I am sorry......

But dear blog readers..........I am swamped.
I am currently sitting in a pile of my own worn t shirts, feverishly bedazzling the initials of those whom I haven't bought gifts for, on them.

O.K. Not really.
But that's funny, isn't it? I crack me up.

Anyway, go and read what my sister wrote. It is so funny. And don't forget to read mine and Em's two cents in the comments section.

Cheers!
Melissa

So.....Deck them Halls an all that jazz....

It's December 11th. Right? Or is it the 12th? Ah- no matter. I'll know when I hit "post".

Christmas is coming.

And yet, I'm pretty much just sitting around, scratching.

At least that's what it feels like. Race is gone and the proverbial rug pulling that ensued has left me flat on my arse and feeling alot like the cat to your left.

I guess I'm getting some stuff done, but it just doesn't FEEL like Christmas yet. Race is just missed TOO much right now.

Christmas tree- check
Christmas cards-well...they are being created....so.....half-check
candles in windows-check
wreaths on windows/doors-check, check
Christmas lights on the house- damn-gotta do that
Christmas shopping- um...about half way. Let's just say that the UPS guy's gonna be seeing alot of us this week.
But no gingerbread house, no baking, no hot cocoa.....

I'm just having a hard time feeling "merry" with Race leaving so close to the holidays.It's hard to get my heart to focus. gah. (shaking it off)
But the sun is out today, so maybe we'll get out there and put up those lights!

Cheers!
Melissa

weird week

Yes. It has been a strange week.

Our heat pump tried to give up the ghost on December 1st.

DECEMBER 1ST , PEOPLE!!

We refused to let it die, and kept it on life support. One morning we woke up and it was 49 degrees INSIDE the house.

Since Christmas is upon us, we really chaffed at the $5000 + price tag for a new heat pump.

I began to invision the wailing children on Christmas morning as they woke to the realization that santa had come, but only left them a new heat pump. No cheerful Tiny Tim's here, I'm afraid.

So, with only the Christian charity of others left to depend upon, we called a dear friend to come out and have a look and tell us if we were just being taken for a ride here, or if, indeed this whole thing needed replacing.

Long Story-short: Our dear friend,(to whom I will forever after refer to as "Super-Engineer-Man", got us warm again for a part that cost less than $50. !!
Well....MERRY CHRISTMAS!!

DO you have any idea what a luxury it is to have heat, after you've been without it?
I feel like Paris Hilton.

In other weirdness this week, my oven door exploded, showering small glass shards in an amazing display all over the kitchen.

No, we don't know why.

I wasn't cooking in it. No one had touched it. Granted, the thing is 14 yrs old. But does that warrant a fireworks display of glass??? I think not. I contacted G.E. but they're not liable. But they WILL send out a replacement glass for $123 that they assure me I can replace myself.

Oh- and we think that our dog tried to die.

Yep. All this week.

But, having inherited healing powers from my mom, (which I use MUCH more selectivly), I was able to nurse the old guy back.

He is remarkably better today!

So. While I am glad that the weird week is over, I am also aware that this puts us so much closer to Race leaving again.
Tomorrow, all the guys are going caving with the scouts.
And after the week that we've had, I'm looking forward to some girl time with Savannah. Shopping therapy. That's what I need.
It's my curse.
I'll go trying to find gifts for everyone, and will only find the most AMAZING items.....................for ME! For ME!

It's a viscious circle. It's my cross to bear......and I accept it. (sigh)

Oh- and don't tell Savannah- I am taking her to see Twilight.
ahhhhhhh.........the obsessive teen love movie. (With the vampire twist??)

Cheers!
Melissa

Thankful

ALMIGHTY God, Father of all mercies,
we your unworthy servants give you most humble and hearty thanks
for all your goodness and loving-kindness to us and to all people;
We bless you for our creation, preservation, and all the blessings of this life;
but above all for your inestimable love
in the redemption of the world by our Lord Jesus Christ,
for the means of grace,
and for the hope of glory.
And we beseech you, give us that due sense of all your mercies,
that our hearts may be unfeignedly thankful,
and that we show forth your praise,
not only with our lips, but in our lives;
by giving up ourselves to your service,
and by walking before you in holiness and righteousness all our days;
through Jesus Christ our Lord,
to whom with you and the Holy Ghost be all honour and glory,
world without end. Amen.

I am so blessed with a wonderful family. My parents are the best people that I know. We had a wonderful Thanksgiving at their house, where they served 25 family and friends an amazing dinner. All the buying, preparation, cooking, and cleaning, is done by Mom and Dad with the help my sisters,myself, and our husbands and kids.
My parents are a constant reminder of true Christian charity. They always give selflessly, never expecting anything in return. They have always shown what it means to do "unto the least of these". Their example is humbling and challenging to me, and this one example of God's grace toward me is an overwhelming blessing.

Cheers!
Melissa

Funny. REALLY funny.

I am sitting here with Race, watching football.

But that's not the funny part.

The kids are all 3 at youth group this afternoon doing Rake'nRun. Where they go and rake the yards of some of the folks at the church for them. That's fun. But not funny.

Remember when I unashamedly told you about that little impromptu, and HIGHLY unusual, Girls Night a few weeks ago? It's always nice to hear the same event from another perspective, don't you think?

So I will risk more utter humiliation and judgement(and of course, the utter disdain of my stalker- commenter ,the "Observer" who makes it a rule to despise all things even remotely happy). But with that said, I refer you to my Sisters Blog. My sister. Whom it should be noted has the soul and rhythm of a young Aretha Franklin. She always has.

But in my defense, I feel that I need to stress that it's the hair moves that really do MAKE my dancing. It gives a sort of mesmerizing effect. Think-Julianne Hough, on dancing With The Stars.

Yeah....it's a lot like that. yep.

"You're Welcome", for the laugh.

Cheers!

Melissa

Grocery day

I always go to the same grocery store. It's close, it's supposed to be cheap, and typically I can find whatever I need. Everyone knows me there. I live out in the country so going somewhere that people actually know my family and carry on a conversation with me is just as important as being able to find organic canned tomatoes, ya know? It's where I hang.

But today....I went to Wal Mart.

Race and I used to HAVE to shop at Wal mart. During the...shall we say..the lean years(to be kind)? I was so happy when my grocery shopping could branch out a little bit. I could then peruse specialty and gourmet sections, and see foods from European countries. And my produce no longer all came from Argentina. And why is it that Wal Mart is so full of booger pickers?? You know what I'm talking about. You've seen it. ANd since when did the door "greeter" become a bitter, angry(ANGRY!), middle aged woman?

But today I went to Wal mart. And I saved money. Like....a considerable amount of money. Like a manicure's worth of money. Or an expensive shampoo's worth of money. This could be serious.

Whatever you spend the $$ on....dough is dough.

So...Welcome to Wal Mart, shoppers!

Have you started doing anything differently to save money recently?

Cheers!
Melissa

A Little Weekend Round up

It was good.

Race and the boys went camping with the Boy Scouts. It's an awesome thing to behold, these Boy Scout trips. The gear, the meticulous packing, the FOOD, the gear........the way that they can cram EVERYTHING they need into neat little bundles, while simulataneously leaving our household looking like Fred Sanford's front yard. Yes, it's quite a sight.

We have been incredibly blessed by this particular Troop. The Scoutmaster is the kind of man that you really WANT teaching your boys to become good leaders. He has an amazing amount of patience. He can fix or build anything, and he takes the time to share that knowledge in teaching these boys. He, along with the other dads that we've had the pleasure to get to know, are men of character. They know about hard work and responsibility, and we have just been so blessed to be a part of it all.

Savannah and I had a good weekend hanging out and watching movies, playing on the computer and organizing photos and things. It rained all weekend so we stayed in, made good things to eat and watched movies. We watched the old version of Little Women and the newer version of Pride and Predjudice, (even though we all know that the BBC version is the only REAL P&P). We watched some other stuff too, but these were by far the best. It was fun and relaxing and we needed it.

Savannah and I went to church this morning and then stopped by Starbucks on the way home for a latte.

The boys got home, emptied the car, emptied their packs and hit the bed exhausted. The only things that I have been able to ascertain about their weekend was that there was a killer Capture the Flag game and it was a long drive. Race is currently collapsed on the sofa watching football, Jackson is sound asleep, and Austin and Savannah have left for youth group.

It was the kind of weekend that left me thankful for God's grace. I have so many wonderful people in my life. It humbles me and makes me want to be better than I am.

Cheers!
Melissa

Peace and Quiet is tough to come by.

Race and I have been fighting for time together recently. These KIDS. These teens and tweens are like vultures. They're ALWAYS HERE. I mentioned before that we are taking a short hiatus from most of their activities, to sort of unwid a bit. But I think we have to start things back up sooner than planned.
They have begun to catch on to the fact that we enjoy being alone occasionally, so they try to swarm around us annoyingly, hoping that we will give in and send them off to do something that we had previously ruled against them doing.
We only allow X Box playing Saturday through Sunday after chores. TV is only after dinner and clean-up.

Stupid rules.

Anyway, we've gotten desperate for a little peace and quiet together, so we've begun to do the unthinkable.

We're RUNNING together.
Regularly.

Now normally, you couldn't make me run with ANYONE. Not even Jack Bauer.
Well, O.k., yeah, Jack Bauer. But as a general rule I HATE running.

Now, recently a few things have caused significant changes to this rule:

1. The aforementioned desperate need to spend a little one on one time with the Ultimate Alpha Male that *is* Race.

2. I'm gettin' close to 40 and let's just say.............. it ain't all stayin' where it used to stay. There seems to be....a SLIDING effect, if you will.

3. I would like to have a butt that is still recognizable as such.

and

4. I would like to be able to eat. (see #3)

So we are running together.

Here is where the vast and undeniable differences between Race and myself come though loud and clear.

I'm good with 2 miles. A two mile run is GREAT.
If 2 miles will enable me to accomplish #'s 3 and 4 on my list then I'm good with that. And my current pace is fine too. I see no need to go further or faster if #'s 3 and 4 are being accomplished.

But, not Race.

My lovely 2 mile run on the road has turned into a gruelling cross country race through the backwoods of this county. Up the steepest hills, down the deepest ravines, across creeks, over logs, through mud. The first day he suggested this I almost hurled just at the thought of it. Terrifying. And he times it.

Crazy thing is, I've come to actually look forward to it. When we first began this crazyness, I wouldn't whine simply because I couldn't spare the oxygen to do so. Now, I don't even think about whining. I kinda like it.

I run a little behind Race. And I'm not gonna lie to ya. I like the view. (And I find it hard to concentrate if someone could be looking at my butt while I run, so this is better. I have issues. See #3)

When we come to the big, freezing cold, creek, Race lets me hop on his back to get across. (Less because he cares about me getting wet, and more because he's the only one with Gore-Tex running shoes and he knows I'd never go the rest of the way with cold, wet, feet.)

And on a really good day, when the planets are all correctly alligned, and I'm well hydrated, and he's a little tired.... we will be running up the gigantic, killer hill that is our finish, and I'll find that extra push and go neck-in-neck with Race to the finish.

And then it happens.

My very toughest audience in the world will hit me on the butt and say, "You're a beast!" Which, in Race speak means, "Good job hon, I'm so proud of you."

And there are no noisy teens and tweens around to laugh hysterically or imitate me running up the hill over and over.

And that makes me want to give it a try again tomorrow.

Cheers!
Melissa

Melissa is............

I think that Facebook is ruining my life. And my blogging ability. And my self esteem.

I can only think in simple sentences and want to start every thought with "Melissa Is...."

I need to take a break.

I started my Facebook page because Austin had asked to start one. I agreed, but felt that I needed to be able to keep a check on what was going on. (i.e., invade his privacy.)

And then I started being "found". And I got drug into the whole, big, time suck.

It's like this unbelievably random set up with all these applications that I don't even understand.There's stuff all over the page. And don't even get me started on the whole "Add friends" business. Did you know that when you first get started it says," Melissa has no friends".

I'm serious! It really says that.

For Cryin' out LOUD, people! Is it helping ANYONE to see that on their computer screen??? "Melissa has no friends." Crap, man. That's harsh.

Anyway, I've been on Facebook "finding" old friends. Race thinks it's funny to watch me sweat it out on Facebook. He muttered, "Good grief, Melissa there was a REASON you quit keeping up with all those people!" BWAHAHAHA!!!

I find myself making these "friend requests". And then putting stupid stuff on my "Status" like: "Melissa is: making bread." Why would I even feel the need to even type that?? I mean seriously.........who the hell CARES??? But then that begs the question; "What ARE you supposed to put in that "Status" box?"

So I'm takin' a break from the old "Crackbook". I'm coming back over here before I find myself talking in the third person on a regular basis, ya know?

But feel free to add me as your "friend", ' kay?

Cheers!
Melissa

Girls Night

O.K., I have joked a lot on this blog about drinking. And as most of you know, I am rarely ever SERIOUS about anything I say here. (Well...I DID think pretty hard about getting slammed and calling the 1-888-DEMS............but I didn't do it.)

But what I am about to tell you really DID happen.


I was fortunate enough to get to attend an impromptu Girls Night last night.



I will refrain from mentioning the names of the attendants here, in order to protect their idenity. But they are regular readers, so if anyone wishes to out themselves.........ya know........feel free.



We met at my parents Beach House. And as I think back over the years, it's a damned good thing for a lot of us, that those walls can't talk. Can I get an "Amen", sistas?



The choice from the bar ....(The beachhouse kitchen) was the martini. The menu was light hor'd'oeuvres.



Now, here's where the details get a bit sketchy, but this is some of what I recall.



Dancing.



There was LOTS of dancing.

Dances were mocked.

Dances were created. (I have a particular fond memory of........um......someone... imitating how all of our Uncles dance. There was just something about that era. ALL those men do some sort of diluted, Chubby Checkers dance. BWAHAHA! You have Uncles.......you know they do that dance!)



My dancing was described as much more aerobic in nature and likened to watching "Friday Fitness". Ahem..............................What. Ever.

The point being the groove was gotten on, people.

At one point in the night there was a heated argument over the lyrics to an old Cher song. The words "Half Breed!" were yelled. A lot.



We laughed so hard that my stomach was actually SORE the next day!

It was such a fun time.
The rest of the stuff that I remember just wouldn't translate in my blog. But I am so thankful for such great friends.....and great spouses to let us grab a night away.Never underestimate the power of laughter.

We were gone from our respective homes less than 24 hours. But it was just absolutely GOLDEN!

Any takers for next year????

Cheers!
Melissa

PALIN in 2012 !!!

Cheers!

Melissa

I love my country

I voted today, at my tiny little precinct, which actually was busier than usual, but Race and I didn't wait in line or anything.
While I waited for Race, I spoke to a lady who was 65 years old and this the first time that she had ever voted. She held on to a Republican sample ballot. I saw this today and I'm hoping that this is not the civilian security force that Obama envisions.


Seriously????
Black Panther Intimidation at the polls?

NBPP: “We will be at the polls in the cities and counties in many states to ensure that the enemy does not sabotage the black vote, which was won through the blood of the martyrs of our people."

If you want the story it's here: michelle maulkin.

Election Day craziness.

Cheers!

Melissa

On the Appalachian Trail......

On Sunday, this is where I ate lunch: We hiked on the Appalachian trail all day. The colors on the trees were absolutely electrifying. The reds were and yellows were unbelievably vibrant.

Here is the rest of the crew as we started out on the trail:



Here are the kids, as we took a break for lunch. For some reason, Savannah and Jackso already have their shoes off. I swear they only wear shoes because we make them.


O.k, so there are a few pictures for you of our awesome weekend.
I know that some of you are concerned how I will get through election day tomorrow.I was worried until I heard a radio ad today stating that the democratic party would send someone to pick you up and take you to the polls if you call them.
My plan is simple:
I plan to go to the liquor store, and then come home and call 1-888-DEMS to come and pick me up and get me to the polls to vote.
Cheers!
Melissa

oh my gosh!

My sister Thomasina has come back to the blog world!! Go and check her out.
I'll be back later tonight to post some pictures of our weekend.

Cheers!
Melissa

A late Trick or Treat post

Y'all remember my youngest son, Jackson? Right?

And my lovely daughter, Savannah. You remeber her don't you? Isn't she beautiful?

This is them on Halloween.

Pretty scary, huh?

And...ummm...how good am *I* at make-up????

Lots to catch up on!

Cheers!

Melissa

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

Savannah and Jackson just left in the scariest costumes that I have EVER seen!! I will upload them later and show you the before and after. Scary!

Trick or Treat!
Melissa

I'm kind of a bad wife sometimes.....

Race has been at a new Johnny Bad Ass school all week. He came home after supper time.

He sat down to eat his dinner, and I sat with him. He told me about some of the new JBA training. I tried to listen. I did. I know that it's important and all. I mean whats going on in "the theatre"........ and the tried and true methods and ... so on and so on....

I should listen better.

I mean it's his LIFE, ya know? Literally.

Oh- and they sent him home with a whole giant , and I mean GIANT bag of Johnny Bad Ass gear. Brand spankin new. Maybe it's some sort of prize for doing really well at Johnny Bad Ass School.

It's all over my living room right now. The boys are all drooling over it and enjoying the sound of ripping velcro while they ask Race all about each and every use for each and every piece.

Ahhhhh.....one can never have too much kit. Unless of course, one lives in a relatively small cape cod with a bunch of pack rats.

It's actually quite amusing to watch the male species as they go through this stuff. I wish that I was allowed to take a picture and show you. It is so funny.
I mean, I honestly don't care what a man believes or does for a living, there is just something magnetic in this stuff for boys. Boys of all ages. They're like monkeys, sorting through it, holding it up to the light, opening and closing the thousands of velcro fasteners. They make various piles, and then they spread it all out again. It's all very serious business. This ain't no party, man. They're subdued in their conversation as they discuss the proper use and instance for each piece.

Is there a limit to Race's coolness meter to his boys??? It continues to go up.

(Insert car screaching noise here)

Jack just held up a piece and said, "I have my homemade grenade. That'll fit in it."

Hmmm.....I'm hoping Race caught that. Better make a note to self to check that out.

Anyway, I find it all rather amusing.

And it makes me so, so very happy to have Savannah. ;-)

I'm going to go and turn on Tim Gunn's Guide to Style, just to try and slow down the testosterone in the room.

Balance. That's my job.

Cheers!
Melissa

Show me the money

Race and I have been reigning in this family's spending habits as of late.


Tell me this?

Who blocked out the sun?

DON'T *I* HAVE GOALS???

DON'T *I* HAVE DREAMS?? .............................................








NO............. BUT I HAVE A TOILET BOWL THAT"S SPRING!TIME!FRESH!!

All this domesticatin' is wearin' me thin, I tell ya.

I have made breakfast, lunch and dinner PLUS home made snacks and desserts EVERY SINGLE DAY for 2 and a half weeks. Just this week, I have already made 2 pies, 2 loaves of whole wheat bread, one batch of Halloween cookies, and I am staring at a whole plate, piled high with homemade, soft pretzels.

And it's only TUESDAY!

(Now, all of you who do this on a regular basis and DON'T complain about it, please sit quietly while I whine for a moment. Thanks)

DO you know where I've been this week?

Church.

And Food Lion.

I actually caught myself DESIRING to talk to the produce guy. Not that I ever MIND talking to him, but I mean.......I don't ever *think* about it, ya know?He's just old......and slightly creepy....but nice.(You can ask Thomasina, she knows.) But I think I might have frightened him. He was stacking the broccoli with an ever increasing speed as I chatted on animatedly about my day. And no, it turns out you're NOT allowed back behind those swinging doors unless you are a Food Lion employee.

But on the bright side, lessons have been going well. And the children seem strangely delighted with the return of their homemaking mother. Oh- AND my boredom has forced me to work out again, seriously. (Well, THAT and the fact that I've also been EATING a lot of the stuff I've been cooking) I started back again this week, after about a 3 week off and on thing with my work-outs.

So tomorrow I will spend the day screaming involuntarily with every activity that causes sitting, standing, reaching, pushing or pulling. And I'll wonder what on earth ever possesses me to STOP working out, when starting up again is so danged hard. But having done so, I shall put off being a total lard butt for awhile longer.

So, think of me while you visit at your coffee shops, while you pick out your new polish before your manicure, and when you put on that new lipstick. Think of me. ANd wipe a tear.

I'll be here dreaming up chicken coop plans and thinking about new ways to make potatoes fun and exciting.

Cheers!

Melissa

Now THAT'S Talent

Mom, I apologize in advance for the contents of this post.

I grew up with only sisters in my family and with one very lady like mama who believed that little girls should have good manners. My dad was the sole male in the house. The lone ranger. The bread winner. The Dragon Slayer. And THE.FINAL.WORD. in all decisions.

As little girls, we were taught that "farting" WAS the "f" word.

and that word was forbidden.

It was referred to as "having gas" and was to be avoided at all costs, and should the awful situation arise, it should be followed by a demure "excuse me", and THAT.IS.ALL. If there was a snicker or giggle it was typically met with my mom saying in her pleasant, little, half-smiling way, "Girls, that's not very lady-like". (My mom was a somewhere between Glenda the Good Witch and Snow White)

This is the way it was. It was in stone an we lived by it.

There was only one hitch in this whole system.

My dad.

You see, my dad, being the master of this particular castle and ruling by dictatorship, NOT democracy, did not subscribe to this particular prim, modus operandi.

NO sir.

Around the family, he would just let 'er rip.

He's never been a man for much genteel pageantry, so this was usually a thundering, ground shaking event that would probably have been followed by applause in some far off, obscure cultures.

This always shocked us girls, and would undoubtedly produce stares of disbelief and attempts at repressed laughter. My mom would only utter his name in a sort of shameful admonishment, and then shoot us girls a look to let us know that LAUGHING at the unfortunate flatulence was also not really appropriate for young ladies.

One day Thomasina and Emily were playing badmitten out in the yard, and my dad walked by on his way into the house.

He never missed a step in his stride as he ripped out a loud one.

It was here, that Em turned,paused in her game and answered, "Yeah dad?"

That's right. She ANSWERED her fathers fart.

Thomasina quickly said, in sort of an embarassed whisper, "He didn't CALL YOUR NAME. He farted!" (Although I am sure that she must have said "passed gas" , mom)

My dad took no notice of them whatsoever and went into the house.

You can imagine the roar as the two girls collapsed on the lawn in riotous laughter.

This story is one of my "go to" stories when I really need to laugh. In fact my kids tell it too.

I am told that some of Em's friends will occasionally bring it up and say, "Hey Em, can your dad still fart your name?"

Now THAT'S talent.

Cheers!
Melissa

The white work truck

Today we had to drive Austin to his co-op class. He is currently in the beginning of a dental"treatment plan." That is apparently dentist speak for "you could buy a kidney for less money than this is going to end up costing you.) Anyway, he was still feeling pretty lousy from his dental visit, and Race had to go into the office today, so it was my day to drive.

We dropped him off for class, and then Savannah and Jackson and I headed on to run a few errands. The roads were super busy today for some reason, so I was concentrating on manuevering the suburban through the traffic.

This must be the reason that I missed the big work truck drive by at first.

It seems that work must have been MIGHTY, mighty slow today, because the guys in the truck were waving and driving along beside us.

Jackson informed me of this immediately. Ever ready to jump into his knight in armour attire, he was saying in a grave voice, "MOM. Those guys were "checking you out". I do NOT like them mom. They're creeps!They need to be taught a lesson!" I hadn't seen them, and so I made some lame excuse about "maybe they just wanted to know where I got my bumper sticker". To which he replied, "NO, MOM. NO. That was NOT the look of 'want' that was in their eyes."

*At that point in the conversation I tried not to wreck the car. I could see Savannah's incredulous stare at Jack, sitting across from her.*

So anyway, the truck pulls up beside us again at the light. And these poor depraved things are waving and smiling and trying to get me to roll down my drivers side window. (In which the motor is burnt out, anyway LOL!) I just sat staring straight ahead at the light, and thinking, "Crap! I STILL don't have my BLADE on me !"
The suburban has darkly tinted windows in the back, so you cannot tell if anyone else is in the vehicle.
I had drowned out the constant , idignant chatter of Jackson as the light FINALLY turned green and we began to move. (whew!......All good........on our way.........no biggie.)

But I definitely did NOT forsee what would happen next.

As we passed the white, king cab work truck, my 11 year old son, rolls down his window and begins shaking his fist at these men and angrily yelling, "Yeah....C'MON! You want some-uh this?!! YEAH.....I'LL TEACH YOU SOME MANNERS You CREEPS That's MY MOM! "

Holy Cow. I was stunned. And amused. ANd a little scared for this childs future.

After the whole episode was over and the windows were all rolled up, it was all quiet in the suburban. Savannah was staring at Jackson, speechless. I was just watching the road straight ahead, and trying to put as much distance between us and the truck as possible.

And then Jackson spoke and said, "OH. I am SO telling dad about this when he gets home."

I do hope that the guys in that work truck today saw as much humor in my kid as I did!!!

Cheers!
Melissa