The Obedient Wife

A Thursday laugh for all of you ... Enjoy!

There was a man who had worked all his life, had saved all of his money, and was a real 'miser' when it came to his money.

Just before he died, he said to his wife, “When I die, I want you to take all my money and put it in the casket with me. I want to take my money to the afterlife with me.”

And so he got his wife to promise him, with all of her heart, that when he died, she would put all of the money into the casket with him.

Well, he died. He was stretched out in the casket, his wife was sitting there - dressed in black, and her friend was sitting next to her. When they finished the ceremony, and just before the undertakers got ready to close the casket, the wife said, “Wait just a moment!”

She had a small metal box with her; she came over with the box and put it in the casket. Then the undertakers locked the casket down and they rolled it away. Her friend said, “Girl, I know you were not fool enough to put all that money in there with your husband.”

The loyal wife replied, “Listen, I'm a Christian; I cannot go back on my word. I promised him that I was going to put that money into the casket with him.”

“You mean to tell me you put that money in the casket with him!?”

“I sure did,” said the wife. “I got it all together, put it into my account, and wrote him a check ... If he can cash it, then he can spend it.”

THE NEXT SURVIVOR SERIES

Six married men will be dropped on an island with one car

and 3 kids each for six weeks.

Each kid will play

two sports

and either take music or dance classes.

There is no fast food.

Each man must

take care of his 3 kids,

keep his assigned house clean,

correct all homework,

complete science projects,

cook, do laundry,

and pay a list of 'pretend' bills with not enough money.

In addition, each man

will have to budget in money for groceries each week.

Each man must remember the birthdays

of all their friends and relatives,

and send cards out on time--no emailing.

Each man must also take each child to a

doctor's appointment,

a dentist appointment,

and a haircut appointment.

He must make one unscheduled

and inconvenient visit per child to the Urgent Care.

He must also make cookies or cupcakes for a social function.

Each man will be responsible for

decorating his own assigned house,

planting flowers outside

and keeping it presentable at all times.

The men will

only have access to television

when the kids are asleep and all chores are done.

The men must shave their legs,

wear makeup daily,

adorn himself with jewelry,

wear uncomfortable yet stylish shoes,

keep fingernails polished

and eyebrows groomed.

During one of the six weeks,

the men will have to endure

severe abdominal cramps, back aches,

and have extreme, unexplained mood swings

but never once complain or slow down from other duties.

They must attend weekly school meetings, church,

and find time at least once to spend the afternoon at the park or a similar setting.

They will need to

read a book to the kids each night,

feed them,

dress them,

brush their teeth

and comb their hair by 7:00 am.

A test will be given at the end of the six weeks,

and each father will be required to know all of the following information:

each child's birthday,

height, weight,

shoe size, clothes size

and doctor's name.

Also the child's weight at birth,

length, time of birth,

and length of labor,

each child's favorite color,

middle name,

favorite snack,

favorite song,

favorite drink,

favorite toy,

biggest fear

and what they want to be when they grow up.

The kids vote them off the island based on performance.

The last man wins only if... he still has enough energy

to be intimate with his spouse

at a moment's notice.

If the last man does win,

he can play the game

over and over and over again

for the next 18-25 years

eventually earning the right

To be called Mother!

Poop

Interesting topic for today's blog entry, don't you think? Poop is human nature. Everyone does it. So what makes it so dang fascinating ... to some? Not sure. Maybe it's a guy thing. Maybe it's just my family. But a few months back, Cameron came out of the bathroom and told me I had to take a look at what was in the toilet. I politely refrained, and then he warned me not to flush. He wanted to "keep it there until Dad could come home and see it." Now some of you may know the inside joke regarding the snakelight. If you don't, consider yourself blessed. If you do, then this incident would be right up there with it. Many times a "witness" has been called in to verify the size, similar to that of a fishing contest. Fast forward through those months to this weekend, when apparently my son decided to take the documentation upon himself. Didn't know it until he casually asked me to show him some pictures I had taken yesterday on my camera. I was flipping through the pictures on my digital camera and thought I was going to die. Seems while Bryan and I were outside working in the yard on Saturday, he felt the need for some "show and tell" time. For documenting a still portrait of, well, you're smart people. You can figure it out. He was hysterically laughing, on the floor, tears in the eyes, thinking it was the funniest thing on earth. "Let's run upstairs and show dad before he falls asleep." I'm sure this is exactly the image he wants before nodding off. Whatever. I honestly was not going to post about poop, it was not the most important thing on my mind today, but sometimes you just think back to a conversation that makes you laugh and this was one of them. Maybe if I "document" it, I'll stop having to replay the conversation in my head. And no, despite the why not's? from Cameron, I will NOT post the picture on the blog. Be happy I used the image I did. If you so desire to see it, feel free to email me. Then of course, I might be forced to share in another post who made such requests.

How to call the police ...

when you're old and don't move fast anymore...

George Phillips of Meridian, Mississippi was going up to bed when his wife told him that he'd left the light on in the garden shed, which she could see from the bedroom window. George opened the back door to go turn off the light but saw that there were people in the shed stealing things. He phoned the police, who asked, "Is someone in your house?" and he said "no." Then they said that all patrols were busy, and that he should simply lock his door and an officer would be along when available.

George said, "Okay," hung up, counted to 30, and phoned the police again. "Hello, I just called you a few seconds ago because there were people stealing things from my shed. Well, you don't have to worry about them now because I just shot them." Then he hung up.

Within five minutes six police cars, the SWAT Team, a helicopter, two fire trucks, a paramedic and an ambulance showed up at the Phillips' residence and caught the burglars red-handed.
One of the Policemen said to George, "I thought you said that you'd shot them?!"

George said, "I thought you said there was nobody available?!"

Don't mess with old people.

(Supposedly true story - who knows? Still funny!)

A Typical Friday Night

BOWL ANGEL!

Just thought I'd post a few pics from Cam's skate lessons. Our Friday nights usually consist of Cam's skate lesson/practice, and then dinner out. :) My how things change!
This was one of my favorite pictures. He was totally okay after initially falling down in the bowl, but I thought the picture was hilarious. He looked as if he's ready to make a snow angel. And the fact that his board was just sitting back there - waaaaaaay back there...


Here he is getting ready to drop in the bowl.



He's coming out of the bowl on this one and catching some air.

Working on some of the ramps

Here's the story behind this pic: Cameron had a skate lesson tonight. So Bryan and I drop him off, and head to Starbucks for some much needed fuel to get us through the next couple of hours. We get back, and are getting out of the car when this lady pulls into a parking space in the next row over. Someone was meeting her, as she left her car and got into another car that pulled up. Well before she left, she proceeded to clean out her car. She threw a heap of crap underneath her car and left. Doesn't settle so well with Bryan, so after they leave, he heads over to her car, hits the pavement and pulls this out. Apparently it was her dinner (plate, napkin and food). So he returns the lost trash to her by tucking it under her windshield wiper. Unbelievable. She saw us standing there and still had the nerve to toss it all out. At any rate, we just "returned lost property". :)

Thought for the Day

I know God will not give me anything I can't handle.

I just wish that He didn't trust me so much.

~Mother Teresa

44th President of the United States

I watched some of the Inauguration today and was fairly impressed. Maybe it's because I was never at home while it was on (probably) or that I just didn't have any interest in watching any of our past President's take the oath (sounds more likely) but I just don't remember ever seeing the ceremony. I liked his speech, I liked seeing all the "middle-class" citizens there, I liked seeing the emotions on people's faces. I did not like the poet, or Aretha's hat. But other than that, it was pretty good. I did tape it, because there were a few areas that Cameron showed some interest in, like the fact that Obama was using the same Bible for his oath that Abraham Lincoln used. He was fascinated by this. So was I. So in the beginning, during the motorcade from the White House to the Inauguration, Cam was in awe over the new limousine that Obama was riding in. Wondered how Cadillac stretched it the way they did, what parts were bulletproof, if there were TV's in it, you know, the important stuff. Then he asked where they were going. I explained that it wasn't a long drive, but they were headed to the Capitol, where Obama "works".

Cameron: He works?
Me: What do you mean he works? Of course he does ... he's the President.
Cameron: I know, but do they actually do anything ... on their own? You know he doesn't drive his own cars, and probably won't anymore.
Me: Well he has lots of meetings to go to ... about stuff.
Cameron: That doesn't sound like fun.

Then we're watching the former VP's and President's entering the Capitol, he's asking about each one, making some observatory comments ... thought Bill Clinton should be the oldest living President because he looks older than Carter. I'm sure he'd appreciate that one. Then he wondered where the Obama's daughters were.

Me: You mean Malia and Sasha?
Cameron: I don't know who they are .. I just wondered where his daughters were.
Me: Those are his daughters' names and they should be coming through soon.
Cameron: How old are they? Didn't they have school today?Me: I'm pretty sure this was a justified reason for them missing school today.
Cameron: No fair.
Me: Well when your father becomes President, you can miss school for his Inauguration too.

And then after fast forwarding through about another hour or so of the ceremony, he asks if it was over, and I told him not quite. "Do they get any food there? They have to be hungry." Very good point. Perhaps the White House Staff should look into serving refreshments during the Inauguration. What about a hot dog guy or even someone throwing peanuts around?

Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday Art & Lucy! I'm not sure that I'll ever forget this. For a recap on the story, click here! Had a good weekend, but very exhausting. We spent Saturday helping move Theresa and the kids into their house. Yahoo! It's a nice house, the kids were excited to have their own rooms again, and have already made some friends. Most importantly, they (we) are all able to get back to our own routines. There's no doubt that it was a VERY long four months or so, for all of us, but it's all good now! So ... that was tiring, but we made sure to take a break to watch football on Sunday. Okay, so it was a long break. Whatever. Awesome Cardinals game ... cannot wait for Superbowl! Cam headed to skate practice today for a few hours, and I managed to get some grocery shopping done. Nothing too exciting! Happy MLK Day ... Cam learned quite a bit about Martin Luther King in school this week. He informed me today that his funeral procession happened on my birthday April 9th ... but 6 years before I was born. Little known fact that he enlightened me with today. :) "They're" right when they say you learn something new every day ... even from an 8 year old.

Honor Roll ... Again!

I started typing "I don't want to brag, but ..." before I realized, you're damn right I'm gonna brag! Cameron made Honor Roll again for the 3rd quarter. All A's, one B. So proud. He truly works hard and it shows. He also informed us that once a quarter they take an 8 minute math test, approximately 240 questions. Well he finished them all in the time allowed, and got 100%. It seems that he and another girl in his class were the only ones in all of the 3rd grade classes to have done so. Yup - more bragging. :)

Enjoy your Friday - it's a 3-day weekend for us! (Well by us I mean Cam and I). Going to be watching some football - Go Cards! - and probably take it easy. Have a great weekend!

Monday Funny

This one is long, but funny! Happy Monday!

I called my friend Andy Sable, a gastroenterologist, to make an appointment for a colonoscopy. A few days later, in his office, Andy showed me a color diagram of the colon, a lengthy organ that appears to go all over the place, at one point passing briefly through Minneapolis. Then Andy explained the colonoscopy procedure to me in a thorough, reassuring and patient manner. I nodded thoughtfully, but I didn't really hear anything he said, because my brain was shrieking, quote, 'HE'S GOING TO STICK A TUBE 17,000 FEET UP YOUR BEHIND!'

I left Andy's office with some written instructions, and a prescription for a product called 'MoviPrep,' which comes in a box large enough to hold a microwave oven. I will discuss MoviPrep in detail later; for now suffice it to say that we must never allow it to fall into the hands of America 's enemies.

I spent the next several days productively sitting around being nervous. Then, on the day before my colonoscopy, I began my preparation. In accordance with my instructions, I didn't eat any solid food that day; all I had was chicken broth, which is basically water, only with less flavor. Then, in the evening, I took the MoviPrep. You mix two packets of powder together in a one-liter plastic jug, then you fill it with lukewarm water. (For those unfamiliar with the metric system, a liter is about 32 gallons.) Then you have to drink the whole jug. This takes about an hour, because MoviPrep tastes - and here I am being kind - like a mixture of goat spit and urinal cleanser, with just a hint of lemon. The instructions for MoviPrep, clearly written by somebody with a great sense of humor, state that after you drink it, 'a loose watery bowel movement may result.' This is kind of like saying that after you jump off your roof, you may experience contact with the ground. MoviPrep is a nuclear laxative. I don't want to be too graphic, here, but: Have you ever seen a space-shuttle launch? This is pretty much the MoviPrep experience, with you as the shuttle. There are times when you wish the commode had a seat belt. You spend several hours pretty much confined to the bathroom, spurting violently. You eliminate everything. And then, when you figure you must be totally empty, you have to drink another liter of MoviPrep, at which point, as far as I can tell, your bowels travel into the future and start eliminating food that you have not even eaten yet.

After an action-packed evening, I finally got to sleep. The next morning my wife drove me to the clinic. I was very nervous. Not only was I worried about the procedure, but I had been experiencing occasional return bouts of MoviPrep spurtage. I was thinking, 'What if I spurt on Andy?' How do you apologize to a friend for something like that? Flowers would not be enough. At the clinic I had to sign many forms acknowledging that I understood and totally agreed with whatever the heck the forms said. Then they led me to a room full of other colonoscopy people, where I went inside a little curtained space and took off my clothes and put on one of those hospital garments designed by sadist perverts, the kind that, when you put it on, makes you feel even more naked than when you are actually naked. Then a nurse named Eddie put a little needle in a vein in my left hand. Ordinarily I would have fainted, but Eddie was very good, and I was already lying down. Eddie also told me that some people put vodka in their MoviPrep. At first I was ticked off that I hadn't thought of this, but then I pondered what would happen if you got yourself too tipsy to make it to the bathroom, so you were staggering around in full Fire Hose Mode. You would have no choice but to burn your house.

When everything was ready, Eddie wheeled me into the procedure room, where Andy was waiting with a nurse and an anesthesiologist. I did not see the 17,000-foot tube, but I knew Andy had it hidden around there somewhere. I was seriously nervous at this point. Andy had me roll over on my left side, and the anesthesiologist began hooking something up to the needle in my hand. There was music playing in the room, and I realized that the song was 'Dancing Queen' by Abba. I remarked to Andy that, of all the songs that could be playing during this particular procedure, 'Dancing Queen' has to be the least appropriate. 'You want me to turn it up?' said Andy, from somewhere behind me. 'Ha ha,' I said. And then it was time, the moment I had been dreading for more than decade.

If you are squeamish, prepare yourself, because I am going to tell you, in explicit detail, exactly what it was like. I have no idea. Really. I slept through it. One moment, Abba was shrieking 'Dancing Queen! Feel the beat from the tambourine ..' And the next moment, I was back in the other room, waking up in a very mellow mood. Andy was looking down at me and asking me how I felt. I felt excellent. I felt even more excellent when Andy told me that it was all over, and that my colon had passed with flying colors. I have never been prouder of an internal organ.

Dumbing Down Our Kids: Why American Children Feel Good About Themselves But Can't Read, Write Or Add

This is the title of a book Charles J. Sykes, wrote back in 1996. In 2007, he wrote another book called, "50 Rules Kids Won't Learn In School: Real-World Antidotes to Feel-Good Education." The following list is included in this book and I thought it was interesting:

Rule 1: Life is not fair - get used to it!

Rule 2: The world won't care about your self-esteem. The world will expect you to accomplish something BEFORE you feel good about yourself.

Rule 3: You will NOT make $60,000 a year right out of high school. You won't be a vice-president with a car phone until you earn both.

Rule 4: If you think your teacher is tough, wait till you get a boss.

Rule 5: Flipping burgers is not beneath your dignity. Your Grandparents had a different word for burger flipping: they called it opportunity.

Rule 6: If you mess up, it's not your parents' fault, so don't whine about your mistakes, learn from them.

Rule 7: Before you were born, your parents weren't as boring as they are now. They got that way from paying your bills, cleaning your clothes and listening to you talk about how cool you thought you were. So before you save the rain forest from the parasites of your parent's generation, try delousing the closet in your own room.

Rule 8: Your school may have done away with winners and losers, but life HAS NOT. In some schools, they have abolished failing grades and they'll give you as MANY TIMES as you want to get the right answer. This doesn't bear the slightest resemblance to ANYTHING in real life.

Rule 9: Life is not divided into semesters. You don't get summers off and very few employers are interested in helping you FIND YOURSELF. Do that on your own time.

Rule 10: Television is NOT real life. In real life people actually have to leave the coffee shop and go to jobs.

Rule 11: Be nice to nerds. Chances are you'll end up working for one.

I liked the list, and his line of thinking. Further down he mentions that parents can't "bubble-wrap their children" although this is in reference to protection from unfairness, but I somewhat agree. It's difficult to know when to let kids be kids, or in my case, boys be boys. I have a hard time with Cameron being out front riding his bike or skateboarding when one of us aren't out there. I get nervous. I think of the what-ifs. Then I think that he's fine if he's just going to the end of the street and back. Then I have visions of something happening and me thinking, "why didn't I just stick with my gut and NOT let him ride to the end of the street without me out there?" Horrible I know. But times are soooo different than we were kids. Mom and Dad didn't have to sit on the driveway every time we wanted to ride or bike or roller skate out front. In fact, we had free reign of the neighborhood. So long as we were home when the streetlights came on, we were fine. Hell, some days were were outside ALL DAY, only coming in for something to eat, and maybe go to the bathroom. Maybe. And did we wear helmets when we rode our bikes? No. Never. It used to be that every time grandparents or great-grandparents said, "Those were the good ol' days ..." we sort of rolled our eyes. Now I understand. Now I say it. Every generation has something in particular to reference when they say, "Those were the good ol' days..." Playing outside for 10 hours at a time, without a chaperone or a cell phone, was one of mine.

Okay, so after reading the following excerpt from his book (Chapter 1), I decided to order the book. I'll let you know how it turns out! Grab your cup of coffee; this is a great read!

Chapter One
Rule 1: Life is not fair. Get used to it.
The average teenager uses the phrase “It’s not fair” 8.6 times a day. The kids got it from their parents, who said it so often they decided they must be the most idealistic generation ever. When those parents started hearing it from their own kids, they understood Rule 1. Recognizing that life is not fair is a reality check. Hurricanes, tsunamis, plagues, earthquakes, and famines are not fair. Genetics is not fair. The good guys don’t always win. It’s not fair that some kids are taller, go through puberty early, or can eat gallons of Häagen Dazs without gaining a pound. It’s not fair that your average talentless D-list celebrity makes more money than all the math and science teachers in your school combined, and it’s not fair when the moronic suck-up gets the good job—but let’s not talk about Congress. “Life is unfair,” author Edward Abbey observed. “And it’s not fair that life is unfair.”

You can’t control the unfairness of the world. What you can control is the way you react. How you respond will determine what kind of a person you will become. “Everything can be taken from a man,” wrote concentration-camp survivor Viktor Frankl, “but . . . the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.”
Usually, complaints about unfairness have nothing to do with justice, but are simply a reaction to finding out that you have to take responsibility for your life; that you are accountable for your actions; that your choices have consequences; that you have to work for money; that you have to fix something you broke; that you do not get rewards that others earned while you played video games. None of this is unfair.

Part of the problem is that so many young people know that they are special—they’ve been told so for years. They think that they deserve and are entitled to all sorts of self-actualization and perks that go with feeling so good about themselves. Some were under the impression that the “pursuit of happiness” meant that they were going to end up dating Jessica Alba, winning American Idol, and driving a Porsche. They will have to get used to disappointment. In the meantime, when they don’t get everything they expected, it seems . . . so unfair. But failing to get what you wanted is not unfair. Disappointment is a symptom of life, not a sign that the world is ripping you off. World hunger is unfair. AIDS is unfair. Not being able to go to the mall in your skanky T-shirt is not. Your share of the federal debt is unfair; having to turn off 50 Cent so other people in your house can sleep is not.

So you have a choice: you can either join the chorus of the permanently whining or recognize that you have to take responsibility for your life and learn to deal with it. Unfortunately, wrapping children in bubble wrap for much of their lives doesn’t really prepare them for coping with unfairness. Friends will let you down, good people will get sick, star athletes will blow out their knees, and jerks will win the lottery while a promising physicist at the very beginning of his career comes down with an incurable, crippling disease that destroys his chances for a normal life.
Stephen Hawking was not born in a wheelchair. The famous physicist was an active child, and even though he wasn’t good at ball games, he was able to take up rowing when he went to England’s Oxford University at the age of seventeen. He was one of the university’s most brilliant students—already recognized as a star—but in his third year at Oxford, Hawking began noticing that he was becoming increasingly clumsy, occasionally falling over for no reason. Shortly after his twenty-first birthday he was referred to a specialist, who began a variety of medical tests to find out what was happening to Hawking. Doctors couldn’t tell him what he had, except that it wasn’t multiple sclerosis. They told him that he had an unusual disease, that he would get worse, and that they had no treatment. “The realization that I had an incurable disease, that was likely to kill me in a few years, was a bit of a shock,” Hawking later wrote. “How could something like that happen to me? Why should I be cut off like this?” How could life be so unfair? But while he was in the hospital, Hawking saw a boy die of leukemia in the bed next to him.

“Clearly,” he concluded, “there were people who were worse off than me. At least my condition didn’t make me feel sick. Whenever I feel inclined to be sorry for myself I remember that boy.” But it got worse. His physical condition deteriorated progressively. He had nightmares about being put to death, and others in which he sacrificed his life to save others. “But I didn’t die” he wrote. “In fact, although there was a cloud hanging over my future, I found, to my surprise, that I was enjoying life in the present more than before.” Even as his condition declined, his scientific reputation began to grow and he became engaged to his future wife. “That engagement changed my life,” he remembered. “It gave me something to live for.” After 1974, though, Hawking was no longer able to feed himself or get himself in and out of bed. Still, he managed to continue his scientific work.

But in 1985 Hawking suffered another blow. He contracted pneumonia, and in order to save his life, doctors had to perform a tracheotomy, an operation to open a direct airway through the neck, involving an incision in the trachea, or windpipe. Stephen Hawking, who had endured so much, and lost so much, now permanently lost the ability to speak, and required around-the-clock nursing care. He would have to spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair, physically helpless. For a while, the only way this brilliant scientist could communicate was by spelling out words one letter at a time by raising his eyebrows when someone pointed at a chart of letters. Eventually, he was able to use a small computer and speech synthesizer to communicate. He has used them to write a book, dozens of scientific papers, and even public speeches. Hawking is now perhaps the world’s most famous physicist. He has three children, one grandchild, and twelve honorary degrees; is a fellow of The Royal Society and a member of the U.S. National Academy of Sciences; and has received many awards, medals, and prizes. Asked what he felt about his disability and the tragic twists of his life, Hawking responded: Not a lot. I try to lead as normal a life as possible, and not think about my condition, or regret the things it prevents me from doing, which are not that many. [Emphasis added.]

Hawking does not complain that life is unfair. How do your problems stack up next to his?

The Lawn Mower

I got this from a friend today and had to share! :)

Marriage is a relationship in which one person is always right, and the other is usually the husband.

When our lawn mower broke and wouldn't run, my wife kept hinting to me that I should get it fixed. But, somehow I always had something else to take care of first: the truck, the car, e-mail, fishing, always something more important to me. Finally she thought of a clever way to make her point.

When I arrived home one day, I found her seated in the tall grass, busily snipping away with a tiny pair of sewing scissors. I watched silently for a short time and then went into the house. I was gone only a few minutes. When I came out again I handed her a toothbrush.

"When you finish cutting the grass," I said, "you might as well sweep the driveway."

The doctors say I will walk again, but I will always have a limp.

On another note ... I just wanted to say that it has been exactly one year since I started this blog. Not too shabby if I do say so myself! I'm gonna go ahead and give myself a pat on the back ... I hope I've enlightened some of you with my posts, and kept others somewhat in touch with the pictures. Thanks for sticking around!!!

Need some vacation ideas?

Just in case anyone needed some ideas for a different sort of vacation, I'm here to help. :) Saw these on a website and they looked so wonderful! (Some more than others ...)

• A Treehouse in Mt. Ranier
• An Observatory in the mountains of France (okay, so I can't understand anything on the website because it's all in French, but the pictures are beautiful!)
• A renovated Caboose in Colorado (this one has a whirlpool tub!)
• The Library Hotel (sounds like it's right up my alley ... maybe not Bryan's though ...)
• An Island Lighthouse near San Francisco
• A vintage Airstream Trailer - in Europe!
• This Ice Hotel inside the Arctic Circle
• A room in the Guggenheim
• A Castle in Umbria

Yahoo!

School starts back up tomorrow! Yay! Oh, I'm sorry ... was I being a little too excited? :) Just looking forward to getting back into a routine. I know Cam was excited, although he would never admit it. Hope you all had a wonderful New Year's! Cam spent a few days with Mike and Denise so he had a blast and I didn't have to hear anything about boredom. Plus, it forced me to take down all the Christmas decorations on Friday and since we hadn't made it to the store, Bryan HAD to take me out to dinner. Hee, hee. I love how that works. Pretty low key weekend -still fighting off this cold. It's a doozer. Back to the rat race people - Christmas is over! Or as Cameron asked, "So when's my next day off from school?"