Well, that might be overstating my point, but
I taught math to sixth graders. Trust me when I say it helps to foster a sense of humor.
And sometimes a joke will spark an understanding, an aha! moment,
not to mention a shared experience. Never underestimate the power of shared laughter as a teaching tool,
because some students latch on to the offbeat as a way to store information that otherwise would pass right over their heads.
Studly Doright shot even par today. Apparently that’s a big deal.
I took two naps today, surely that trumps anything that happened on the golf course.
Peace, people.
A friend shared this on Facebook and tagged me in the post.
So far, no demons have been summoned in my cooking adventures, but just in case, I won’t be cooking anything from scratch.
Peace, people!
We’re rockers, me and the band
We play hard, driving drums
Screaming guitar, sexy bass
Boom, boom, thrum, mmmm, thrum
Straight through your heart and
Down into your soul, bypassing
The brain; no need for control.
We’re hard core, me and the band
Tight jeans and black tank tops
“Prayin’ for Eyebrowz” emblazoned
On the front; tour dates printed
On the back. Coming soon to a
Venue near you, groupies lined up
For autographs and souvenirs.
We’re imaginary, me and the band
Rockin’ in our minds, or at least
In my mind. My drums, my vocals,
My screaming Les Paul. A one-woman
Show straight from my brain to
Your Facebook feed: Boom, boom,
Thrum, mmmmm, oh baby, thrum!
peace, people!
My cats were glad to see me when I arrived home Tuesday afternoon after a week on the road. Studly Doright was, too. I could tell by the way he purred when I rubbed between his ears.
Today has been devoted to laundry. It could’ve been much worse, but Studly took it upon himself to do his own. I did a happy double take when he told me that he’d successfully pushed the appropriate buttons on both washer and dryer. He even took the time to learn how to properly use the Tide pods that I’m so fond of.
Studly has always claimed he didn’t know how to do the laundry. Now, this is the man who taught me the difference between a two-stroke engine and a four-stroke. He’s the same one who made sure I knew how to check my own oil and to change a tire. And yet somehow laundry mystified him until this past week.
Well played Studly. Well played.
Peace, people!
He’s really good with the grandbabies, too. No instructions necessary.
Peace, people!
I’m operating my blog on cruise control right now. My trip to Illinois cut into my writing time, so this is what my readers get today.
I’d love to get your happiest four word stories in my comments box. Mine would be “They danced every day.” What’s yours? 
Peace, people!
What a delicious song this is!http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=dHU71EsH0dU
After spending one day with a twelve year old grandson and another day with a ten year old granddaughter how hard could it be to hang out for an hour with a three year old? At Walmart? In the toy section?
It was an hour of bargaining and logic.
Me: Harper, I need to go to Walmart to buy cat litter and milk.
Harper: And toys Nana?
Me: Nope; just milk and cat litter (at this point both the older siblings elected to stay home).
Harper: OK, Nana.
In the car:
Harper: Nana, play Uptown Funk.
Me: I don’t have Uptown Funk.
Harper: Yes, you do.
Me: No I don’t, but let’s see if we can find a radio station that’s playing Uptown Funk.
(Believe it or not it was playing on one of the first stations I tuned into on Sirius.)
Harper: See, Nana! I told you that you have Uptown Funk.
Me: Yes, you did. (Sigh)
At Walmart:
Harper: Can I get a toy Nana?
Me: You really don’t need a toy sweetie.
Harper: Can I just look at toys.
Me: Let’s put you in the shopping cart and go find the cat litter.
Harper: If I ride in the cart can I have a toy?
Me: (At this point I know I’m buying the kid a toy, but I’m not ready to concede just yet) Let’s find the things we need and we’ll talk about it.
Harper: (At this point the kid knows she’s getting a toy, but she plays it cool.) Ok, Nana!
We found the cat litter and were on our way to the dairy section when it occurred to me that it might take Harper more than a few minutes to pick out a toy and that it would be better to take care of that before going to buy milk.
When we got to the toy department I helped Harper out of the cart and she headed immediately to toys from the movie, Frozen, and found a package containing a Barbie-sized Elsa and Ana as well as Olaf, the snowman and Sven, the reindeer. Her eyes lit up.
Harper: Can I have this Nana? I won’t ever need any more toys!
Now, how could I resist that? Without complaining she let me put her back in the cart and we picked up milk and a few more goodies. The whole time Harper kept up a running commentary about her new toys.
Harper: Nana, do you think Sven can talk? I think Sven can talk because he’s a reindeer. Nana, what’s a reindeer? Is Olaf a real snowman? Do you like Elsa or Ana best? Will you play with my toys when we get home? Do you have scissors in your car because we need scissors to open this package. I think Sven can talk. Is he a real reindeer?
Me: Maybe I need some Advil.
Harper: Nana, do you need a band-aid?
Me: Maybe. Will a band-aid make my head stop hurting?
Harper: Yes, Nana.
In the car:
Harper: Play Uptown Funk.
At the Quad Cities Family Entertainment Center later that day:
Apparently band-aids help with headaches.
I let my 12 year old grandson help write my blog post for today. He picked out this meme:
I picked out this one:
Both are fitting for the start of my long journey home, because this
Is so very true.
It’s been such a fun week with the grandkids. We went bowling, played laser tag, and video games, feasted on junk foods, and acted out scenes from Frozen until I had ice shards shooting out of my nose.
My plan is to reach the southeast side of Nashville on Monday afternoon and maybe relax in the pool for a few minutes. A bit of relaxation might be in order after all the fun. I’ll miss these guys, but Studly Doright is ready to see me.
My middle grandchild, McKayla, and I drove all over the Quad Cities yesterday. We picked up her new glasses in Moline, Illinois, ate lunch and painted pottery in Bettendorf, Iowa, shopped for vintage (her word) stuff in Port Byron and Rapids City, Illinois, and enjoyed ice cream in Davenport, Iowa, I think. Thank goodness for GPS!
I was so confused by the time we returned home that I needed a nap. She on the other hand was energized with the prospect of decorating the interior of the vintage dollhouse we found at Birdie Lu’s in Rapids City.
Shopping with McKayla is an adventure. At ten, she knows exactly what she wants and already has a style of her own. Everywhere we went she received compliments on her hair or her dress or her jacket. I’m 58. I’m still trying to develop a signature style beyond jeans, a t-shirt, and flip flops. And compliments are few and far between.
At the same time, she still enjoys her Barbies and doll houses and pretend play. At least we have those things in common. We also share similar tastes in music; although, she actually knows all the words to the songs playing on the radio; whereas, I am reduced to humming and mumbling the lyrics.
I don’t embarrass her yet, even though I count that as an important part of Grandparenting. No matter how hard I tried I didn’t even rate an eye roll. Maybe I’ve lost the skill.
At the end of our expedition McKayla gave me a huge hug and thanked me for giving her an amazing day. It was pretty amazing to me, as well. It isn’t often that someone as clueless as I am has the chance to hang out with pure awesomeness.
Praying for Eyebrowz 