Its Me and George W.

Do you remember, oh, I dunno, maybe seven years ago or so., that time when George W. was still president and during a press conference a reporter threw a shoe at him?

I know how he feels. Sort of.

Of late, Chubalicious has decided to remove his shoes and socks whenever he is in the car. It started with a shoe then both, then the socks. And now, now, he chucks them at me while I am driving.

So there I am. minding my own business, trying to get him to school or wherever safely and BAM out of no where a sock flies into the front seat. Presently, I am grateful that its usually the socks but on occasion it is the shoes.

Now, unlike the disgruntled reporter in the George W. episode, Chubalicious does not seem to be at all upset. In fact when I ask him why he does this, he giggles like a madman. There are times, as well, when his aim is not so good and I go to get him out of the car seat only to realize he is barefoot. At these moments, when I ask where his socks are, he points to exactly where they landed (usually somewhere in the front console) and says, "Right there, Mama" like its the most natural thing in the world.

I am not offended by this at all although, sometimes, when I am in a hurry, it is quite annoying. I actually have begun to find the whole thing rather funny. And I am quite certain that on years to come, I will remember these moments endearingly or use them in some way to totally embarrass Chubalicious in front of his friends.

I have no idea how George W. remembers his incident.

Have a wonderful weekend, y'all!

Wordless Wednesday

Wordless Wednesday

"There is no truth. There is only perception."

So said Gustav Flaubert.

If you asked me to describe my husband, it would be quite different from the description the Notorious MRA gives in the video snippet. I am not sure if my husband is all that happy with the verbals, particularly the wrinkly skin part, but...  the picture part of it is rather nice.

Wordless Wednesday

Happy #4, Notorious MRA

Happy Birthday to my Notorious MRA,

Oh yes, MRA, you made four years old (which means your Daddy and I also have survived four  years of parenthood. (Don't think we didn't crack open a bottle of champagne over that little feat!)

You are definitely our child as you wanted to CELEBRATE! Probably for different reasons, though. In any event, celebrate we did - with a super-fun pirate themed birthday party.

 

 

 

The setting was perfect under the trees and on the beach. The weather was amazing! We did have to chase off a pack (seriously, a pack, like five or seven) of raccoons that were eyeing down our set up. But those raccoons were no match for our pirate crew.

 

 

It took some doing, but we got the place set up, and you were a perfect swashbuckelin' pirate - Captain Mad Dog MRA, they called you. Chubalicious, aka Rum Runner ASA, was a great sidekick... if not always the most attentive.



There was food and there was cake - you and your gangly crew couldn't keep your raggedy paws out of the cake (you get that from your father.)

 

 

You and your motley band of pirates were rather fearsome. I dare say that any ship full of popinjays sailing by our party who caught sight of you and your crew (or heard the screeching and wailing coming from shore) would nary a stepped foot on our little key.

 

 

 

Of course it helped to have some real pirates there to entertain you and your gang. They painted your faces, twisted balloons, provided magic and candy and treasure. You were so unbelievably happy.

 

 

 

And seeing you so happy made your Daddy and I unbelievably happy. Of course we were exceptionally happy when you and your brother went to bed at a reasonable hour that night, as well.

 

 

 

 

It was a very merry and happy day had by all. However, as fun as the pirates were, I would like you to consider perhaps taking five friends to a movie next year for your 5th birthday? Mama and Daddy will still have champagne! Yay or nay?