If you throw your people in the water, would you jump in, too?

Annie likes to help me get her bath started. "I coming," she yells as she runs down the hall. Usually she grabs a stuffed animal or two (her favorite is the big yellow crab my sister brought her back from Germany) that I have to rescue before they get thrown in the water.

Tonight she grabbed a handful of Little People and took off to the bathroom, yelling, "Weady??" I guess she was warning the Little People...

She put them on the side of the tub, then methodically threw them into the water one by one. When she finished, she threw her arms up in the air, looked distraught, and yelled, "My people!! MY PEOPLE!!!!"

It was a little sad. And oddly reminiscent of Charlton Heston...

Blogging While Driving

I saw a Dr. Phil show earlier this week in which he discussed the evils of text messaging while driving. I'm convinced: it's dangerous and bad.

However, Dr. Phil must understand that when my son is saying funny/quirky things, I have to be able to write them down. In the car. Right away. Until he does a specific show about blogging while driving, I'm feeling okay about my actions.

Today's entry from the car (and no, I'm not in the car now. I wrote it long-hand in the car):

J: Mom, can you keep a secret?
Me: Umm...(long pause)...Yes. [No, I'll be blogging your secrets later.]
J: I'm a cyborg.
M: Oh. How can you tell?
J: I see the future when I close my eyes. And I'm faster than a speeding waistband. [Thanks for that, Captain Underpants. By the way, that Captain Underpants link is really fun.]
M: Um...okay.
J: I can also read minds. You're thinking that you love me.
M: Yes, I am.
J: And I can see double. [crosses eyes and stares at nose]
M: Are you sure you're a cyborg, Jake?
J: Yes, and it makes me a little sad.

Okay. My poor sad cyborg son.

You people are smarter than you look, I guess...

After a few complaints that the other Grammar Test was too easy, I've got this one to waste part of your day. Thanks to Ike (who scored 40/50) for finding it for me (who scored 43/50).

Have fun, you brilliant people.

Grammar Quiz! Yay!

Thanks to Snoa for the link to my favorite way to wake up in the morning: a cup of coffee and a grammar quiz:

You Scored an A

You got 10/10 questions correct. It's pretty obvious that you don't make basic grammatical errors. If anything, you're annoyed when people make simple mistakes on their blogs. As far as people with bad grammar go, you know they're only human. And it's humanity and its current condition that truly disturb you sometimes.

The It's Its There Their They're Quiz

(It's nice to have friends as nerdy as me.)

Our Labor Day Weekend

As I wait three more minutes before waking Jake up for a second (and final) time to get ready for school, I thought I'd take a minute (actually, three) to post a bit about our weekend.

First, you must know that Jake is without a doubt my kid. Not only does he have the whole, "Don't Hug Me Or Touch Me" thing (hereditary), but he's also terrible with details and descriptions (like me...and my mom...and my grandma, whose blackberry cobbler recipe according to her is something like, "You just put all the ingredients together and cook it."). Case in point: Jake spent Sunday night with his friend Luke. Monday morning when they woke up, Luke asked Jake what his dad looks like. Jake said, "I dunno. He has a goat on his face." Yes, a goat.

Apparently, before bed on Sunday night, Luke asked Jake if he'd like "a hug or a handshake" (they're in the same class at school, with the same teacher who asks them this question in the mornings). Jake (who was sleeping with a stuffed Captain Underpants) said, "Neither. But Captain Underpants will take a hug." So, he's warming up to the idea of hugs I guess.

Before Jake went to Luke's house, my grandma from Georgia came to visit with my parents. Below are some pictures from their stay. My grandma at 81 has enough spunk that I had to tell her twice to settle down. My parents will think I'm making that up when they read this, but it's true. Once, she was throwing a ball with the kids and kept nearly missing my candlesticks and picture frames. "Now, Grandma. You need to settle down with that ball," I warned. Then she grabbed Jake as he ran past and held on so tight that I think I saw tears come to his eyes, despite his giggles. "Now, Grandma. Don't hurt him. Grandma!! Let go of my son right now!" Seriously, I was just about to turn her over my knee. People who've said I'm like her don't know what they're talking about. I don't have her energy or (brute) strength at 32, I can't imagine I'll have it in 50 years. At one point, Jake said, "She's faster than me, and I thought she wouldn't be because she's so old."

Now he'll really be afraid when I tell him I'm going to send him to Georgia for her to raise.

Four generations. You see that look in Grandma's eyes? She's plotting her next move...


Annie, typical Annie, ready to go home with her Great-Grandma. I think she might have inherited her energy level.


Jake and Granddaddy at the crabapple tree.