When the Spirit Moves You...

I have sharing time in Primary this week....err....tomorrow. (It's only 10:00 am, so I'm getting a head start. No procrastinating here, huh-uh, no way.)

Primary is the childrens' organization in the LDS church. During 2/3 of our Sunday meeting time, the kids meet together...like Sunday School. Sharing time is when one lucky adult gets to teach all of them together. I'm pretty sure that's the official definition. hehe

So I'm looking online for something to steal, err inspire me, and--wonders of wonders--I get totally side-tracked. I found this cute site called "Overheard in the Ward." (www.overheardintheward.com) Naturally, I must share with you something I read there, so that we both may be inspired and edified:


GAS THERAPY

CTR 5 teacher: What is something you love to do? Something that makes you happier than anything else?

5-year-old: Farting.


Now I have to get back to working this into my sharing time. Don't you wish you were in my ward??

Let the Twilight frenzy begin

I have a teenage daughter. She has devoured all of the Twilight books. She and her Edward-loving friends have been looking forward to the movie. Me?? Not so much. I have read all the books and actually quite enjoyed them. Part of the reason is that they far surpassed my expectations, which warms my cockles because the writer is a BYU graduate. I'm very proud of her. (No doubt she lives for my approval and this is the best news she's heard all year. #1 selling book? Eh. A movie contract? Yawn. Erin Black's thumbs up? WAHOO!!)

Reading my niece-in-law, Brittney's blog post about the movie today reminded me that my expectations for the movie are pretty low. And this time I highly doubt I'll be proven terribly wrong. I was able to get through the cheesy lines in the book by reading them really fast. Not possible in a movie. Just the trailer has caused me some queasiness. The SPOOF on the trailer, however, deserves an Oscar. It has made me laugh out loud more than once. If you haven't seen it, you simply must:


I love the part where he runs after the hot girl saying "I'm immortal!"
Now that's good cinema.

The family who drinks together...

Pardon me for a moment, but I must brag on my husband. Since this blog is as close to a family history as we'll probably ever get, I want it recorded in the annals of time that my husband is a wonder. He started a company--all alone, from the ground up, in an industry he knew nothing about--three years ago. Two days ago He sold it for a tidy little sum. I am just so proud of him! I don't think there are many people in this world who would even attempt that, much less actually make it work. It astounds me! I want to be him when I grow up.

Friday night we held a wild celebration of the sale, wherein we drank bottle after bottle of the apple-variety bubbly. Here's a photo of the wild party (still no photoshop, sorry):

Oh, yeah, none taken!

A conversation immediately after picking up Shnookie4's little friend:

Little friend: You need to clean out your car, I guess. It stinks in here. (pause) NO OFFENSE.

Shnookie4: Maybe it's YOU that stinks. NO OFFENSE.

All of us laughing, but me secretly high-fiving the Shnook.

Idle hands

Shnookie4's last soccer game was on Saturday. Two hours before the start of the game, I decided that I had time to wash her socks, so I put them in with a load of like-minded clothing. I have had the same washer and dryer for TEN YEARS and I'm still in denial about how incredibly s-l-o-w they are. 15 minutes before we had to leave, I check the dryer, and the socks are still beyond moist. So I take out all of the other clothes, believing the personal attention will accelerate the drying. Not. We've done EVERYTHING else we can possible do to get ready, and they've still made no progress.

Shnookie4 is very punctual, so the sock drama is stressing her out big time. In one of those rare mom 'ah-ha' moments, I decide to secure the socks in the passenger window and let them flap in the breeze while we speed to soccer. Except that we get behind not one, but two Grandma's out for a leisurely drive. I am not against Grandma's and their need to drive slowly (it's probably best that we slow down at some point in life), and I didn't even really care if we got to our destination on time. BUT what I did need was as much kinetic energy as possible to blow dry my baby's socks. It was kinda like the movie SPEED. Except that we were racing for foot comfort instead of a bunch of strangers lives. You can see how high the stakes were.

I managed to get ahead of Grandma #2 (who didn't care for that much, btw, even though I followed all laws and made no hand gestures whatsoever). And, as is inevitable in these cases, I got stopped at a light 10 blocks ahead, and there she is, right behind me. I mention that tidbit to Shnookie4, and she turns to look behind, saying, "I want to see what the grandma is doing." Pause. "Probably knitting." When I laughed, she said, "What?? That's what Grandma's do." I think the fact that Grandma Williams was at our house the night before, knitting in the 10 seconds between serving trick-or-treaters, had something to do with her assumption. Now I'm wondering if maybe my mom does knit at stop lights when no one is looking.