Out of the Mouth of Babes

So, Jack has been in this verbal stage where he's been having to name EVERYTHING.

Doesn't matter what it is, he has to point at it and tell us what it is. This goes w/ people, too.

Our friend Joe comes over quite often to hang out and play poker. Everytime he comes over, he brings a 6 or 12 pack of beer.

Unfortunately, Jack has picked up on this, and now refuses to call Joe by his name. He is now known as "Beer."

As in, Jack will look around the room, point at us, and be all "Mom....Dad....Nana..........Beer."

Most. Hysterical. Thing. EVER!!

Giggle Freak

Jack Discovering Balloons.

Diamonds are a Girl's...uh...Bikers? Best Friend?

I've been such a slacker about writing.I've been busy with work, and Martin has taken over my computer playing "Oblivion", which I stupidly bought for myself, but then realized how much I HATE moving w/ a mouse and keyboard, and much rather like the Xbox controls. (And yes, I know you can buy controllers for your computer, but we can't get it to work right w/ Oblivion....it won't change direction...you still have to move the mouse to swivel. If anyone knows how to FIX that, then PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE let me know!!)

Anyhow, point is, I haven't had a lot to write about. I've been a picture taking fool, but I've been posting those to Flickr.

So, I got to thinking....I should probably share stories of funny things that happened to me in the past. I've had a LOT of those!So, here's a good one from Colorado.....

I used to work grocery, and I worked in the Deli at a place called "City Market" in Durango, Co.

Now it was more than your typical deli....we actually cooked. I mean, we had the normal packaged deli stuff, and the deep fried stuff, and the meats...but, we actually got up at the butt crack of dawn, and cooked breakfast from scratch to put in the hot case.

Now, this involved working a 4am-1pm shift. It was a 24 hour store, so the crazies usually were in there around that time in the morning.

Now Durango has a big Harley Biker event called the Iron Horse Rally....where thousands of Harley'd men and women invade the town, and do this giant bike rally through the mountains. It's really impressive. However, with that come a lot of the Harley FREAKS. Now....don't get me wrong...I adore most bikers. However, there are exceptions to every rule.

I remember one day, working in the deli, and I hear my friend, Josh, say something to the effect of "Holy Mother of....." and I turned around to see what he was talking about.

Yeah.

Woman.

In chaps. And a bikini top. And a g-string.

Did I mention chaps?

It was....interesting. Every guy in the store had to hide behind waist height things for a few minutes, tho'.

Anyhow, one morning I dragged myself out of bed for the 4am shift, and entered a fairly deserted store. I rounded the corner to walk through the paper aisle to get to the deli, and nearly ran into this giaganto, majorly hairy biker dude.

Seriously.

Robin Williams hairy.

And he was pretty hefty, as well. Which is all well and fine, and expected in your average biker.

However, what set him apart from the crowd was that he was dressed in a silk, pink floral mini sundress.

Yes, you read that right.

Silk.

Sundress.

Floral.

Hairy.

Now, at 4am, you don't really react well to unexpected situations like that. I'm really lucky I didn't get beat to a pulp by a hairy biker in drag.

But, perhaps he didn't want to break a nail?

Horror Show

We had nice weather this weekend, and Martin decided to go out and mow the lawn on Sunday afternoon.

He was outside for a while, happily mowing away in the backyard, and I was inside, puttering around the house.

Suddenly, I see him run up to the slider, and start doing a little dance, shedding clothes. Now this wasn't a "Hey, baby...watch me take off my clothes" type of dance. It was more of a "OH HOLY HELL!! CLOTHES OFF NOW. NOW! NOW!!" type of dance.

I watched, bemused, for a few seconds, then he opened up the slider, and rushed inside, still shedding clothes out the back door, emitting a series of "EE EE EEEE!" sounds.

I said something to the effect of "What. The. F#&%?!" and he responded with "Sss....Sp.....SPIDERRRRSS!!"

"What the heck? You're not afraid of spiders."

"I'm not afraid of A spider. I am, however, a little panicked when surrounded by enough spiders to EAT ME WHOLE!"

So, apparently, he was happily mowing away by the side of the house/garage, when he happened to glance at the concrete walkway between the grass and the side of the garage. It is normally grey concrete. When he glanced at it, it was black. Wondering why it had changed color, he went in for a closer look. It was now black because it was COVERED W/ THOUSANDS OF BLACK SPIDERS!!!

I remained skeptical that there could be THAT many spiders, and went out to investigate.

Me.

Who has a spider phobia.

In flip-flops.

So, we go out the front door, and around to the side gate, and I look at the walkway, which is the normal grey cement I was used to.

Martin shuddered and said they all ran out from the grass because he was mowing right there. In fact, the mower was still there, a victim abandoned to the spider hoardes.

I remained unconvinced, and walked down the walkway to peer closer into the grass. The grass which was....moving....Martin, in an attempt to convince me, decided to jump out into the grass to flush some of the spiders onto the pathway.

Sure enough, a good fair amount of them came zipping onto the pavement, and then back into the grass. Nasty, black, fast spiders.And the grass was still.....moving.....on it's "own".

Yeah, me and my flip-flops retreated onto the safety of the driveway, w/ Martin close behind, dragging the mower away from certain death.

So, it appears I need to pesticide the hell out of my side yard. Because I sure as hell am not letting my kids out there to play amongst the army of black nasties.

*Shudder*