Friday, August 13, 2010

Monkey What?

I bought a candle last weekend, which is not an unusual occurrence for me. I love candles. This is the first time I've ever bought a candle with this particular scent, however. One look at the candle and I could not resist. It was definitely original, and the scent was. . .um, different--not bad different, just different.
The scent?
Monkey Farts.
Yep, you read that right. I'm saving it to use as a prank gift at Christmas (so if you're related to me, watch out. . .). I didn't realize monkeys were indigenous to Mississippi. . .Did you?

Thursday, August 12, 2010

The NEW Crocodile Hunter

Kev knows no fear. The man loves adrenaline. He gladly tries any new adventure. Learning to ski as an adult? Done it. Hunt mysterious animals in the middle of nowhere? Repeatedly. Try the world's largest roller coaster? Sure, let's do it again. . .

Luckily for Kev, our little man, Kyler, is also quite the adventurer. He's tough as can be and loves trying new things. I have to constantly tell him not to run his horse, because fast is the only speed that boy knows. He kinda reminds me of Hammy on caffeine from Over the Hedge--remember that scene?

And then we had a girl. Kev worried and fretted about what this would mean. He has no sisters. He had no idea what to do with a girl. Tiaras and tea cups were foreign to my big, burly husband. Somewhere in that big jumble of chromosomes that is Kady, however, is the speed gene. Kady's first trip on the 4-wheeler ended with the words, "Go fast, Daddy, go fast!" This pink-loving, dress-wearing little girl is Kev's little adrenaline junky. (We went to a Japanese steak house this weekend. Her narrative of the events glossed over the FIRE, and instead, detailed our near-death driving experience and the fact that we drove SO FAST!!)

This morning, Lightning McKady was reminiscing. (Who knew 3-year-olds had so much to reminisce about. . .)

Mom, remember when you, me, Daddy, and Brother went in that little boat down the river?
Yep. That boat is called a canoe.
Well, it would have been more fun if there had been crocodiles.

Friday, August 6, 2010

and the award goes to. . .

We're in Mississippi--again!! We're on one last before-school-starts trip to see Kev. It was a very boring, uninspiring trip down here. . .until we were five minutes from our destination. That's when Kady decided she had to go to the bathroom and SHE COULD NOT WAIT. If you have kids, you know that when kid has to go, you better find a bathroom NOW. We stopped at the first gas station we came to, with Kady assuring me the entire time that she was JUST ABOUT TO GO--NOW!! We took one look at the bathroom, and I freaked. I've seen nasty, but this was radioactive. (Brief synopsis: unisex bathroom with visual filth, dirty mop and mop water in front of toilet, broken-long-ago soap dispenser and sink, mysterious cup sitting next to toilet, etc.) I immediately threatened my daughter within an inch of her life if she touched anything--including the sink. (I asked if she was sure she couldn't wait, and ever the optimist, she said, "um, maybe I can wait," as she danced in place. . .) I held her over the toilet and we did the "hover pee" maneuver that many of us perfected back when gas stations had outside bathrooms with keys the size of a yardstick that you had to go inside and ask for(remember those?). We then found anything we could thing of to try to sanitize our hands, e.g., Germ-X, saniwipes, bleach, mysterious acid found in car. . .The wait is on to see if we caught something contagious. . .If you need to know where the nastiest bathroom in America is, I can show you--well, at least tell you. I'm not ever going back there!

Monday, August 2, 2010

Mickey Mouse, a Dream, and a Rebel Named Nutt

Alternately Titled: I've ruined her geography skills for life or Squashing a Dream
Some people give birth to children that have MAD geography SkILz. I do not. Sure, my daughter can find her way around the small town of Paradise, but then, if you can walk in a straight line, so can you. The problem became apparent when Kev began talking about a job in Florida, you know, where the mouse with big ears and the princess in a shiny palace live. Ssssooooo, like so many insane parents out there, we tentatively began (possibly) planning a summer getaway to Disney World.
Alas, the job in Florida was not to be. Instead, Kev wound up in Mississippi--still hot, still a Southern state, but not quite the same. Kady, however, became completely confused. This confusion grew as our impending travel date to Mississippi grew closer. Somehow, my attempts to ease this confusion made it worse. Our conversations went something like this.

Kady: I want to go to Mickey-ippi.

Me: We ARE, but we're not going to Disney World.

Kady: Uh-huh. I want to go to Mickey-ippi AND go to MICKEY'S HOUSE.
(At which time, she would become so excited that all rationalization was lost.)

Thus, I fear her attitude towards Mississippi shall forever be biased. . .although on the plus side, this could insure that I NEVER, EVER have to cheer for this man again. . .

Thank you, Mickey-ippi, thank YOU.