some correction.

"Mama, do I get to pick out a pair of glasses?"

"Yep."

"Cool!"

Well, I'm glad he was so excited about it.

He went over to the children's section and inspected his choices.

"Hmmm," he said scrunching up his eybrows. "I don't know which I should choose."

He decided to play a game of eeny meeny miney mo.  After an exceedingly long version of the game, his finger landed on a pair of stylish Nike glasses.  "Yay!" he said.  "That's the pair I wanted anyway.  I didn't like the other ones."

Well now, I'm so glad eeney meeny miney mo saved the day! 

Frisbee Dog

Aren't dogs supposed to, like, catch frisbees and return them to the thrower?  Our German Shepherd apparently hasn't received the memo on that.

My daughter thought she'd play a nice game of frisbee with our year-and-a -half  old beast. 

"Schultz, catch!"  She whipped the frisbee into the air.  Schultz watched .  Then he sprang into action. 

So far so good.

But then he messed up.  He decided that the frisbee must be a great neon yellow chew toy.  He plopped his big hundred pound body on top of it and proceeded to chew away.

"Schultz!  That's not what you're supposed to do!"  My daughter ran over and grabbed the slobbery chewed up thing from him.  "Let's try again."

She threw the frisbee.  He chased.  He pounced.  He chewed.

By the time he was done with that frisbee, it was reduced to a few scraps of plastic.

What a knucklehead! 

Master Chef

"Mama," my ten-year-old daughter said.  "Can you teach my friend and me how to make chicken soup?"

They already had the celery, carrots, and cutting board out. 

"Uh, okay."  I wasn't quite sure what inspired chicken soup, but since it was a healthy dish, I thought I'd educate them on the process.  I told them what to do and supervised them as they did it.

A short while later, a delicious pot of soup simmered on the stove.

Not wanting to be outdone, my seven-year-old son got in on the act.  "I'm going to make something, too!"

He rummaged around and found an assortment of things.  "Ta-dah!" he said as he showed me his creation.  On the plate was a Samoa girl scout cookie, three ice cubes, and two dog biscuits.

What a genious.  A meal fit for a king (and his best friend - a dog named Schultz)!  

Dog With a Crown

A couple of days ago, my daughter went to the mall to participate in one of those model search pageants.  She didn't win, but she was a finalist, so she got a cute crown and a trophy.

I don't know what she was thinking, but she decided that our hundred pound male German Shepherd would look just fabulous with a sparkly gemstone crown.  She affixed it to his head.  (I seriously can't believe he let her do it.)

"Mama, look!  Schultz is the winner!"

He cocked his head. 

"Yeah," I said.  "There he is - Dog America!"

Maybe there's a future for him in modeling.  He'd look good on the cover of Seventeen Magazine!

Party On!

My son was invited to one of his buddy's birthday party.  Since he lives nearby, we sent our boy off to walk to the party. "Come home as soon as it's done," my husband and I instructed.

Meanwhile, I had to take my daughter somewhere.  On our way out the door, I reminded my husband of when the party would be over.  "Uh, huh," he answered as he plunked away on the computer. "He can walk home."

I had a feeling this would be interesting.

When my daughter and I returned, it was late.  My son was home, grinning ear to ear.

"Did you have fun at the party?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said.  "Guess how long I was there?"

Uh oh.  "Um, how long?"

"Five hours!"

"Seriously?  You were there five hours?"

"Yeah.  Everybody was!"

Oh my gosh.  That poor mom!  A house full of seven and eight year old boys for five hours!  All I can say, is better her than me!  (I found out she didn't mind.  It was like a giant playdate.  Thank God! I was feeling pretty bad about it!)  

The Versatile Blogger Award for Some A-Z Blogs

I am so excited!  This is the first blogging award I've ever received. Thanks to pbquig from Pirate Knitting for giving me this award!

I will be nominating 15 other fine bloggers for this award.  Here are the instructions if you receive it:

1. Nominate 15 fellow bloggers for the Versatile Blogger Award.

2. In the same post, add the Versatile Blogger Award.

3. In the same post, thank the blogger who nominated you in a post with a link back to their blog.

4. In the same post, share 7 completely random pieces of information about yourself.

5. In the same post, include this set of rules.

6. Inform each nominated blogger of their nomination by posting a comment on each of their blogs.



7 Random Things About Me:

1. I used to be a PADI Scuba diving instructor.

2. I have performed as a solo violist in France and Germany.

3. My favorite color is red.

4. I love dark chocolate!

5. I've moved fourteen times in my life.

6. Skydiving is on my bucket list.

7. I enjoy learning languages.




And now for the 15 people.   (I found these bloggers from the list of people signed up for the A-Z challenge coming up this April.  Please check them out, and consider signing your blog up for this fun challenge.)

1. From Sarah With Joy

2. Welcome to Me

3. Amybeads

4. Yet Another Blog About Life

5. Lucy Adams

6. Cat

7. Rob and Lisa

8. Angies Home Cooking

9. Suzi Fischer

10. M. Hufstader

11. Tasha Seegmiller

12. Suzanna Banana

13. Alyssa

14. Andrea Coventry

15. Anglers Rest

To post on your blog, save the award picture, go to your dashboard, click on your blog, go to your layout, add gadget, scroll down until you find the one that says, "picture," then just upload the picture, write a title, and a caption (maybe thank the person who gave you the award).  And you're done.  (Whew! ) 

Tin Foil Hats

I don't know what my husband was thinking, but he came up with the brilliant idea of fabricating tin foil hats.  He sat in his office concocting one of these things.  Then he placed it on his head.  My kids, of course, thought this was great.

"Oh, Daddy!  Can you make one for us?" 

"You just take some foil and wrap it around to make the hat.  Go ahead.  Make it yourselves."

Typical Daddy answer.

So my kids went in the kitchen and pulled out a roll of aluminum foil.  They went to town. 

While they were doing this, I was busy teaching violin lessons.  As I demonstrated the Mozart A Major violin concerto for my student, my daughter came in and placed a shiny tin foil hat on my head.  I kept playing.  My student looked at me funny.

"What, you've never seen anyone play a Mozart concerto with a tin hat on?'

The student giggled and shook her head.

I kept my hat on for the rest of the lessons.  Parents looked at me like I was nuts.  Yeah, I guess I am. Obviously it runs in the family!

(By the way, we are the proud owners of four tin foil hats.  I think we should start a business!)

Drilling the Driveway

Today, we had a little repair work done on the driveway.  A couple of the concrete slabs had settled unevenly, so instead of getting a new driveway, we called the driveway jackers.  They drill a hole through the slab and inject concrete, "floating" the slab until it is level.

Anyway, my son saw the workers drilling with their jackhammers.

"Hey," he said.  "What are they doing?"

"Fixing the driveway."

He looked at me kind of funny, because it didn't seem that they were fixing the driveway at all.  I explained the process.  Satisfied, he went off to do whatever he does.

Later, after the workers had left, I found my little guy on the driveway with his toy jack hammer.

"Dude," I said.  "What are you doing?"

"They missed a spot."