Jellybean is a drama queen. She is often wandering around the house singing about her heart's trials and tribulations, mixed with some hymns and random oddities. Recently, she stood up to sing the responsorial psalm at one of our play "masses." She started off well and then got carried away. The final verse ended up being about 7 minutes long I think. By the time she finished we had forgotten our response and just sat quietly, wiping the tears of laughter out of our eyes. With eyes to heaven, her face a study of devotion and piety, she sang (in part)...
My husband is a 12-year old boy trapped in a man's body. I've known this for quite some time but he generally hides it well in front of others. Until he doesn't... and then he's just shockingly juvenile. Take our recent "date night" at Walmart...
It was 10:00pm and we were exiting the car just outside of StuffMart. Before getting out, the Chief took a giant swig of mouth wash. The yellow kind that tastes like poison. I thought it was odd (I guess he wanted to impress me on our special night out) so I started to nag him about it on the way to the doors of the store.
Why did you use that stuff? It's just Walmart. I don't know how you can stand it. Disgusting. Hey, where are you going to spit it out? We're getting really close to the front of the store... you can't spit it out here...
And then. Then. The man leans over the sidewalk in front of the main doors of Walmart... and pretends to vomit his mouthwash onto the concrete. Seriously. Blaaah. All over. In front of people.
I was mortified and ran into the store and he followed me laughing like a school boy. He insists that I'm being overly dramatic in the retelling. No way.
I think Professor is in detox mode from his many years of year round competitive sports. He is experiencing what it is like to do nothing much at all and I think he's enjoying it far too much. He really looks way too happy and relaxed. I think he even grew an inch.
Crash is always getting himself into scrapes. I don't know whether to laugh or cry when he comes to me with news of trouble. Even when he's not getting into trouble intentionally, it does seem to find him. His bike broke... but at least he had his roller blades. Until they broke. Cracked right down the middle. I was going to suggest that he borrow his sister's scooter until I considered the high probability of breakage. It is not unusual to see him walking by with his head bowed, fists clenched in frustration about some calamity or another.
What's wrong, Crash?
I lost my favorite (fill-in-the-blank).
My (fill-in-the-blank) is broken.
I hurt my (fill-in-the-blank).
Yesterday was a good day. Cub accidentally ripped Crash's camo tent. That was unfortunate. However, Crash was able to recover his long lost multi-tool in the lost and found box at the barn which put a huge smile on his face. And then, he was able to finish out the rest of the day without any injury or damage done. Happy boy.
In spite of the fact that I know better, I have a table at an area craft show tomorrow. I will laugh about it on Sunday. I cannot laugh about it yet.