Monday, August 31, 2009

Shin Splints

I mentioned in passing a few posts ago that Big Brother had started fall soccer season. To my surprise, Big Brother’s first practice went very well. He was excited, played hard (and not in the dirt), and even answered a question. Apparently, my lack of coaching was the key to his success.

I knew it wouldn’t last (at least based on last soccer season).

After a rain out, Big Brother’s second practice was last Monday. I use the word “practice” very loosely here.

For no clear reason, Big Brother completely REFUSED to participate. I mean he stood on the sidelines with Mom-E and Little Brother without even so much as setting a tip-toe on the field, fuming under his breath the entire time.

His lower lip was so pouty there was enough room for an entire flock of seagulls to poop on it.

And when I arrived (a little late—all practices start at 5—which is tough on work days), nothing I
said or did could persuade him to act otherwise.

Ahh, the sweet sound of money well spent. Flush, down the drain.

The team’s word of the day was “encouragement.” Big Brother definitely needed some encouragement at practice, that is, if encouragement is defined as a swift kick in the behind followed by the words, “JUST DO IT!”

Big Brother was so hopping mad that he didn’t even join his team when they handed out popsicles (not that we would’ve let him have one, given his behavior).

I admit to feelings of despair on the way home.

I’d pretty much resolved myself to the fact that we’d witnessed the end of Big Brother’s athletic career (I mean, I wouldn’t want one of my children to quit something they’d committed to, but why continue to invest all of that time, energy, and frustration, if he’s just going to refuse to play?)

To borrow from a “Far Side” cartoon: “And then a miracle occurs.”

Big Brother happened to tell us, “my shin guards hurt my legs.”

Oh. Shoot. You’re right. You know, they are looking a little small. Apparently the 3 granola bars you’ve eaten since spring soccer season all went straight to your legs.

“Big Brother, would you like to get new shin guards?”

“YEAH! He exclaims.”

So off we go the next day to the sporting goods store, and we leave with a new, bigger size shin guards and cool black socks to go over them.

In an about-face, Big Brother is now VERY EXCITED about soccer.

You’dve thought before this we had been asking Big Brother to play soccer in an iron maiden.

Fast forward to our first game on Thursday.

Big Brother returned to the same form as the first practice. He ran wild around the fields (yes, fields, plural. For his age group, the kids end up kicking the ball on no less than 4 different fields.)

He even scored a goal (and arm-tackled one of his own teammates on a breakaway.)

Of course, according to Murphy’s Law, there were no popsicles (and no snacks, for that matter) after the game.

The whole thing reminded me that sometimes there’s not much difference between parenting a baby and an almost five year-old. It’s all about figuring out what your child wants/needs. With a baby, there’s pretty much just 3 choices (hungry, sleepy, or dirty). With a five year-old, the possibilities are unlimited, but at least they can tell you when their shins hurt.

Have a good week with no shin splints,

Friday, August 28, 2009


Happy Fatherhood Friday Everyone!

If there’s something strange, in your blogger-hood. Who you gonna visit? !

Well, it’s been a hectic week in Busy-Dad-E’s neighborhood.

Couple that with today being my least favorite day of the entire year.

And so now, for a dose of smiles and laughter to brighten anyone's day, insert small children dancing to Ghostbusters.

That’s right. Despite having never seen the movie, Big and Little Brother have developed a complete infatuation with Ray Parker, Jr’s theme song.

We can’t sit down to dinner anymore without Little Brother’s request for, “More Go-buster, Dad-E!”

I love it. I can’t help but be proud that my boys are excited by music from one of the defining films of my generation.

I’ll let you be the judge of their skills and choreography.

Enjoy! (And yes, that's Big Brother wearing Batman jammies, complete with cape.)

Have a good weekend,

Monday, August 24, 2009

Half-Way There

Recently Mom-E noted on the calendar that she’s half-way to her due date.

[Please pause with me for a brief freak-out moment.]

Even Mom-E said that she sometimes still looks in the mirror and is surprised to see her pregnant belly.

(Speaking of which, it’s better to ask a pregnant woman when her due date is, rather than commenting on the size of her belly. I can’t believe the people who have told her, “you look like you’re due anytime.” Lucky for them they lived.)

Hello, people, it’s called Bab-E #3. Her uterus simply says, “Oh, yeah, I’ve done that before. Let’s make some room in here,” and out it goes. Besides, I think Mom-E is hot with her “bab-e bump.”

Anyway, we’re obviously very excited about Bab-E Brother’s pending arrival in a few months. It’s just that we’ve been so bus-e with things lately that the time has been flying by.


One of the exciting things about Bab-E’s pending arrival is that we will be having another “Big Brother Party.”

We did this just after Little Brother officially joined the family. Essentially, it was like a birthday party, except that we celebrated Big Brother becoming, well, a Big Brother. The party was complete with family guests, a cake, and a present from Little Brother (fortunately, Big Brother didn’t ask how Little Brother could get him a present from inside Mom-E’s belly, especially one that was dry.)

It was a great way to make Big Brother feel extra special about his new role at a time when he was experiencing a big change.

We’re excited that soon we’ll be planning another Big Brother Party for both Big Brother and Little Brother. It will be interesting to see how Big Brother explains this one to Little Brother.

I’m curious to know things you and your family have done to make older siblings feel special around the time of the arrival of a new baby. For example, my cousin and her husband have been taking their children out for their own special day (with just mommy and daddy), prior to the arrival of their new sibling.
So, don’t be shy. Share with the group.

Have a good week,

Thursday, August 20, 2009

O Brother Where Art Thou

Happy Fatherhood Friday everyone! Your homework this week is to visit

Those of you who made it to "class" last week may remember that Big Brother started pre-K this week. Around here, Mom-E and I have been feeling a bit excited, proud, and sentimental about this milestone.

I was fully expecting to have some humorous anectdote to share today about Big Brother's first week of school. Perhaps something related to having to go potty, meeting a little girlfriend (the boys pretend they're dinosaurs and chase the girls on the playground), or making some other funny comment or observation (like telling us his teacher is a goof-ball).

Instead, it's just been a mostly week of fun and excitement for Big Brother. He appears to be adjusting well and is thriving his new environment, even though he tells us his teacher won't let him eat his pudding?!? I've noticed a surge in his creative energy, especially wanting to do even more drawing and puzzles, that persists well into the evening.

Even the start of fall soccer season has provided me with little blogging material. Perhaps because my work schedule doesn't permit me to coach this fall, Big Brother is responding very well to soccer this go-around. He followed instructions, answered questions out loud, and managed to avoid playing in the dirt piles at his first practice. (Sorry WeaselMomma.)

Actually, the most notable impact of the new school year has been it's saddening effect on Little Brother. The poor guy really misses his Big Brother, even though he does like to look at the fish tank at school (on both the way in and the way out). It's been hard for him to understand why he can't go to school, too. There have been some wimpers and cries of protest upon leaving school. This is compounded by the fact that when Big Brother gets home, Little Brother is exhausted and ready for nap time.

Talking to Mom-E on the phone Wednesday, I could hear Little Brother say in the background, "I want Big Brother."

It's interesting because this is the first time in his life that Little Brother has extended periods of 1 to 1 time with Mom-E, whereas Big Brother had almost 3 years of undivided parental attention.

And his feelings are in no way a knock on Mom-E or I. Although I would've thought Little Brother would relish in play time with Mom-E without being bowled over or having toys grabbed away by Big Brother, this change is still hard for him. Since birth, he only knows what it's like to have Big Brother always around.

Even Big Brother has been attuned to this sentiment. Just the other day, he explained to Little Brother over breakfast, "Now Little Brother, I'm going to have to go to school soon here today, but I'll be back."

So, on the one hand, my heart goes out to Little Brother right now as he goes through his own adjustment period. On the other hand, it makes my heart smile that my two boys are so closely bonded.

Have a good weekend,

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Advice on Women From Dad-E

(For my boys' future reference.)


Dear Boys,

I recently came across this Yahoo article.

The “Reader’s Digest” version of the article is that:
“Words of appreciation spoken directly to your romantic partner go far in paving the way to a happy, healthy relationship.” And you should say some/all of the following 5phrases (especially when you (will and do) screw-up). IN CAPS, I'VE MADE SOME ANNOTATED COMMENTS

1. You're irreplaceable.

2. You bring light to my life.

3. You are perfect just the way that you are.

4. I love your (fill in the blank: bright eyes, cute toes, toned arms, sleek legs,
silky hair).

5. I am so proud of you.

I was talking to Mom-E about this article, and it gave us both quite a laugh.

I promise not to espouse too much advice when it comes to love and relationships, but I'm hoping to save you from this (near) death-trap.

Let me just say that IMHO "cheesy phrases" do NOT pave the way to a happy relationship. If this were a test (and women WILL and DO give you many tests, even though you do NOT realize you are taking them), you would FAIL MISERABLY, just on your willingness to say them.

Relationships are like a garden. They take (sometimes hard) work and nurturing to make them grow and flourish. There is no "secret phrase" or short-cut to making a relationship happy.

For Mom-E and I, there are 3 basic tenents to which we hold.

1. Communicate, communicate, communicate. It's not enough to whip off some sweet-soudning phrase. You need to learn how to really talk with each other--share ideas, joys, frustrations, and goals--to function effectively as a unit.

2. When you're done communicating, go out and "walk the walk." And the key is to walk together, working as a team. Words are nice, but action means a lot more.

Ask 100 women which is the bigger turn-on:
a. Your man tells you "I love you cute toes," or
b. Your man vacuums while holding the baby.

Anyone who answers a. needs medical attention.

3. You care more about yourselves as a couple than you care about yourself. Mom-E and I keep a pretty even division of labor when it comes to running the household. It's a 50-50 partnership.

But sometimes I'm just plain exhausted and need to go to bed myself after we tuck-in the boys. And Mom-E understands that. Other times, I tell Mom-E to go to bed early (I know when she needs to do this because she'll be falling asleep while reading a bedtime story), and I'll stay up to clean up the after dinner-mess, fold laundry, and pack lunches.

4. Bonus. Buy her roses and chocolate at least once a year FOR ABSOLUTELY NO OCCASION other than to say "I love you."

If you stick with the above plan, you won't need to rely on these "words of appreciation", though you will invariably need to say "I'm sorry" for when you screw-up.

But, no doubt, she'll have a detailed score card in her mind of all of the wonderful "actions" you've done that will bail you out of the dog house in no time.

See you on Fatherhood Friday!

Love you,

Monday, August 17, 2009

Saturday Picnic

After 14 consecutive days (or parts of days) at work, I was very glad to be off this past weekend.

Mom-E had a project to finish for her job on Saturday, and I was more than thrilled to hang out with the boys so that she could have some uninterrupted time to work at home and we could have some male bonding time.

So, Big Brother, Little Brother, Pupp-E, and I packed up some snacks and headed off to the pond in our neighborhood for a picnic.

We had a nice leisurely stroll to the pond. Then, we found a semi-shady spot, plunked down a blanket, and pulled out two bags of goldfish to feed to the ducks.

It wasn’t a moment before we were bombarded by no less than 27 geese and ducks. The boys chuckled hysterically while flinging goldfish after goldfish, and I relished in the cacophony of laughter.

The ducks’ tummies now full, we turned to our own bellies. The boys feasted on their favorites: crackers, granola bars, raisins, bananas, and yogurt smoothies. The laughter continued.

I was having so much fun that I wasn’t even too bothered by the fact that Little Brother REFUSED to ride in the stroller on the way home.

I must admit that I probably did look interesting with a 2 year-old in one arm, pushing an unoccupied umbrella stroller with a dog on a leash tied to one handle, while trying to keep an eye on Big Brother.

After having done a lot of power squatslast week, the upper body workout was a good change of pace.

We even made a pit-stop at the playground on the way home. I pushed Big Brother in the swing while holding Little Brother, who made karate kicks at Big Brother. The symphony of laughter continued.

At this point we were all big, giant sweat balls and all ready to go home for rehydration and a nap.

I think we were gone about 2 hours in total, but it was great to be relaxed and free from any set schedule. I even left my cell phone at home which only added to the sense of freedom.

As we’re walking into the driveway, Big Brother asked, “Hey dad, are we buddies?”

“You bet,” I replied. “We sure are.”

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Have a good week,

Friday, August 14, 2009

Pre-School Days

Happy Fatherhood Friday everyone! Thanks,


Dear Big Brother,

I can't believe you're starting pre-school on Monday. (And sometime, neither can you, as you often protest this abstract idea.) I admit to feeling just a little old from the thought that I now officially have a "school-aged" child.

We've enjoyed reading some books with you about starting school, including those starring Clifford and Wow-Wow-Wubzy, as well as a cool book from the library called "Kingergarten rocks."

Change is initially hard for you, but I'm confident that you'll quickly adjust to and thrive in this new experience (especially based on your excitement at orientation).

Your natural curiosity for learning, your enthusiasm, and your friendly disposition (somewhere between sweet and goober-head) will make you appreciated by new teachers and friends alike. I can't wait for that process to unfold as you make new friends.

Your memory is detailed and razor-sharp. I'm amazed at how you can recite so many passages from books as we read together, amongst other things.

You're already learning how to write your name (in capital letters and lower-case, too). Mom-E and I are also very impressed with your artistic skills. You love to draw, whether it's crayon or sidewalk chalk.

I can't wait for you to learn how to read. It will be exciting to watch as this catches on. As you read, it will open up many more doors in your curious little head. No doubt, you will start to read obsessively about things that interest you.

It's amazing to think that in 14 more short years you'll be heading off to college.

These things below will become more clear in the future (no doubt I'll want you to read this many years down the road), but I want to write them down now, as you officially embark on your school years.

1. Nobody expects you to be perfect. If you give your best effort, you have no reason to hang your head, no matter the outcome.
2. Learn how to write well, and hone your problem-solving skills. The real world is not multiple choice.
3. Find subjects that interest you and that elicit your passion, and explore them in depth. Study what you love, and your career will flow from there. Neither Mom-E or I expect nor want you to become an "X", "Y", or "Z".
4. You'll never stop learning.

We love you and we're very proud of the big boy you're becoming,

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

#2's in the #1

I'm not intentionally trying to focus on bathroom stories this week (see also Monday's post), but it just so happens to have flushed out that way.

Last Christmas, my dad got Little Brother a plush train. The train has 5 cars numbered 1-5, each with a different color. There are also 5 monkeys numbered 1-5, each with a hat and shirt that color-coordinate with a train car.

Little Brother has recently become very interested in playing with this toy.

Sometimes he says, "I want my monkeys", which is kind funny in-and-of-itself, coming from the mouth of a 2 year-old.

Other times he refers to the monkeys as his "babies". "Babies are tired. Want to go nite-nite," he says. And he will cover them with anything that resembles a blanket, whether that be a real blanket, tissue, or a sheet of paper towel.

And so the other day, Little Brother woke up from his nap and wanted his monkeys babies--all 5 of them. I picked him up out of his crib and helped him scoop up all of his babies.

Then, suddenly, I had to pee, and pretty bad, too.

The only problem is that Little Brother is really clingy after his nap (and with me in general), and he did NOT want me to put him down while I went potty. (I tried to, and this only met with the beginnings of a scream fest.)

I also tried to coax him into setting the monkeys down on the bathroom counter, which also met with protest.

Mom-E was busy in the other end of the house, and so my options were rather limited: pee my pants, or pee while holding a toddler.

And so I went potty while holding Little Brother, who in turn was holding his 5 monkeys.

I recognize the awkwardness and potential embarassment of this situation, but in a pinch I've done it before, and I'm sure I'll have to do it again. (Ah, the things we do as parents.) I'll also admit that it takes some "skill" to navigate both potty and toddler simultaneously

And who said men can't multi-task? Tsk, tsk.

The nly problem was that Little Brother had a little trouble handling all 5 monkeys.

Yep, you guessed it. Monkey #2 went for a "swim in the yellow pool."

I managed to fish the monkey out of the potty, which required another power squat), as I was still holding Little Brother.

I couldn't help but laugh as it was Monkey #2 who fell in the #1.

Little Brother didn't find it quite as amusing, especially when I told him that his monkey got yucky and needed a bath, which prompted a flood of crocodile tears and nasal discharge, in addition to more cries for "I want my monkey."

And so that you know the story had a happy ending, here's a picture of Monkey #2, who has been decontaminated, and is now out of quarrantine and reunited with his family.

See you on Fatherhood Friday. Until then, keep the monkeys out of the potty,

Monday, August 10, 2009

Why Males Pee Solo

Mom-E once told me that girls go to the bathroom in groups because it’s a social event.

Okay. Fine. I’m not going to even attempt to TRY to understand that one. Whatever makes you happy, dear. :)

However, I think I've figured out why boys DON’T go to the bathroom in groups (i.e., why we prefer to pee “solo.”) Let me set this up for you:

I was in the bathroom at church yesterday with the boys (where else would we be while at church? Actually, we only went potty once, as Big Brother’s bladder has recently grown from a size 3T to a 4T, thankfully just in time for preschool.)

I’ve always felt it was very important, even from an early age, for me to be the one to take the boys to the bathroom. “It’s a boy thing,” Big Brother explains to Mom-E.

So, we enter the bathroom, and there are four potential places to go potty:


Big Brother’s 2 favorite places to go are the Big Stall and the Short Urinal. Of course, both of these spots are presently occupied.

And of course, Big Brother REFUSES to go potty in the other 2 locations.

Instead, he opts to try to crawl under the door of the Big Stall. Mmm, now that’s clean.

I attempt to bend down to pull him out, which turns into a modified power squat because I’m carrying Little Brother in one arm. Fortunately, Big Brother figures out quickly that someone else is in the stall and he retreats.

By now, the Short Urinal has become available, and we head over there. Big Brother drops his pants and underwear, goes up to the stall, and…

Decides he really doesn’t want to pee in the Short Urinal. Instead, he starts to fuss and protest.

This means another power squat for Dad-E to help him pull up his pants while I'm holding Little Brother.

Finally, the Big Stall is free, and now BOTH boys want to go potty.

Big Brother takes his turn.

Then Little Brother exclaims, “I want to go potty, too.”

So, power squat #3 to set him down and take his diaper off.

Of course, Little Brother does not want to sit on the potty. Nope, he prefers to have me hold him up (sort of a modified power squat if you will).

But of course, 2 seconds later he decides that he no longer wants to go potty.

Big Brother walks out of the potty, his pants are still down. (Yet another power squat to fix that one.)

Then, Little Brother and I have a brief date at the changing table so I can reattach his diaper.

We proceed to move to the sink. Both boys enjoy playing and splashing washing their hands.

We’re just about to leave, when Little Brother again exclaims, “I want to go potty,” pointing at the Short Urinal.

Obviously wanting to encourage this behavior, I do power squat #5 to get him ready.

You can picture me bent down, holding a toddler up to pee at a urinal that’s taller than he is, his behind pointed pretty much at my face.

You may also remember that we’re actually still at church, and so I say a brief prayer that no "emissions" are directed my way.

Two seconds later, Little Brother decides he’s had enough of the potty and is done.

So, back we go for another round at the changing table.

And another round at the sink.

Finally, we leave the bathroom and head back to church. Yes, church is still going on, even though it feels like we’ve been in the bathroom for an hour.

As we leave, two thoughts are running through my head.
1. We’re soon to have Bab-E Brother (aka Boy #3). How much fun is it going to be to repeat the above procedure with 3 boys instead of 2? I'm picturing myself with Bab-E Brother strapped to my chest in the Baby Bjorn, doing power squats to help two other boys roaming around the bathroom naked from the waist down. Methinks I will have to chain them together.

2. This is why boys prefer to pee “solo.” It doesn't take long going to the bathroom in group fashion for us to realize that there are easier alternatives, even though I did get a good workout of my quads and gluts from all of the power squats.

Have a good week,

Friday, August 7, 2009

Bab-E is a...

Happy Fatherhood Friday everyone!

The views expressed in this blog do not necessarily reflect the views of, but they still let me participate in this event.

We had our 2nd trimester ultrasound on Wednesday.

Without further ado, Bab-E is…(drum-roll)…

a BOY!

We now have 60% of a basketball team (albeit our players are very short), and we're also saving money on clothes and toys.

Whoever said that the Y-chromosome was becoming obsolete must've forgotten to survey our household.

And apparently because I took my childhood swimming lessons at the "Y"-MCA, my "X"'s were off talking about shoes instead of working on their swimming skills.

Methinks it's time to consider renaming the blog:
c. Even The Dog's A BOY
d. Mom-E is WAY WAY Outnumbered Now

Seriously, we’re all excited. Sure there were moments where I envisioned shopping for dresses with Mom-E, and polishing my shotgun on the porch. And I still hold on to hopes of having a daughter someday. But that's a personal decision for Mom-E and I some time down the road.

However, we feel completely blessed to have a third son who appears to be healthy. Apparently, it is our mission in life right now to produce a small army of sweet, handsome, polite, well-adjusted, and compassionate boys who we hope will:
a. Make the dads of three girls very happy someday.
b. Make wonderful future Dad-E's (and Dad Bloggers)!

Mom-E's OB said that God never gives you more than you can handle. And with 3 boys, she must have the patience of Job.

I'd argue that she's even MORE patient than Job. I mean, Job went through a lot, but he didn't have to give birth to or breastfeed 3 boys.

At least we know Mom-E will be VERY well protected by her men.

Here’s a picture of Bab-E Brother:

There's only ONE PROBLEM. We have NO IDEA what to name him. Seriously. And so, IT'S CONTEST TIME!


If you win (i.e., we pick one of your names), Mom-E has promised to "make you something cool."

That may sound ambiguous, but take it from anyone she has ever hand-made something for, the girl does good work.

Don't forget, Mom-E has a Black Belt in Grandma Arts.

Thanks for sharing in our happy news.

Have a good weekend!

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Dad-E and Mom-E to the Rescue

Dear Big Brother and Little Brother,

I know that I won’t always be able to protect you from some of the hurtful things in life.

And that’s okay: struggle, hardship, and adversity can be powerful teachers.

However, at your young age, sometimes it’s easier for Mom-E and Dad-E to just "take care" of some things without your knowledge.

We’ve had a couple of such things here recently.

Big Brother, you were so happy to get your first Transformer, Ratchet. If you thanked me and told me you loved it once, you did so about a million times. It was very sweet.

The other night we were out shopping at Target and Babies R Us. When we got home, I figured out that we didn’t get home with Ratchet. (Fortunately, you were tired and didn’t know the difference. Though I bet you would’ve noticed in the morning). The stores were closed, and I had no idea where we’d lost him.

To make matters worse, Ratchet had been placed in my pocket for safe-keeping. (Or NOT-SO-safe-keeping.)

I felt terrible. I knew you’d be devastated with the news that I’d lost him. So, after you went to bed that night, I went back out and bought a "replacement model" at the store. Fortunately, you did not detect a difference.

Little Brother, you recently got a new pair of Elmo flip-flops that are your favorite shoes. We had just returned home from shopping (don’t ask why, but it was our third trip to the grocery store that day). It was late, well past your bedtime, and we still had groceries to unload. I realized that we’d only got home with ONE flip-flop.

So, while Mom-E rocked you, I made a 4th trip to the store. Fortunately, we were lucky, and your shoe was lying in plain sight in the parking lot, right where we’d parked. You were asleep when I got home, blissfully ignorant to the fact that we temporarily lost one of your favorite flip-flops.

I hope you boys will understand our dilemma here. It’s (relatively) easy to go out and buy replacements for some things. However, to assume that this can be always be done lessens our responsibility to take care of our possessions. It’s also neither fair nor responsible on our part as parents for you to go through childhood without experiencing some “loss and hardship”, no matter how painful.

That said, Mom-E and I love you very much, and sometimes we elect to shelter you from minor hardships. Looking back, I hope you’ll feel that we handled it well.

I love you boys,

Monday, August 3, 2009

Raiders of the Lost Tampon

(Cue music that sounds like John Williams’ “Raiders” theme, only instead of an orchestra it’s performed by an (almost) two year-old using a tampon as a kazoo.)

That’s right, Little Brother recently found Mom-E’s stash of tampons in our bathroom. Since we’re expecting, they’re not really getting much use right now. (He did not have to replace the box of tampons with a bag of sand in order to prevent the entire bathroom from crumbling apart.)

Apparently, Little Brother didn’t want them to feel neglected.


At first, he just enjoyed taking them in-and-out of the box. (An interesting way to learn counting and reading skills?)

Getting bored with that, he proceeded to tear one open. (Don’t worry, nobody’s face melted off in the process.)

In true child form (i.e., the package is always more interesting than what’s inside), Little Brother is only interested in the purple plastic applicator.

He proceeds to use it as a kazoo. (Cue music).

He then treks around the house playing his kazoo. (Cue the maps from Indiana Jones that track his progress when he flies to distant lands. Don’t worry, no monkeys were harmed in the procession.)

Later that night, we went to the grocery store. At one point, Little Brother insisted on getting out of the cart to walk. It is of course no surprise that this occurred just as we’re walking past the TAMPON AISLE (There were more boxes of tampons than boxes of artifacts placed into storage.)

Amazingly, Little Brother walked RIGHT PAST the aisle. Whew! Had he seen them, we’d probably still be trying to get him out of the store. (He’d be braiding the tampons into a whip.)

At least we won’t have to buy party favors for his second birthday party. :)

Stay tuned for the sequel: Little Brother and the Temple of Tampons.

Have a good week,