Wonders of the Sea

photo credit

Since my sister Michelle deleted her blog, I get to capitalize on her wit, charm, and writing talents here at HPKT. Here's her latest offering:

Every time I take the boys to the eye doctor, they are thrilled. Yesterday was no exception; Logan talked in the car on the way there about how he couldn't wait to see the sea urchin. At the eye care place, they have an impressive salt water tank with wonderful creatures. The black sea urchin has been our favorite for several years. Logan even said, "When he dies, I'm gonna bawl."

While in the office, we watched the star urchin move about, commenting on the movements of his mouth. It's a brilliant mouth, similar to the one in the photo above, but in a bright neon-blue. It's very prominent, with it's beautiful glow. We decided that when we got home, we would Google the creature to learn more about him.

Imagine our laughter tonight when we discovered that the "mouth" that we love to watch flexing in and out...

...is actually his anus.

(Something tells me there won't be too much bawling after all.)

Sundays in My City

Hosted by Unknown Mami, Sundays in My City is a great way to see the world from your couch (or desk chair). Each week, bloggers from all over the globe share shots from their locales. Here are my contributions this week.

Depending on your interests, either one of these first two shots represent the word, "Mecca" to you. The first is a shot of Kroll's West restaurant, in Green Bay, on NFL game day.


(Kroll's is a must-eat-at destination for many out-of-towners who visit "Titletown.")

The second needs no explanation. I took this shot at about 9am, heading in to work concessions that day.
Just before I reached the entrance, I was drawn to this group, just inside the gates.

Kyle told me later that he met them when his high school marching band played at Lambeau a couple of years back. They're known as The Tundra Line. To see/hear why they drew me in, watch this:



For more Sundays in My City contributions, visit Unknown Mami :)

The Man with the Golden Turkey Baster?

There was some drama in the 4444 household on Thanksgiving Day.

First, while making my Autumn Cake, I dropped a half stick of butter and....


Yes, you know you're a blogger when you stop to take a photo of your dropped butter (which you quickly caught between your sneaks. (To be fair, though, I happened to be taking photos anyway, because I updated the recipe post on Mrs.4444 Cooks.)

And no, I did not use the dropped butter, Silly. Or maybe I did; how would you know? (But really, I didn't.) But how about those quick reflexes?!

As if that wasn't dramatic enough (haha), at 2:30pm, the power went out for more than 200 residential customers in our area. No problem! We have a generator, right? Well, that depends on how you look at it; we have one, but it is broken and in need of a $700 repair, for starters (no pun intended.) Thankfully, Mr.4444 had the turkey on the grill, and I had just taken dessert out of the oven when it quit, so I knew we'd at least have turkey and dessert. Mr.4444 wasn't panicked about the bird, but he was freaked out about having no power, and not just because the Packers were playing on TV; he just can't handle having nothing to "do" but baste a turkey.

Kendall was thrilled with the power outage, as she has a hard time getting anyone to play board games with her (she always, always wins), and Mr.4444 (who normally has no patience for board games) was losing his mind with boredom after 20 minutes, so he had absolutely no excuse not to play, and he caved...

and she kicked his butt in a game of Sorry.

After about an hour without power, I started to get a little worried, because it was Thanksgiving, after all, and we were expecting company. However, I really felt sorry for the people at the power company, who were likely getting their butts chewed. The way I see it, we're lucky we have power at all, so we have no right btching about losing it once in a blue moon. Still, the timing was a little worrisome. Finally, at 3:30pm, power was restored, and the rest is history.

And speaking of timing, why is it that every time we tag-team a meal and Mr.4444 says his part will be ready at a certain time, it is always ready 15 to 20 minutes later than that, and yet I never, ever learn to just factor that in? Instead, I start rolling my eyes and getting cranky when I have the potatoes finished and the bird is still 10 minutes from coming into the house to "rest" for 15 more? You would think I would learn, but instead, my blood pressure rises and I bite my tongue (after all, there's a reason I'm not the one cooking a 22-pound bird on a Weber. How can I complain?!), all the while resisting an urge to scream.

After dinner (my blood pressure and blood sugar happy), Mr.4444 and I hugged and kissed to congratulate each other on a successful meal, and I said, "It was the best ever," because really, it was.

He replied, "Absolutely. There was a little drama, but I kind of like that!"

What?! Was he kidding me?!

I think he's been watching too much of the James Bond marathon...

Friday Fragments, Episode #72

The wonderful thing about fragments

is fragments are wonderful things!

Their tops are made out of tidbits,

their bottoms are made out of springs!

(Hey, you try to make random rhyme with "things!")

They're bouncy, bouncy, bouncy, bouncy, fun fun fun fun fun!

The wonderful thing about fragments is...that I'm not the only one!

Yeah, I'm losing my mind here, apparently, but actually, anything goes for Friday Fragments, right? Bits, pieces, miscellaneous thoughts from your week, all collected into a single post that makes you feel like you accomplished something great with very little stress. [Want to know how to play? Click on the green button above.] Welcome! Off I go...

***Okay, how's this for a mystery? Exactly 367 days ago, I posted a desperate plea for help for a bizarre problem I was having with my tongue. I never discovered the cause (doctor just gave me some dumb diagnosis like IDK-itis, and it resolved itself, but not for several annoying months and a tongue biopsy that turned up negative. Guess what? It's back. I noticed it today. How strange is that?

***I did a little housecleaning on Half-Past Kissin' Time this week and deleted dead links from the bottom of this page. Now, my mosaic of blog buttons looks even more gorgeous! If you don't see yours down there, let me know, and I'll be happy to add it.

***MIL and I went to Buffalo Wild Wings one night last week, after kicking off our Christmas shopping. I had been looking forward to having some of their delicious wings, because I hadn't been there in a long time. However, I changed my mind and had the Southwest Chicken Flatbread (kind of like a quesadilla). It was fantastic. Just thought I'd pass that on.

***I had so many Favorite Friday Fragments this week that I'm having trouble narrowing it down, so I'm going with three this week....

1st, from Hallie...

*Someone once referred to walking into a freshly soiled bathroom as being hit in the face with a shitty fist. I TOTALLY agree; I was sucker punched not once, but twice this week at work. Yuck.

*************************
A 2nd favorite comes from Jenn-My Life with the Crazies (in regard to Yaya's bad news last week; an adoption falling through)...

We are feeling sad here in the Crazy House for Yaya. My son has orange hair and as those of you know, that is Yaya's favorite color. I thought it would be nice if I explained to my kidlets about Yaya and what she is going through. I thought my son ( being the most sensitive young boy) could make her a pretty orange card. While explaining all this to my kids, my daughter said the following...

"Wait... are you gonna send Trevor to live with her? Can I have Trev's room?"

Such a compassionate child of mine. Needless to say, it took me 20 minutes to calm down my crying son.

*********************
And 3rd.... Most mothers feel a little uncomfortable when their sons talk openly about their attraction to the opposite sex, so imagine what UnExperienced Mom went through when her son brazenly said...

"I want Penny in my bed."

Yeah, the mouth dropped open just a bit. But it dropped open even more when he said,

"Penny is going to take a bath with me."

No, these aren't part of The Young and the Restless's script. They're the dreams a lusty preschooler, wishing he could sleep with a cartoon character.

Yes, Tamara's son is in love with Penny, the middle-aged, female firefighter from a cartoon called Fireman Sam. Is that adorable, or what?

So, congratulations, my fragmented friends. The award this week goes to you! :)

***I'm so glad Yaya's feeling better. Here's proof. Gotta love that girl...(but not necessarily her dancing, haha.)

***Sorry to be cryptic, but remember my request earlier this week for your favorite posts? I can't tell you what it's for, because you might be the person I need it for, but if you email me, I'll email you the skinny if I haven't already. (Unless you're that person, of course, haha.) And I have to say GOD BLESS each and every one of you who have your email addresses in your profiles or on your blog; you've made my job easier!! It's going to be awesome, though, so do contact me if you're interested in knowing more about a very cool idea.

***On Wednesday morning (no school for me!!!), Kyle came close to being traumatized for life when he knocked on our master bedroom door and opened it without waiting for a response. Seriously; he was three minutes from needing therapy for the rest of his life. (Sorry if that's TMI, but it's a great fragment, so I couldn't resist.)

***A friend had this at the bottom of an email she sent to me:

"Never, under any circumstances, take a sleeping pill and a laxative on the same night!"

(And yes, she was apparently speaking from personal experience, poor thing!

***There you have it. Now, let's have yours! Link up your FRIDAY FRAGMENTS post below (other links will be deleted, sorry) and meet up with some other fragmenters; we're all friendly here :)

May Your Thanksgiving Be Non-Violent

photo circa 1971 (Brother4444 and Mr.4444)

Also, visit Matty today for a terrific, original Thanksgiving gem :)

As the Holidays Roll Out

Christmas Eve is a pretty big deal around here. We have a tradition of going to church in the afternoon, coming home and opening new pajamas, and eating a formal dinner by candlelight in our pj’s. The year Great Grandma Florence passed away two days prior was a somber one. Family from Michigan had joined us (here for the funeral, which would take place on the 26th), and although everyone tried to get into the Christmas spirit by wearing pajamas to our house, it was tough. I can’t tell you about the depths of (Mr.4444's dad) Big Bob’s sorrow that night (the computer screen becomes blurry just thinking about it). Normally very jovial and full of Christmas Spirit, his spirit was absent that night. We had lost his mother and a larger-than-life personality that helped define our family’s character.

Earlier that day, I had bought a tall, burgundy-colored pillar candle and a gold stand to hold it in a place of prominence on the mantel. As we gathered that night, I shared my idea to light the candle and keep it lit throughout our Christmas Eve celebration as a way of remembering the loved ones we’d lost. Bob seemed unimpressed, but he did consent to lighting the candle for me. I don’t remember anything else about the night except the ending. After hugs good bye, as Bob was heading out the door, he called out, “Don’t forget to blow Grandma out. She’d hate like hell to burn the house down!” That gives you a glimpse of the sense of humor he had and how much someone like that in a family would be missed (He passed away unexpectedly 6 weeks later)

When Great Grandma Florence and Grandpa Bob were taken from our family, (especially in the span of 6 weeks time) it was like a kick in the stomach; we couldn’t breathe, and we wondered about the injustice of it. Our identity as a family took such a hit, it was hard to believe we would ever be anything special without them. However, we have made it. We have “regrouped,” so-to-speak. I still miss Gram’s and Bob’s great senses of humor and their thoughtfulness, among other things. However, I see their spirits in my husband and children, who are their offspring and have inherited their wit, generosity, and fun-loving personalities. I wear the sweaters Gram lovingly knit for us, and I see Bob’s influence when my husband demonstrates (constantly) what an amazing dad he is to our kids.

While our family will never be the same without Gram and Bob, it is still special. What I’m trying to say is that if you have lost a family member this year, or if you just miss someone who is no longer with you this holiday season, I appreciate your pain. I know your sense of loss, and I care. Hang tough; the pain of loss softens over time, even if it doesn’t completely go away. Remember the good times. Start a new tradition in the name of family. Pray for healing.

You are in my prayers…

Originally posted November 2007, but still very heartfelt.

When Teachers Scar Their Students

Everyone has them; flashes of memories from childhood experiences in school, indelibly etched into our minds because of their significance. I have several, as a matter of fact:

*Seeing my kindergarten teacher walk out of a bathroom stall (I was shocked that she was an actual human being, I guess.)

*A TMI moment with that same kindergarten teacher as she sat on a piano bench before our little circle on the floor wearing a too-short mini-skirt (it was 1968.) (I still shudder about that one.)

*For some reason, the moment my 2nd grade teacher (Miss Jome) announced to the class that my mom had had a baby that morning (my baby sister, Michelle) is also etched in my mind, though I have no idea why.

*In middle school, I have a vivid memory of reading my 7th grade Daily Journal note from Mr. Bennie, the teacher who broke my heart when he gently let me down about possibly dating my older sister, Mary. (I had tried to set them up, when it was really me who wanted to date him. Hey--he was hot, drove a black Camaro, and Mary was old enough to be his girlfriend, whereas I was clearly not.)

I've got many other snapshots in the photo album in my mind, but I think you get the point. I recognize that there are pivotal moments in life that burn visuals into our minds forever. Today, I'm sorry to say that I am responsible for such a moment that a student of ours may never forget and may need therapy for. I was sitting at a student desk, videotaping a student presentation that was taking place at the front of the classroom when I suddenly felt a draft. I looked down at my shirt to find that a button had come undone, leaving a good portion of my bra certainly exposed to anyone sitting to my left and distracted enough to notice. Mortified, I muttered, "Oh my G. Why didn't somebody say something?" and turned to see who might have noticed. Six sixth graders sat to my left. All but one was paying attention to the presentation at the front of the room. I searched the face looking my way but could not connect eyes, because he was looking at this...

Oops. I was going to post the pic (seriously--I recreated the wardrobe malfuntion moment at home, with Kendall's help), but then I remembered that lesser things posted on the Internet have resulted in teachers being fired, so you'll have to use your imagination.

In an instant, the accidental voyeur snapped out of it, met my eyes, and instantly turned beat red. Poor kid; it really wasn't his fault. I really feel sorry for him (he's a very sweet boy.) But especially after yesterday's post, I find it very comical.

And I hope he washed his eyes out with soap tonight.


P.S. If you've been reading Half-Past Kissin' Time for a while, this may remind you of another very embarrassing moment I experienced at school. (The post resulted in the most comments I've ever recieved.) Warning: Swallow your coffee before reading Why Kendall Might Be Sorry I Work at Her Middle School.

I swear on a stack of bibles that I am not an exhibitionist, in spite of the evidence against me.

I've Still Got It. I'm Just Not Sure If Anyone Wants It

At least three different men I met today were obviously attracted to me. I'm saying they were clearly interested. One even became mesmerized by my blue eyes. Seriously; one even called a friend over just to look at "her awesome blue eyes." He could hardly take his eyes off of me, and he came back to talk to me at least twice, a big smile on his face.

What?

Well, yes; I was selling the men beer at the time, at Lambeau Field.

What?

Okay, yes, it was the third quarter of the game, and they had their "boots full," and the smiles were sloppy. What's your point?!

I used to be a looker. Yeah, yeah, I'm not pretending I'm hard to look at these days or fishing for compliments. I'm just saying I used to get checked out in a way I'm not checked out anymore. These days, walking through a mall, young, good-looking men only look at me long enough to register that I'm not 20 years old, and their eyes move on, though not in an unkind way, just a disinterested one. At first, it hurt a little, but I've adjusted.

Don't get me wrong; I'm not a complete wreck; I do take pride in myself and try to look nice on a regular basis. Nowadays, though, the only guys who really check me out are in their 50's and 60's. I assume they think they're still in the game and that I'm not out of their leagues. That's okay; I don't mind; at least someone's stroking my ego (besides the handsome Mr.4444 who always adores me, of course, and still thinks I'm hot, thank God.)

I saw a woman in Victoria Secret the other day who was probably 50-something and was dressed like a teenager; she looked ridiculous. I don't begrudge her some sexy lingerie (hey, I get that s-e-x is fun at any age), but I don't want to be that woman; the one who is trapped in a time-warp and trying to clawing her way back to youth.

I don't need to have anyone but Mr.4444 attracted to me, certainly, but I wonder...

*When does a woman decide she doesn't need to look hot anymore and just needs to be presentable or, at best, nice looking in a regal, grandma kind of way? What is the cut-off age? Is it 50? 60?

*When should I stop blow-drying my shoulder-length, blond-from-a-bottle hair and start making weekly appointments for my blue rinse-and-set?

*When do my skirts need to fall below the knee (and no exceptions)?

*When can I start farting out loud and pretending I don't hear it?

*When will I know it's time to stop showering and just spritz with body spray?

As my friends, will you please let me know??

Do me a favor, will you?

I'm working on a little Christmas present, and I'll need something from other bloggers in order to make it. Will you please send me links to one or two of your favorite posts from the past month or so? If you don't get around to it until later and just want to email them, that's fine, too.

I'd appreciate it very much :) Thanks.

mrs4444 a t new.rr.com

Do Tennis Balls Grow on Trees?

[I'm only kidding--Those are not tennis balls. heehee]

As a reward for your loyal reading--a short post today :) This comes to you from my sister, Michelle. Notice anything goofy about this apple tree in her neighbor's yard? (Hint: It was taken on Saturday, November 21st, in Wisconsin.) Almost looks more like a Christmas tree than an apple tree, no? (Thanks, Michelle :)

WTH?!

Check out this little cutie. Never mind that she's about four years old, is wearing an adorable outfit and has a pacifier in her mouth. (It was 9:30pm, after all, but that's beside the point.)

If this were your little girl, how far would you let her get away from you in a mall before you freaked out?

Three feet?

Ten feet?

Two stores?

Unlimited?

I went shopping with my MIL tonight and came out of a store to find this little girl standing alone in the busy mall. I approached her and asked, "Where's your mommy?" She just stared at me. I looked all around and saw no one looking for a small preschooler. I asked, "Is your mommy in that store?" gesturing towards the store I had just come out of. She shook her head. I wasn't sure what to do; she didn't look very upset, but I certainly couldn't just leave her standing there. However, there was no one to claim her.

I took a short walk, all the while on the lookout for a desperate, fearful mother. There was none to be found. I approached the nearby kiosk salesman and asked if it was his daughter. He answered in the negative.

My MIL and I stood there with that little girl for 2-3 minutes. During this time, she just kind of wandered around; I didn't want to put my hands on her, so I just kept calling her back over by me. I took her photo in a moment of "Now what do we do?!"

A mall cop strolled by, and I called him over, "This little girl is by herself." He looked interested and approached us but said nothing. I asked the next kiosk salesman if he knew the little girl. He replied, "No, but I think her mom is in that store over there; I saw her go in there a little while ago. She's pushing a stroller."

I left the little girl with my MIL and walked down to the store, two doors down. About twenty feet inside the store, I saw a woman with a single child in a double stroller. The mom and her friend were admiring some sweaters and laughing. "Are you missing someone?" I called to her.

That's when I expected her to freak out a little, suddenly realizing her small child was not where she had expected. However, she did not turn around and look towards the stroller in surprise. Instead, she turned to me, pointing the direction her daughter was in. She nonchalantly replied, "No. She's just down there."

Uh, yes, Ma'am, she is "down there"-two doors down, wandering the mall on her own, and you're worrying about your fall wardrobe, you dumbass! [Notice there are no quotes here. I said it inside my head.] Did I mention that it was 9:30pm?

Finally, she casually walked to the doorway and called something to her daughter in (annoyed, yet calm) Spanish and gestured for her to join her. The little girl ignored her. She apparently then decided that her child was worth a little attention, because only then did she leave the store and go retrieve her daughter. She said not a word to me, and I turned and joined my MIL.

I'm sorry--I know we lose sight of our children in stores sometimes, but what is up with her lack of concern over her child? Am I missing something??

Friday Fragments, Episode #71

OK. I admit it. I am addicted.

My name is Cyndy, and I'm a Fragaholic. (Hi, Cyndy!)

It's been one week since my last Frag, and I can't hold out any longer.

Thanks, Dysfunctional Mom! You really were true to your word when you named your blog Putting the Fun in Dysfunctional :) Your intro last week was entertaining, so I'm stealing it. K? Thanks.

In the words of DMom, It's Fragging Time! [Confused? Click on the button above for more info on FF.]

***My sister, Geri (who does not have a blog) shared this funny story in a comment last week on my Detention: A Cure for Gas?! post:

This reminds me... We overheard a mom at a buffet restaurant tell a woman sitting across from her this little gem when her little boy was off getting food, "When we were training him he hollered 'Hey mommy. I am playing with my penis cuz I am pooping and it has nothing to do."

That comment was my absolute favorite of the week, Sis! Thanks!

***My sister Michelle doesn't have a blog anymore, but she does have some awesome fragments. Here's one that she posted on her Facebook page this week (Logan is her 10-year-old, and Caden is 8.):

When I was little, I copied everything my sister [Judy] did, and she hated it. She wasn't as smart as Logan. He has "copyrighted" all his Lego creations. Caden can't copy them unless he "buys the copyright." And good little Caden abides by the law. I helped Caden out a little by telling him that, technically, a copyright has to be purchased. Then I got to hear them argue about how Caden didn't have to obey, because, "It's illegal, Logan!" heehee

I think I'll give my Favorite Friday Fragmenter award this week to Geri and Michelle. Keep up the fraggin'!

***Don't you hate it when you find an event in your calendar about which you have no clue? I had one of those this week. Thankfully, I figured it out at the last minute, but that was a close one!

***Not sure if I'm alone in this or not, but I find the new Blogger post editor to be nothing special and in fact annoying. I tried it for about three weeks and decided to return to the original. When they add video uploading and spellcheck back in, then I'll think about trying the new one again. Until then, forget it.

***Loved this post from NieNie this week.

***For the record, I am loving my body shaper from Amon. It's super comfortable and makes me feel slim, yet not like I'm being strangled. The only trouble I've had is that I have to adjust my butt cheeks back under a couple of times per day, but it's worth it. (If you have a big butt, forget about it! (Fortunately, that's not my problem.) I especially like that my clothes move over the fabric, but it's not so slippery that I have to fight with my pants to keep them up! Very nice. Tracie, I hope you like yours, too! :)

***I was helping Mr.4444 dust off the shoulders of his rarely-worn suit coat as he was heading off to Kyle's friend's Nate's Confirmation (Mr.4444 is his sponsor.) He observed, "It's nice to put a suit on for something other than a funeral for a change." Can't argue with that!

***Until a few months ago, we'd had cats for the past 18 years. If I could, I'd sing from the rooftops--"No more hairballs on the carpet! No more smelly litter box and scattered litter to clean up! And no more cat-tongue prints in the butter on the counter in the morning!" In case you didn't catch that, I don't miss having cats.

***I found this photo disturbing even before reading Hallie's fragment last week, "If my kid looked across the table at me like this, I'd sht myself where I stood. Sht myself as I ran screaming from the room. Who knew Damien liked to color?" Thanks, Hallie, for making me LOL!

Looking for a Fragaholics Anonymous group? You won't find one here, but you will find a fan club! Link up here and join in! [Sorry, but this McKlinky is for Friday Fragments posts, only. Others will be deleted.]

Packers Prelude

Before every Packers home game, we know game time is approaching when we hear this overhead...(turn up your volume).



I don't know what they're called, but I call them "Wow!" They do laps over our house several times in the 30 minutes or so before they do their flyover of Lambeau Field, and we always run out and admire them at least once or twice; they're so impressive.

This Sunday, I'll be serving beer at Stand #105. If you're at the game, stop by for a cold one to benefit Tinytown Music Boosters!! :)

Mostly-Wordless Wednesday

Kyle started swim season on Monday. This kinda puts a damper on that....

In case you can't make it out, the top bump is his left ankle bone. The bottom bump is...well....let's just call it painful. Something tells me he won't be jumping off of the blocks, pushing off the wall, or wearing his practice flippers real soon...

...which is a shame, because these size-14 flippers can do some damage of their own! :)

Don't worry....it's just a "bad sprain." He's got plenty of time left in the season to recover.

And if I know this kid, he'll be in the water by Friday.

Prayer Request

Poor Yaya...the birth mother changed her mind and decided to keep the baby. What an ugly rollercoaster ride. Please keep Yaya in your prayers if you are so inclined. Thanks.

Food for Thought

I'm a student council adviser at the middle school where I work, and every year, we organize a food drive to benefit our local pantry.  Last week was the big drive, and it was our best yet; we collected 1206 canned goods, plus a little bit of cash. One of the motivations we offered kids for bringing in food was raffle tickets (one for each item) for chances to win daily prizes that had been donated. Obviously, that little motivation helped.

Each morning, student council members came in early to help set up our collection tables.  On Thursday, a 7th grade member "Kelly" breezed through the doorway with a big paper bag obviously full of food. She gushed,

"I brought a ton of food; we will never eat any of this stuff!"

The way she said it implied that the food was less than desirable stuff.  I asked,

"Would anyone eat it?" and she quickly replied, in a Duh!-Are-you-insane? sort of tone, "No."

"You should think about what you just said," I suggested gently, and she shrugged her shoulders. Then we got busy on our task at hand, so it went no further, but I couldn't shake the conversation.

I'm ashamed to admit that before I became involved in the food drive, I, too, gave little thought to grabbing only the stuff we didn't want from our pantry for food donations. I could tell myself that I was helping out; that some people like lima beans, sauerkraut, olives, and some people don't care that cans are dented, but what I was really doing was giving for me; giving only what would not inconvenience my shopping schedule, so that I could tell myself I was a good person without having to go out of my way for anyone. Like Kelly, I was giving no thought to my shallow contribution, yet I was taking credit for being generous.

If you are feeling good about cleaning out your pantry of things neither you nor your family members would eat, that is not noble; it's cheap and selfish. If you truly want to feel good about yourself, take from your pantry items that you'll need to replace, not just those you don't want.  Give conscious thought to what you're choosing; is it going to truly help the pantry, or is it just going to collect dust there, too? 

If you really want to help, add desired items for your local pantry to your shopping list. If you cannot afford to buy a lot, try buying just one needed item, like a jar of peanut butter, canned tuna or other protein, 100% fruit or vegetable juice; or better yet, donate cash. Your time is worth something, too; consider helping out at your local pantry.

Because it feels good to clean out your pantry, but it feels even better to know you are making a real difference.

Weekly Winners/Sundays in My City

Need a vacation but can't afford it? Visit Unknown Mami to live vicariously through Sundays in My City contributors. Then stop by Sarcastic Mom's place to see photographic genius at its best in Weekly Winners (that's Lotus's stuff and most others who participate--I'm just along for the ride.)

It's slim pickins this week... Here's what I've got...

This little guy was a very well-behaved audience member at Singing in Wisconsin, a choral gathering of choir kids from all over Wisconsin. (Made me remember my days of finger-sucking and stinky blanket sniffing.)

I was only there for four songs and had to then whisk Kendall off to another choral event (at which the lighting was so poor I could not get a decent pic without being rude and using a flash. Video of Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy was out of the question, too, unfortunately.)

Took this one outside the gas station in Tinytown. I figured that not all towns have piles of apples for sale everywhere you look. Know what they're for? (No fair guessing if you have apples for sale at your local Shell Station.)

And finally, after state testing, a couple of my students still loved me and took advantage of a rare opportunity to write on my whiteboard.  Obviously, this one's my favorite :)

And here's some wonderful news to kick off the week--Yaya's 7-year labor will soon be over! Very soon (and unexpectedly), she and her husband Josh will be the proud parents of a brand-new baby boy SO happy for you Yaya!! Congratulations :)

Have a great, sunny, happy, successful, fun-filled week, everybody!!

Thanks!

Thanks, Lena, at Simply Fabulous Blogger Templates, for helping me clean up the mess I made of my background today!!!  You rock :)

The Post in Which My Innocent Image Is Forever Tarnished

Warning: If you think of me as sweet and innocent and prefer to keep it that way, skip this post.

When I turned 18, I tried to be the first of my eight siblings to stay home until I graduated high school.  I made it, but not much further; I ended up moving into the home of a generous friend and her family.  It was a wonderful arrangement for me; I had all the comforts of home and my needs met.  (Well, all needs except that I didn't have a place of my own.)

I digress here to say that I dated the same guy (on and off) all through high school and some time beyond. We were as serious about each other as two mixed up kids could possibly be.  This story involves him (and I'll call him Sam.)

So, let's just say Sam and I were looking for a place to make out talk one night after going out.  It was late (about midnight), and we knew we wouldn't have much privacy where I lived.  As luck would have it, my parents (who lived just two blocks away) had told me that they were going away for the weekend and taking my youngest sister with them. Perfect! We could sneak in and have a nice, empty house to ourselves.

Sam parked his car around the corner (we figured the neighbors might notice his car parked in my parents' driveway), and we walked to the back door.  I instructed Sam to wait there and told him I would sneak inside via the 2nd story landing and come downstairs to let him in. [Yes, I was quite familiar with sneaking up and down those posts leading to the landing. That's another blog post...]

So, I easily got into the second story door and tiptoed (out of habit) through the dark bedroom and headed down the stairs.  Half-way down the still-dark steps, which led to the hallway where my parents' bedroom was, I thought to myself, "Wouldn't it be funny if they were home?!"

That's when I heard the snoring.

HOLY CRAP! My heart instantly leaped into my throat, and I panicked. What should I do?  I decided to just keep going and get out of there. My mom was a light sleeper, and as I stepped on the last stair, she called out in the dark, "Who's there?!"

Because I'm brilliant, I replied, "Nobody!" and rushed through the tiny hallway, dining area and kitchen to blast out the back door, grabbing Sam and telling him to run with me.  We high-tailed it to his car and took off.

I think it took an hour for my heart rate to settle and my breathing to approach normal.  We took the chance of driving past the corner and saw all of the lights on downstairs in my parents' house.  I felt terrible. However, I also felt terrified, because I knew my dad would kill me if he knew it was me.

Finally, around 9am the next morning, following a guilt-filled, sleepless night, I dialed my parents' number, and Dad answered the phone. I hardly got the words out, "That was me last night," before he lit into me, "What in the hell were you thinking?!"  I replied,

"Sam and I got in a fight, and I wanted to be alone." (What?! It was at least half honest!)

He bought it.

I hope Mom's not reading this...

Friday Fragments, 70th Edition

Holy cow! Can you believe that I have spewed the bits and pieces from my mind 70 times?!  It's a wonder there's anything left (fragments, not brains, Silly), but don't worry--there's plenty of random thoughts on my list this week.  Thanks for joining me! I look forward to reading your offerings this week, too :)  [To learn more about Friday Fragments posts, click on the button above.]

***My Favorite Friday Fragmenter this week is Noisy, Colorful, Lively (Monica?), who wrote about her son Simeon and how the two of them bonded over Barbies for the first time....

"We had a nice time of play where my boy was learning to be sensitive and perhaps gain and eye for fashion when all of a sudden his doll popped up over the side of the truck and in his best three year old Barbie voice said: “oops! I go poo poo!!!” Then he bent his doll over  and made a loud ppbbfffrrrssttts!!! and other gaseous bathroom noises. Oh, how I do dearly love stinky, noisy, body function obsessed boys!"

Monica, this award is yours :)

I also have to share a favorite comment from this week.  In response to my post, Detention: A Cure for Gas?!, Tom (of Being Michael's Daddy) dropped this one:

"I'm glad you and your student could clear the air. I'm sure detention is no blast, but it sounds like it solved the problem. You really have to cut one student's behavior problems out, or it'll rip the whole class up."



Tom, you're a gas.  Enjoy this FFF award, (because I don't have one for Favorite Commenter yet.)

***I'm very happy with the outcome of the sentencing hearing for CG.  I don't know that he will learn anything in prison, but at least he won't be selling heroin to kids.

***We have a student who asks to use the restroom on a daily basis, as in 3-5 times a day (in addition to the ten other opportunities he has to relieve himself.) I always say no, because a) he has no medical documentation of a health issue, b) He also says, "Please?! It's an emergency!!!" and c) because I am just that mean.

**There's a website I discovered this week called My Parents Were Awesome.  This site is a great place to go for a smile. It publishes reader-solicited photos of people's parents when they were young and cool (you know, before dentures and Bengay.)  I highly recommend My Parents Were Awesome.

***When I was in 5th grade, there was an early-developing student named Pam in my school.. It was assumed that because she had breasts, she must be a sexually active.  How messed up is that?!  I know I participated in gossip about Pam, and I feel bad about that. I hope I get the chance one day to apologize.

***Oops! How could I forget my Amon Giveaway!  I wore my Body Shaper twice this week and will write my review this weekend, but I can say that I wholeheartedly love it!  And TRACIE is going to find out why! (Tracie, email me, and I'll give you the scoop on how to spend your $50 Amon winnings!!!)  Thanks, everybody, for entering, and don't forget that the code KISS10 will give you a 10% discount at Amon.

Well, my head is mostly-empty now. Want to share your FRIDAY FRAGMENTS post and meet some new bloggy buddies? Link up here and then go introduce yourself! [Sorry, but non-FF posts will be deleted.]

Thousand Words Thursday

I saw this shirt at the football game last week.

I think it's pretty likely that a grown man didn't come up with the idea.

For more pictures that "say a thousand words," visit Jen's place, Cheaper Than Therapy :)

He's Sorry Now, Alright!

Finally, some closure for my friend Molly, who lost her son Ryan on October 27, 2008...

Green Bay Press Gazette Headline:  G---- sentenced to 15 years in prison

Published : Monday, 09 Nov 2009, 4:24 PM CST

Reporter: Robert Hornacek  [with my commentary]

GREEN BAY - When 19-year-old CG made his way into the courtroom where he would learn his sentence, He smiled to his friends and family. Those smiles quickly turned to tears as he addressed the court.  [You laughed in the face of Molly's grief for weeks, both figuratively and literally. I do not feel sorry for you in the least. You're a scumbag.)]

"I'd like to say sorry to the Rockstroh family for the death of Ryan. I can't imagine the pain they're going through emotionally and mentally over the last year," G said. [That's right; you can't imagine, because you have no heart.  You're a scumbag.] "I'd like to apologize to my family for the things I've put them through for the last 11 months." [I feel some pain for his family as well, but I do wonder what kind of parenting results in a young man as heartless as CG.]

In September, a jury found G guilty of first degree reckless homicide for supplying heroin to 17-year-old Ryan Rockstroh. Rockstroh died of a heroin overdose in October of 2008. [Just to be clear, I know Ryan is responsible for his poor choices.  That said, C's actions contributed to Ryan's death.]

At the start of the sentencing hearing, Rockstroh's mother talked about her son,

"He was loved and adored by so many and all of us are suffering terribly," Molly Rockstroh said. She told the court she wanted to forgive G for supplying the heroin that her son died from, but says she could not after she heard witnesses testify G continued dealing after Ryan's death. [It seems both C and Molly could use our prayers on this account.]

"The fact that you continued to sell this lethal drug to teenage addicts after one of them had already died is despicable and appalling," Molly Rockstroh said to G in court. "The fact that my son's death meant nothing to you, that you repeatedly refused to acknowledge your role in this terrible tragedy is unforgivable." [Sure, you say you're sorry now, but you are not sorry for the loss of Ryan; you're sorry that you're being held accountable for your actions. The time to be apologetic was the day Ryan died, but instead, you picked up the phone just hours from his death to call his parents and ask innocently, "How did he die?" Always CYA.  There's no covering it now, and I'm glad of that.]

The defense asked Brown County Circuit Judge Hon. William Atkinson to give G a three to five year prison sentence. [Because they are asinine.]  Instead, Atkinson went along with the recommendation of the district attorney's office and sentenced Gogos to 15 years in prison and 10 years of extended supervision.[God bless this man.]

"When a person sells drugs and then learns of a death because of that sale, and then sells again, that's evil," Atkinson said. "You're an evil person. You are without a conscience." [Judge Atkinson, you are my hero today.]

Besides being a punishment to G, Atkinson said he wants this sentence to send a message to other people who are selling heroin that if they're caught and convicted they will be spending a significant amount of time in prison. [It's a drug skyrocketing in popularity because of its affordability compared to Oxycotin and other drugs. Harsh penalties are just one way to send a message that our community won't tolerate drug dealers.]

Rockstroh's family left the courthouse without comment. G's lawyer and family declined comment. G will be back in court later this week on additional drug charges. [See, because you just couldn't quit.  How sorry were you the last time you did time for selling heroin, C?  Obviously, not sorry enough.]

On the bright side, maybe the verdict will provide Molly some closure.

To read the original story, click here.

Detention, A Cure for Gas?!

[The following is one of my favorite posts, originally published 10/07. The chuckle is worth the repeat!]

Yesterday, I wrote a referral for a 6th grade (female) student who just won't stop farting out loud in class. (Yes, I said farting. And female.) So, the principal gets wind of it (haha) and sends me a note, inquiring as to why I took such a drastic measure in response to a natural human function that is certainly not within the child's control. Here follows our email exchanges:

Me to The Boss:
In regard to the referral for Susie “passing gas on a regular basis,” “polite sounds only” are part of her Behavior Plan, given her desire to fit in socially. Sorry I forgot to add more detail to the referral. I’m trying to teach her to cope with her gas problem in a polite way (such as going to the restroom or stepping out in the hallway.) However, she doesn't make any effort to try my suggestions. On a regular basis, she stands in front of me (or her peers) and makes very loud, distracting “emissions.” She always follows it up with a big smile and “I knowwwww….” I phoned home, and her mom was fully supportive of the referral/detention as one thing to try, since other interventions have not worked. Last year, this behavior was simply ignored by her teachers. I’m just trying to address it. Detention may seem extreme, but I’m just trying it out. I’m not trying to toot my own horn, but I think it’s a good idea. Hopefully, she won’t make a stink in detention, and this will all be behind us.

The Boss's Reply:

Barb,

Thank you for the explanation. I thought something smelled a little funny with that referral. I hope I am not the butt of any jokes regarding it.

The Boss

My Response:
Don’t worry. I would never make fun of an old fart.

His Reply:
I’m glad you’d PASS on that!

Me: I'd better quit farting around and get back to work!


Teaching middle school is such a gas!

P.S. Update: After this student served this detention, she never committed such a foul again! In light of the fact that this was a pattern the previous year (at her other school), I am quite pleased with the result. Guess someone just needed to put and end to it!

Eye-Openers, College Style

Our campus visit to U.W.G.B. last month was an eye-opening experience:

*Twenty years changes things. A lot. For my first semester at UWGB, I wrote a check for $495.  Kyle's tuition for his first semester (assuming he for-sure chooses G.B.) will be approximately $3,300.

*Walking ten minutes (from dorm to classroom) is beautiful on a nice, fall day. I'll bet it's a beotch in February. Note to Kyle: Purchase parking pass.

*At one point, someone in our tour asked how much the parking pass at UWGB costs. The admissions rep replied, "How much to you pay for parking now [at your high school]?" and the answers varied dramatically. For example, Kyle said, "Ten bucks a year." A young man from Eden Prairie, Minnesota said, "$350," and his dad confirmed. Seriously?! They pay $350 per year for their kid to park a car at his high school? Is it me, or is this absolutely insane?!

*During the tour, we visited my former place of employment, the UWGB library.  I couldn't resist telling Kyle that Mr.4444 and I had a "really good time" (once) in a private study room at said library.  Since I never talk this way, he was taken aback and severely traumatized. (I LMAO!)

I've learned a lot through the process of college applications, etc. If you ever have questions, feel free to ask me, but the person I went to is Chris, Dad of Divas, because he really knows his stuff!  Thanks, Chris!

Weekly Winners/Sundays in My City

Sundays in My City is a weekly meme hosted by Unknown Mami, who happens to live in San Francisco and always had plenty of pics to share.  Visit Sarcastic Mom, too, for photo favorites from this week.

All of my shots took place on Saturday, which was a very busy day!  It started with veggie cutting at our house--we host this important step in making our bi-annual Boy Scout Booyah fundraiser.  Scouts and their dads showed up to help cut vegetables for the booyah, which is a regional chicken soup of sorts. [For more about booyah, read this post.]

The boys worked hard for two solid hours and did it with smiles (even the clean-up).

In the afternoon, I headed to Tinytown, where our high school football team played a division playoff game!  I got there in time to catch the tail end of the tailgating, which included a live polka band and dancing. Of course, the kids always have a great time....

I think Lady Gaga would have enjoyed this little "polka face!"

Get it? Lady Gaga....polka face?  (I crack myself up!)

The energy was very high, of course, and there was plenty of school spirit.

The Seniors knew how to make the most of the occasion...

Kyle had a "press pass," as he is a sports editor for the Tinytown News...

Unfortunately, this was my view of the game (from the Sports Boosters concession stand)

which was okay, because I had fun...

...and we didn't win :(

Score:  42-21  (On the bright side, we were playing the defending State Champions.)

Hope you had a winning weekend.

Visit Unknown Mami for other Sundays in My City scenes from cities across this country (and beyond) and Sarcastic Mom for more Weekly Winners.

What I Know Now...

"Wipe that look off your face!"

Every time Dad said this to my child self, it struck my heart with fear, because I really and truly had no idea what he was talking about.  I was scared shtless at those times. Today, I know he didn't like me looking at him like he was some kind of monster; he didn't like the fear in my eyes.  Back then, though, I was completely bewildered.

And, of course, he blamed me for looking at him that way, when he could have easily put an end to it by ending his tirade, taking me in his arms, and apologizing. I loved him and would have forgiven him. Instead, I was left to search my mind for other faces to wear, finding none that fit. It was like running for cover in a hailstorm but finding none.

Other times that Dad was angry, I remember the look on his face; like he was incredibly frustrated with how inadequate I was. His scowl matched his words, "What the hell's the matter with you?!" Sometimes, I understood his complaint; what was wrong with me?


As I grew older, I carried these experiences in a heavy "suitcase" that I took everywhere with me. It was heavy, wheels were broken, and whenever I opened it, items spilled out.  And what I learned about that was that although the suitcase was invisible to me, many other people could see it. (Thankfully, one of those people was a good therapist, who taught me how to unpack and decide which items fit me best and which could be discarded.)

While I have these memories and they are a part of who I am, I have never let them weigh me down. Instead, I've used them as something that lifted me up. I'm not sure when I knew it for sure, but I knew that it was not about me; it was his own personal demons that caused Dad to lash out so.  Eventually, I stopped valuing Dad's opinion of me and instead adopted that of the many other people in my life who loved me.  (Of course, I didn't learn this without some therapy and hard work years ago, and that therapy only came after lots of poor choices on my part, as well as some painful relationships.)
Today, the baggage I carry fits in one of those lightweight, drawstring bags and is barely noticeable to me or anyone else (I hope.) And I've even become a travel agent of sorts, helping others plan their own journeys.

Who knew that Dad was a career builder?! :)

These experiences are part of my foundation, and I really believe that without them, I would not be the parent I am today. I know the precious gifts that my children are and feel nothing but empathy for my dad.

He was a man with baggage of his own.

Friday Fragments

So many fragments, so little time....Welcome to the happiest place on earth come Friday--the place we unload all of our random thoughts/worries/observations/bits of wisdom from the week so that we can relax and enjoy the weekend. I'm ready to let 'er rip. How about you?  (To learn more about Friday Fragments, click on the green button above :)

***Grrrr. I hate it when the last minute or two of a show is cut off when DVR'd. I'm sure it's deliberate, and I do not appreciate it!

***If you like a challenge, you will either love or hate this game...Tic Tac Toe

***Weaselmomma doesn't fragment often, but when she does, it's good. This one made my FFF this week!

"I am used to being asked, "You lip, too?" every time I get my eyebrows waxed, but now, to have, "You toes, too?" added to the list hits below the belt." 

Poor Weaselmomma. At a certain point, we just can't get the hair to grow in the right places, can we?

I also enjoyed Gladys's comment about her annoying dog:


"You know what I hate? Is when my dogs bring something dead up to the house and I can’t distinguish what it is. This morning I swear they were chewing on a part of a human skull that still had its hair on it."

Can't you just picture that?! Yikes! I decided to give the Favorite Friday Fragmenter award to you, too, Gladys.  (And next time, choose a better place to bury your ex-husband. :)




***Got pumpkins to get rid of? Trying making my yummy, unusual Sweet and Salty Pumpkin Seeds!

***BlueViolet, of A Nut in a Nutshell is having a giveaway with lots of chances to win The Encyclopedia of Immaturity, Vol. 2.  (And who doesn't know someone who needs that book for Christmas?! Go for it!

***And speaking of Giveaways, have you entered mine?  Amon Maternity is offering a $50 merchandise credit, which is awesome, because you'll be able to buy more than one item with that, so you can get your own belly under control and even help a jelly-bellied friend in the process! (no pregnancy necessary)  It's simple to enter, and your chances of winning as of Thursday evening are 1 in 14, which is pretty danged good!


***I helped my mom by handing out Halloween candy at her house last Saturday.  She gets about 100 trick-or-treaters each year, so she figured buying a big bag of 200 pieces would be fine.  It would have been, too, if the Tootsie Rolls in the bag had been bigger than Tic Tacs. When the bucket was half empty, Mom told me to "back down to one each." Seriously?!  Mom, sorry; I was not going to offer a 13-year-old kid with a chainsaw a 1-inch Tootsie Roll and a smile. I ended up cleaning out her candy bar dish from the table for the teenagers and defied her order and gave TWO to each little tyke. It all worked out nicely, and her windows are perfectly free of soap.

***I cannot tell you how EXCITED I am about the fact that our choir teachers have hatched a brainstorm of an idea:  the first-ever Tinytown Community Christmas Concert!  That means anyone in the community may join the choir and sing in a concert on December 22nd!  I have been whining for years about how I wish we had a community choir in our school (Heck, I'd settle for someone's garage!) I just want to sing, and now I will have the chance! Also, Kendall is joining, too!  That means we are going to be singing together, and I get choked up just thinking about it.  Stay tuned...

***I think it's rude to not have a clue what Friday Fragments are but link up your non-FF post AND not even leave at least a comment. Hello?--Read the directions referred to at the top of the page. (I know that's not very gracious of me, but come on; I hate that.)  (Don't worry--I deleted the links.)  Link up your FRIDAY FRAGMENTS post here--The more the merrier!

Thousand Words Thursday: Good, Clean Fun

My mom had this photo hanging on her bulletin board at home. I had never really noticed it until last weekend, and I find it delightful; it's mom and her sisters (and one SIL, who after all this time is a sister-sister, right?). It was taken through the sauna window at the Virch family's cottage in Big Bay, Michigan some time between 1960 and 1985.  It doesn't take a brain surgeon to figure out which one is Mom.

Think these girls had any fun together?

For more "pictures that say a thousand words," visit Jen, at Cheaper Than Therapy.

The Perks of Having a Big Belly-Amon Giveaway!

I recently heard from Vanessa (of Amon Maternity) who was wondering if I might be willing to review one of their maternity bands.  While I think I could pull off being pregnant (about 4 months), I decided to admit that I am not pregnant.  I did offer to share two belly bands with pregnant friends from work and see what they think about them, and Vanessa was game! She sent me two (one flesh-toned, and one black) for my friends/co-workers, Nikki and Sarah.  Here's Sarah. Can you believe she is nine months pregnant?  (I know; I'd slap her, but she's way too sweet and nice.)

Sarah loves her Amon band; she let me know so before I even had a chance to ask her. Here's what she wrote in an email to me:


"It's very comfortable. It stretches with me as I move and as the baby moves, so it feels very soft and comfortable.  it’s also supportive.  I notice that my back feels less stressed and it hold up my big belly in front very nicely.  I’ve worn it about 8-9 hours during the day and sometimes I forget I have it on.  Lastly, it smoothes out my belly and makes it look nice and “beach ball” like :) "

Nine months pregnant, Sarah stood up in a wedding last weekend and felt really good about not having her belly button sticking the front of her bridesmaid dress out. (Hey, it's the little things!)

My friend, Nikki, chose the black belly band, and I can honestly say that she is thrilled. She's a big fan of long skirts (she always looks terrific) and told me that because of the Amon band, she can wear her favorite skirts again!  I'm not sure if that's one of the advertised features, but it's Nikki's favorite; she simply puts her skirt on (partially unzipped) and wears the band over it, which keeps the skirt up nicely, and both are easily hidden by her top.  Nikki likes that the belly band is not only very comfortable but saves her the money of having to buy new maternity skirts for work. (The band itself is very affordable, at $23-$25.)  I wish I could show you the cute pics that I took of Nikki wearing the band (and I wish I could blame my spacing out and losing them on Nikki's pregnancy, but it doesn't work that way.)

Of course, I'm not stupid; I know to take advantage of a free offer, so I said yes to trying out Amon's Forgive Body Shaper.  Today was my first day wearing it, and I want to do some experimenting before I write about my experience, so I leave with with Nikki and Sarah's testimonials. 

When I was pregnant, bubbled-out belly buttons were just part of the territory; we had to let it all hang out (or use duct tape, I suppose.) Back pain, too, was part of the package.  I almost wish I could be pregnant again, so I could  try out the Amon Belly Band. Maybe I could fake it?

Who am I kidding? I could totally pull it off.  (More on the "Forgive" Body Shaper later...)


Vanessa has kindly offered a $50 merchandise credit to the lucky winner of my giveaway! You could use it to buy one of Amon's maternity bands and/or a body-shaper.  Here's how to enter:

One Entry:  Leave a comment on this post
Extra entries:  Follow Amon on Twitter and/or Friend them on Facebook. Tweet this post for another entry. (Let me know in the comments if you take advantage of the extra entries.)

You are also welcome to use this coupon code for a 10% discount on all purchase:  KISS10

The Winner will be announced on Friday, November 14th, so enter until midnight the night before, and spread the word!



[P.S.  For what it's worth, I want you to know that I was also offered incentive/payment for any future sales of the AMON product as a result of my post. However, I declined this offer; I felt it would interfere with the credibility of my review.]

Tuesday Treasure

When Kendall was two and Kyle was five, I asked my multi-talented photographer friend, Glenn Sanderson, to take our photo as a gift for Mr.4444's birthday.  The results are treasures to all of us. I'm sure you'll see why...

The pics were too big to throw on the scanner, which is why I had to take photos of the photos to post here.

Thank you, again, Glenn, for sharing your gift.  Twelve years later, it keeps on giving...

Serves Him Right

Several years ago, Mr.4444 attended a company Christmas party in Canada.  (I was unable to join him, as Wisconsin is a long way from Canada, and I could not take the time off from work.)  When I spoke to him on the phone next morning, he told me that he had had a terrible accident, slipping on some ice and tearing his hamstring!  The poor guy could barely walk (and had a very long, uncomfortable flight home.)

When he limped into the house, my heart went out to the poor guy--he was really hurting!  In the next couple of days, Mr.4444's leg turned the most horrific colors, and he spent a lot of time in bed, which was a good place for him, because we soon got an incredible ice storm of our own; everything outside was covered in at least 1/4 inch of ice.

Lying in bed, Mr.4444 was worriedly listening to the storm outside when he heard and felt a huge CRASH on the house! Imagine the pain he felt in the moment the unseen object made impact with the roof above him, jerking Mr.44444 into spasms of agony!  (He nearly blacked out from the pain.)  After he wiped the sweat from his face and crawled out of bed, he put on his slippers (yes, that's a hint of the hell to come) and hobbled outside, carefully, ever so carefully maneuvering the glazed sidewalk to investigate.

A giant pine leaned against the house; a large, gaping hole in the roof opened it's mouth to the driving rain.

Of course, slippers did not get their name just because they are easy to put on; in spite of his cautious movements, Mr.4444 suddenly found himself flat on his back on the sidewalk, staring up into the rain, wind whipping the trees overhead, and feeling more vulnerable than he had ever felt in his life.  (He cried.) Summoning every bit of strength that he had, he crawled back to the porch.

Only hours later, a contractor had patched up the roof, and Mr.4444 called me at work to let me know that things were fixed as well as they could be for the time being (at least for the roof.)

A week later, his conscience got to him.  What conscience, you might ask? The poor man had suffered a serious injury to his leg, which had been exacerbated by the trauma of the home invasion of the pine variety.What could he have to feel guilty about?!

It seems Mr.4444 did have a badly-injured hamstring, but it was not an icy fall that had caused it.  Sheepishly, he admitted that he had suffered the injury not on a sidewalk, but on a dance floor.  Yes, my show-off husband had been "busting a move" when he instead busted his hamstring...

doing the splits!

Go ahead--LYAO. I did.