Just the Funny Paper, Please
JD is obsessed with three things: dirt, Lightning McQueen, and Mom. After all, he’s two.
He inherited at least one Lightning McQueen car from his big bros, but he has also been given several as gifts. He got at least one for Christmas, he got three or more for his birthday, plus he got one when Nonna visited. All total, I’m thinking there should be a pile of 10 Lightning McQueens somewhere in this house, yet we can never find ANY of them.
The other day, JD was under the dining room table, when he suddenly began shouting, “McQueen! McQueen! McQueen! Lightning McQueen!”
Alan was home alone with JD. I have no idea where the rest of us were. Alan crawled under the table with Dirt Boy, and sure enough there was the cache! FOUR Lightning McQueens and several race cars were all hiding in a panel under the table. You could just see one on the end poking out, and the rest were still in the panel. Alan had to slowly work them out from this wooden tunnel that we did not even know existed under our table.
It was the event of the week. Caleb and Daniel arrived home and pounced on the opportunity that I have been promising them but have yet to deliver them.
Daniel snatched one up, “Write my name on this one! Write my name on here!”
JD was in bed, so the collection was left undefended.
You see, JD is a HOG of Lightning McQueens and race cars. No one else gets to touch one if he’s around. I dutifully wrote Daniel’s name on one and Caleb’s name on another.
Our boys take the whole name-stamped-ownership thing as gospel truth, an unbreakable definition of ownership. Even JD understands the importance of it.
Unfortunately, I wrote Daniel’s name on a rusted one, so he keeps trying to trade JD, only to be met with, “NO! This yours (points to Daniel’s name). This mine!” as he points to his own name on the shiny new one.
There can never be enough Lightning McQueens.
A couple of weeks ago, Nonna texted me a question that went something like this, “Can you post your favorite pics of the boys? I’m working on a Christmas project.”
I texted her back, “Christmas!? It’s only August!”
“Get with the program, girl! Christmas is only 11 weeks away!” she sent back.
So I sent her this picture, because this is how I feel about Christmas shopping, airplane tickets, and suitcases:
I have my reasons….
Thank you, Merry Christmas, Excuse Me, I’m Sorry…..On the return trip it took a month to get all of our suitcases back…
Our Nightmare Before Christmas….You would cry too if it happened to you.
I need to remind myself of this one: Best Christmas Ever
JD ate three bowls of cereal this morning, and when he was finished he took both of his spoons and ran to the kitchen. He opened the spoon drawer, tossed in the two dirty spoons, and proudly proclaimed, “Did it!” Then he dashed to the living room.
A super-mom probably would have taken that opportunity to show JD how to put his spoons in the sink. Actually, Super-Mom would have only allowed him the one spoon in the first place…
I, on the other hand, busted out laughing and rushed to find Alan to tell him the story. Oh, but first I made a note on the wipe-off board to put it on my blog.
Then I finally fished the offending spoons out myself.
Roll Tide, y’all!