Let Keith Eat Cake

Nick and I flew home last weekend for some pre-wedding festivities as most of you know. I'm still looking for pictures of my bridal shower so hopefully someone can get their hands on those. The whole weekend was one big success. It was so fun to have Melinda there and to see everyone. Unfortunately, I didn't get to see the twinners as much as I thought I would. Probably a total of twenty minutes. Which, I might add, is not sufficient for the favorite auntie and uncle. I had the pleasure of trying to stuff pears and crackers down Keith's throat. I couldn't figure out why he wasn't interested in all the wonderful healthy options in front of him. I turned around to see Nick, Shea, Puffy, Lela, and Melinda enjoying hearty pieces of Costco's Death By Chocolate cake. And could I deny sweet little Keith? No. He is worthy of chocolaty cake just like everyone else. So I let him have cake. Lucky for him, everyone in the room starting following suit and feeding him cake of their own. True to the smart name, he downed half of the cake by himself. Kudos to Darc and Brent for starting them young. What champions they will become. As a side note, Darcee is looking very cute and pregnant these days. Hopefully she can keep up with Nick, who is also looking slightly prego these days. He is pushing 190 and I am so proud! He is looking forward to an all-inclusive cruise with tons and tons of great food. We can't wait to see you all on Thursday! Its going to be a Party! Party! Don't let your mama know!.... I've been singing that all month!

Earth Day!

I know I am a day late but I am cutting myself a break considering jetlag and the 700 emails that were waiting for me upon my return from Africa. Yesterday was Earth Day and in celebration, we went to see the movie “Earth”, a documentary by Disney about the Earth, its plants and animals. I did fall asleep for a little bit (jetlag!), but it was really well done. Plus, proceeds from the movie ticket went toward planting a tree. In honor of the special occasion, I thought I would share some of my pictures from the safari I went on while in Tanzania. I promise tax dollars were well spent on the trip--in order to get to one of our sites we had to drive right through a game reserve. We could see lots of animals from the road but on the way back to the capital, we decided to get a closer look at the animals. It was cool to see the animals in their natural setting.

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Here is a video of a Male Elephant that was not happy with how close we got to his family.




More pics to come of the work while in Africa.

The Babysitter's Club

Lil' D and I were handling the boys last weekend while Mom was tie-hunting for Snick's wedding and Brent and Dad were at Priesthood. It was all going really well for us.
L.D. and I were deep in vital, sisterly conversation when we heard lots of crinkling and scratching coming from the dining room. We assumed the boys were playing with the cellophane on the giant Easter baskets Grandma She-She got them, so naturally, we continued our conversation. (Yes, I let my toddlers play often with cellophane and various other hazardous packing materials.)

When Cole let out a yelp of frustration, we decided we better check it out.






















Apparently, the boys had dug deeper than the cellophane wrapping and got down to the styrofoam hunk sitting at the bottom of the basket, just begging to be torn to shreds. Is anyone out there aware of the many destructive and annoying properties of which styrofoam balls are capable? They cling to EVERYTHING!!!

The first few seconds were spent in fits of hysterical laughter and Darel's picture-taking, followed by ingenious strategical planning to clean up a million balls of clinging styrofoam while keeping two curious boys at bay.
The best method in the end was "Divide and Conquer". I stripped the boys and kept them away while Darel cleaned up all the little static balls. Every time I see a lingering ball, I just have to laugh. Don't ever assume these two are innocent or incapable of causing severe damage to you or your personal property. (Yes, even you, Keith.)

As a side, if you know anyone that needs a sitter, give Darel or me a call. We prefer to work as a team. We are currently operating under the following marketing motto:

"No job is too big. No fee is too big."

"The World Wide Weapon!"

I went sno-boarding this past week with Brent at Mt. Hood Meadows. I have to admit that I was tearing it up. Well, that's the way I remember it. Okay...actually, I am a pretty sub-par boarder. I have been a very marginal snow boarder for a number of years. I used to blame my below average skills on the fact that I had lousy equipment. A number of years ago, I bought a used board from my brother Dave. I was too cheap to buy actual snow boarding boots--instead, I opted for a pair of stiff mountaineering boots. Without real boots, psychologically, I just couldn't progress.

That all changed the end of last boarding season. I was buying a new snow board on clearance for my most excellent son, when the "dude" (I hesitate to call anyone who has dozens of tatoos and even a greater number of visible body piercings a "salesclerk." He is simply the board shop dude.) who was assisting us suggested that I take a look at the new boarding gear for myself.

"So, old man do you own a board?"

"Yeah, I've been boarding for a while now."

"Sweet. I've got some mondo gear that will have you shreading the great white with your boy here.'

"Really?"

"*#%!! right dude. I've got just the board for you. We call it the 'World Wide Weapon.' It has earned more awards than any other board in the history of 'Snowboarder" magazine."

"Yeah, but will it help me keep up with my son and son-in-law?"

*#*%!! right dude. Your peeps will be calling YOU the 'World Wide Weapon.'"

"Hmmm." I thoughtfully mused. I am not going to lie--the thought of the next generation referring to me as the "World Wide Weapon" has powerful appeal. Admittedly, I have always liked WWF like monikers--you know, names like "The Undertaker", "The Real Deal" or "The Natural." You think twice before messing with a guy with a name like that.

Before I knew it, this Board Shop Dude whom I refused to give any respect as a Sales Clerk had totally worked me and had me shelling out over a $1,000 for gear that I truly believed would transform me into the "World Wide Weapon."

This year when I boarded with the Lil D and her easily manipulated friends, I demanded that they address me as the "World Wide Weapon."

"Hey Mr. Smart, when are we stopping for lunch?"

"Excuse you. You will address me as the 'World Wide Weapon' young man!"

"Sorry 'Mr. WWW', when are we stopping for lunch?"

Mission accomplished!

"'The 'World Wide Weapon' thinks that we will stop for lunch after one more run."

Respect like that does not come easily. It cost exactly $1,134.23!