Thursday, June 12, 2003

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Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com

I haven't accomplished much lately, but I am well-rested.

The wife is teaching Vacation Bible School this week. In addition to getting things ready for the lessons she has to come up with play activities. This is her busiest week of the year. The theme this year is something-like-geography. Yesterday, it was Antarctica. For play time she brought a clothes basket full of rolled-up white socks. Yes, we do have a lot of white socks.

The class was divided in half, each side got half the room. The object was to throw socks/snowballs to the other side of the room. When the time was up whichever side had the most socks lost. The kids loved it. Sock/snowball fight! She'll probably do it again today. You go with a winner.

Last night she was catching up on this blog when Trainboy walked by. She yelled, "Hey come in here, we need a hug!" He backed up, held up his right index finger and said, "just a minute," and disappeared. True to his word, in about a minute he was back, with a toy VW hug-bug tucked under his arm like a football. Thus armed he was able to give us a hug. Gotta love him.

When the wife goes on a bike-ride Trainboy has a seat above the rear wheel. If they spot a VW he yells hug-bug! and leans forward to give her a hug. She'll tell him he can save the hug for later, but he can never wait. He leans as far as he can and gives whatever hug he can manage. It may just be a hand on her hip, but she gets her hug. No delayed gratification here. Ya gotta love him.

We had matzoh-ball soup for supper. Obviously, it wasn't Passover. It may be hard for the average goy to imagine, but our kids requested it. They just love it. Giggles did not have any, Giggles did not want to try it. Giggles does not eat chicken soup, or anything resembling chicken soup. Ms. Pikachu was only too happy to eat her share. Fortunately there was a pizza in the freezer, Giggles did not starve.

At such times it's not surprising my mother nearly went nuts. Each of us kids had our own demands. I wouldn't eat poultry, younger brother wouldn't eat ham, yadda, yadda, yadda. Thank God for heat-and-serve food, it's probably raised the country's mental health level a good deal, at least the mothers'.

So much for the moment.

Publicserf

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