101 Kid Bad Luck Signs

“Mom, there should be a book called 101 Kid Bad Luck Signs to prepare kids everywhere.   The first one would be when a teacher calls a kid out into the hallway.”  She gave me a knowing look. “That’s NEVER good.”

Serious Conversations

I let the kids listen to a Christian comedian that we love. Sure, I hadn’t heard the entire thing yet, but we’d watched his previous comedy so I didn’t give it a second thought.

I’m in the other room which has the magical property of making the kids think I’m not in listening range.
I’m working when I hear the comedian tell a story about getting the word “prostate” and “prostrate” mixed up.
My eldest child’s friend gasps and turns the recording off.

“What? What? What does that mean?” my youngest begs.

“That’s a conversation for you to have with your parents when you’re much older…like when you’re 30,” the friend responds.

“But YOU’RE not thirty,” my youngest counters.

“Yeah, but we ride the bus,” my eldest deadpans.

End of conversation. At least the conversation I heard, because I had to run upstairs to keep them from hearing me laugh.


Sometimes you are so used to something that you forget how others might see it.

I made hummus today. And a few stray chickpeas managed to escape my food processor.

“Mom, what is this?”

“A chickpea,” I said, as I added some cumin, cayenne, and garlic.


“A chickpea,” I said again, a little exasperated since I was busy. “It’s also called a garbanzo bean.”

“Mom, let’s just stick with garbanzo bean. Chick pee just sounds disgusting.”

I frowned, until suddenly, I burst out laughing and couldn’t stop. And now, I can never call a garbanzo bean a chickpea again.

That Time of Year Again

You know it’s cold and flu season when the candy jar is filled with cough drops.  Even worse when family members say, “Good idea!”


I hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving being thankful for all you had, and then a wonderful Black Friday trying to get stuff you don’t have. ( ;

Besides the coughing and sniffing, we had a wonderful time eating and hanging out and decorating.

And from what I sense will be the first and last (no sleep!) annual tradition of sleeping by the Christmas tree, I attempted to take a picture of the kiddos in their sleeping bags basking in the glow of the tree only to find out that my kids deem pictures in their pajamas to be off limits – “We require 36 hours notice for those kind of pics,” my daughter said.  Sniff sniff.  They make me proud, I’ve taught them so well.

Do we have gifts under the tree?  Uh no.  As the kids’ friends who drop by always find out, they’re empty.  I put empty bags underneath until we have real gifts.  Why?  Because it always reminds me of this moment years ago … fast forward to the last 20 seconds if you’re short on time.
And, apologies on the quality… it was taken years before HD and good internet speed.