Sunday, October 14, 2007

Snippets From Syd; Pulling My Hair Out

We were on our way to church this morning, running miserably behind schedule so I was "primping" in the car. Brushing my hair, which automatically calls for me to gather all the loose hair that is dangling from the bottom edge (you know what I'm saying ladies). Our six year old, very innocently, engages in conversation with me (with an interjection from daddy)...

Child: "Mommy, why do you always pull hair out of your head?"

Mom: "Just the loose hairs, so they don't get on or go down my shirt and tickle my back."

Dad: "I told mom she should just shave her head, BALD and wear a hat."

Mom: "No, Sydney knows I can't do that. Why not Sydney?"

Child: (long pause with sincere thought)"..........................UM, because you don't have a hat?"

Mom: "No Syd, I mean, what does the Bible say a woman's hair is for?"

Child: "Oh, yeah, her covering."

At this point the entire car was filled with laughter and suggestions for this conversation to be my next blog entry. So, wha-lah!

Thursday, October 11, 2007

Ali-ism; Eating the Prophets

Every Monday I bake an insane amount of snacks for my husband to take to work with him on Tuesday for others to buy. Kind of a little side business that gives me a sweet, little "Goodwill Fund". His co-workers love the banana bread, cookies, brownies, and bread that I make so hubby has become the homemade-snack-vending-guy at work. Just the other day he came home confessing to me that he had ‘sinned’ and eaten a chunk of banana bread. That he just couldn’t help it – it was calling out his name (during one of his many snacking frenzies).

Bunny-trail for those of you who don’t know my husband - his appearance is that of a man being attacked by a killer tapeworm. He is six feet of tall, dark, handsome, and 160lbs, soaked to the skin. But the sickening thing about all of it is that he eats more that most of us put together. You can set your watch to the twenty-minute-after-supper-stomach-growl. No kidding…twenty minutes after we eat, he is in the kitchen scourging through the fridge and cupboards because his "stomach is eating his liver". I really don’t know how it all happens, but it does and it doesn’t settle with me as fair since he is the one that eats the 3000 calorie diet and I am the one that gains the weight from it as I begrudgingly suck down Slim Fast in order to counteract his super-charged, over-active, above and beyond metabolism, BREATH, but this post isn’t about his eating habits anyway.

Back to the issue at hand, him eating the banana bread. I do however want to make it clear that I DO NOT tell him that he cannot have any snacks. I, in fact, encourage him to eat more because I noticed that one of the dimples in MY southern hemisphere disappeared and I’m concerned that I will wither and blow away ;) There I go again –

So my darling husband comes in the house telling me (with ALL the dramatics) how he ate this chunk of banana bread, that he’s sorry, he won’t do it again, he just gave in to his fleshy desires, etc…. I played in by telling him it was fine, I forgive him. And with our twelve year old in ear-shot he says (as he’s acting like he’s crying) NO……. it’s not ok, I’m eating up all the profits.

Our witty twelve-ear-old chimes and tells him….

"Dad, you can’t eat the prophets, they’re already dead."

Bah-dum-bah….

Another day, another Alli-ism, another opportunity to "count it all joy".

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

Penetrating Phenomenon

I was not raised a debutante or pageant contestant, but I do recall being instructed that certain things were not allowed at the dinner table.





We have recently encountered a gross, disgusting phenomenon that literally penetrates the ambiance of our dinnertime. We could be talking about anything, today's topic of conversation was sand dollars, when all of a sudden one of my delightful daughters will turn red in the face, start laughing, and let loose with a gaseous combustion, coming from either the north or the south poles, that is not appreciated by the others at the table. Our oldest knows better and most of the time, when it happens to come from her, it is truly an accident. Our youngest ticking time-bomb, however, does this and acts as if she is doing a dutiful service for the rest of family. As if we are the ones out of line when we respond with anything other than "thank you so much for gracing us with your fragrant presence". We truly thought this was just a stage and let it go for a while. It has only continued and I am gradually loosing hair from the pollution in our home (I stay home with them all day).
Well, we put a stop to it as of today. If either one of our 'little ladies' happens to slip - she looses mealtime. Whichever meal we are partaking in. Our oldest knew we weren't joking and did well in minding her own wind tonight, but our youngest must have thought we wouldn't DARE do anything as destructive as make her go hungry. (You see, if this happens they not only are excused from the table immediately loosing THAT meal, but they are not allowed to partake in a desert (if there happens to be one) or a bedtime snack. ) About five minutes into dinner she (our youngest) let loose with a belch that made me think of the cartoon characters belching; you know the ones - mouth open wide with their lips rippling from the immense amount of airflow. Well, she looked at me to see what was going to happen. With a quick flip of my thumb I pointed to the other room and told her "You're going to be hungry - go on". Of course she went off crying and guilt set it, but I know that little things like this have to be done in order to make a change.

In any case - the next time we want wind at the dinner table we will be opening the windows.
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