Father-son time

A post from The Daddy Man:

Biscuit's school participates in the NFL-sponsored program All-Pro Dads. It's a monthly early morning gathering for dads and kids. They serve breakfast and have a speaker who talks about topics such as respect, responsibility and self-esteem. And they promote general dad involvement in families.

The program at Biscuit's school starts at 6:30 a.m. ... in other words, really early! And Biscuit wants to go every single time.

The last meeting was a couple of weeks ago, but I forgot to RSVP for us to be there. They like to have a head count so they can order just enough breakfast sandwiches. So the night before, I emailed the director and told him that we would try to be at the meeting, but for him not to worry about getting breakfast for us. The plan was to pick up breakfast on the way.

On the morning of the event, I got up and got ready. Then I got Biscuit ready. And just as we were heading for the door, I realized that I hadn't left enough time to make his lunch.

Kimmy fussed at me that evening for not waking her up, but she was sleeping so well, I just didn't have the heart to do it.

I got Biscuit's lunch put together, and as I looked at the clock, I realized that I had to give him a choice.

I said, "Dude, we can either get to All Pro Dads and not have breakfast; grab some breakfast and get to the meeting late; or you and I can miss the meeting and just go somewhere and eat breakfast, just the two of us."

"We should just go just the two of us to have breakfast," Biscuit said. "Instead of All Pro Dads, it'll be One Pro Dad." And then he giggled.

So that's what we did. We had a good morning together and had probably just as much fun as we would've had at All Pro Dads.

Lesson learned

Biscuit taught himself a lesson at school recently.

As anyone who knows him can attest, he's quite a talker. (And that's an understatement.) And whenever he gets a not-so-great color on the behavior chart, that's usually the culprit.

His first day back after the flu, Biscuit came home and said he got blue on the chart. Well, that's just one step down, so I fussed at him and told him he needed to do better, but I don't see that as a huge deal.

But when I picked him up the next day and asked him what color he got, he said, "Well, Mom, I guess I just have to tell you that you'll be getting an email from my teacher."

"Why?" I asked him.

"Well, I hate to tell you this, but I got red today," Biscuit said.

"Red?" I asked him.

"Yes," Biscuit said. "What happened was ..."

I interrupted his story to ask him to wait until we were in the car and I could hear him better.

Once we were in the car, he described how things started to go badly and went down hill from there.

We had talked before about how he shouldn't talk in class, but clearly, my message wasn't getting through.

So I said to him, "Do you realize that when you talk in class, you're basically telling your teacher that what you have to say is more important that what she has to say. And you're also keeping your friends and classmates from doing their work well."

I had used that logic before, but I hoped repeating it might catch his attention.

He listened and promised to do better ... blah, blah, blah. But I didn't feel like I had really gotten through to him.

Then a few days later, he came home and told me quite a story.

On the ride home, I always ask him what color he got on the behavior chart. Then I ask him what "special" he had (music, art, P.E., guidance, library). I ask him how his lunch was. Then I ask him to tell me the two best things that happened to him that day.

We went through all of that usual stuff, then he said, "Mom, I realized something today."

"What was that?" I asked.

"Well, we were in music today, and I was telling my teacher about a composer I like, and as I was talking, a couple of boys in my class started talking and giggling so much that I forgot what I wanted to say," Biscuit explained.

"Okay," I said. "But what was your realization?"

"I realized that it hurt my feelings when I was trying to talk and they were talking and laughing at the same time," he said. "So I figured if it made me sad when they did it, it probably makes them sad when I do it."

Eureka!!!

All the talking I've done. All the encouraging his teacher has done. And it all comes down to him getting a taste of his own medicine.

And it really has helped. He's had all good colors on the behavior chart since that day.

As much as it frustrated me that I never got through to him, it also pleases me so much that he figured it out.

Spring break at Grandmama and Papa's

Biscuit spent Spring Break at my parents' house. The reasons for his trip were threefold.

1. We didn't have to find a babysitter or somewhere for him to go.
2. Jeff and I had some time to ourselves.
3. Biscuit got to spend some good time with his grandparents.

And I think the last reason was the best one.

Biscuit had a hard time the first day he was down there. But that's pretty common. He is such a creature of routine that he has a hard time adjusting. But after that first day, he's always fine.

And he gets to do things at Grandmama and Papa's house that he doesn't get to do at home - Pop-Tarts every morning for breakfast (sometimes with chocolate milk!), snacks whenever he wants them, skipping the occasional bath, you get the picture.

And luckily, my parents are still in good health and can still play with him. He's old enough now to remember his time with them.

Like having a lightsaber fight in a store with Grandmama: 

And riding (and driving) the dune buggy:

This is a 1970 Volkswagen bug with the body taken off and replaced with roll bars. We've had this thing since I was a kid. My brother and I actually learned to drive on it. It's a stick-shift, and I remember the first time I got into an automatic. "Where's the clutch?" I asked Daddy.

I love that this thing is still around, and it's still teaching kids to drive. I think my brother's kids learned to drive on it, too.

Biscuit will get to go down there for two weeks (one in June and one in July) this summer. He seems to be excited about it already!

A surprise concert

I just realized that I never posted about a concert we went to back in April.

Since Biscuit is immersed in "Star Wars," when I saw an announcement for a music program that would feature music from the movie, I knew we had to go. But I didn't tell Biscuit. I wanted it to be a surprise.

The symphony one city over planned a performance of the John Williams' "Star Wars" songs (he's the guy who composed the music for that movie and a bunch of others), and they also included songs that inspired him to write the movie's music.

Before the concert started, there were a lot of activities set up for the kids. They had an instrument petting zoo. That's where they put orchestra instruments out and show kids how to play them. Since my brother's plays trumpet, Biscuit decided that's what he would try.

Here's how to hold it.

Blow really hard.

Enjoy the sound you made.

Next came the characters. Don't even ask me the names of most of these critters ... because I don't know them. But Biscuit did. He asked for them by name. Here's Biscuit with some of the characters he wanted to have pictures with.

Biscuit with Boba Fett.

Biscuit and a Clone.

Biscuit and Rey (from the newest movie).

Biscuit holds a Commander Stormtrooper at gunpoint.

Biscuit and a Tuscan Raider.

Biscuit battles Darth Vader.

Looks like they made friends.

Biscuit with some Stormtroopers and
Kylo Ren (from the newest movie).

The orchestra members took their seats and started to tune up their instruments. Then everything got quiet, and a fully-robed Jedi came out onstage, complete with the hood.

He stepped up on the podium and flipped back the hood. It was the conductor of the orchestra! All the kids loved that, and he got a big round of applause.

He explained that they were going to play a song from the movie, then play the song that inspired John Williams to write it. It was really cool, and you could definitely hear the influence of the songs.

At one point, they started playing "Imperial March," aka Darth Vader's song. About halfway through the song, Darth Vader and a Stormtrooper came walking out onstage.

Darth Vader stopped right in front of the conductor and held his hand up to do a "force choke." That's one of the evil powers he has. He can choke people without even touching them.

For illustration purposes.

So the conductor grabbed at his throat and pretended to stagger around. Then the Stormtrooper held the conductor at gunpoint on the side of the stage while Darth Vader conducted the rest of the song with his red lightsaber.

It got a big reaction from the crowd.

At the end, all the dressed-up characters came down and stood in front of the crowd. I was too short to take a picture, so I got Jeff to take one.

The kids got miniature lightsabers to wave around during the music, so Biscuit and I had to fight with ours after the show.

And because I've noticed that Biscuit and I don't often have photos taken together, I got Jeff to snap one of us.

It was a fun afternoon.

Boys' shopping day

A post from the Daddy Man:

Mothers Day was coming, and I decided to take Biscuit shopping.

What was I thinking?

Biscuit likes to be out and about. He behaves himself in stores. He's polite to people he meets.

But unless he's looking at toys, Biscuit is not a good shopper.

And searching through racks of purses and glass cases of jewelry in a department store, well, that's not Biscuit's idea of fun.

His heart was in the right place. He wanted to find something to match a necklace he picked out for mama a while back, a pendant with a heart-shaped ruby.

He trudged through the purses - Dad was looking for gift ideas, too - reminding me every 30 seconds or so that the jewelry department was "way over there," and we were getting farther and farther away from it with every step we took.

Needless to say, Dad didn't find anything because Dad couldn't concentrate.

So Dad gave up, and we went to the jewelry counter. And the search for red gems began.

Biscuit was in a hurry. He wanted to buy every red stone he saw -- from little-kid jewelry with red ladybugs to high-end jewelry set in platinum.

"He's got good taste," the clerk said after Biscuit picked out a sapphire necklace with a $2,200 price tag. "But that's a dark orange and not red."

"And it's just a little over our budget," I said to her.

Then I turned to Biscuit.

"Hey boy," I said, "remember what we're looking for? You already got Mama a necklace. You're looking for something to match it."

"Oh yeah," Biscuit said to the clerk. "We want red heart earrings for Mom. Do you have those?"

They did not. So we thanked the clerk and headed out to another store.

Biscuit was antsy and wanted to run ahead. I told him it was OK, and he took off.

But then he stopped short and pointed inside a doorway. He'd found a jewelry store. The one that sells those Jane Seymour Open Hearts necklaces. He went in before I even got to him.

Oh joy. This should be fun.

The boy made a bee-line for the first salesman he saw.

"Excuse me," Biscuit said. "We need red heart earrings for my Mom to match her necklace."

The clerk looked at me and I nodded. He took us to one of the glass cases and prepared to start a sales pitch. He didn't get far.

"Those," Biscuit said, pointing. "The grey hearts with the red dot in the middle."

Holy cow. Mr. Impatient had actually found exactly what he was looking for - silver hearts with a small ruby in the middle.

"You sure, boy?" I said. "You don't want to keep looking?"

"Those," he repeated. "They match. And it only took us two stores."

The price was reasonable, so the clerk made the easiest sale of his career. He even gift-wrapped them for us.

Mission accomplished.

"Now can we go to the toy store?" Biscuit asked.

Recital time

I've told Jeff before that Biscuit may have gotten his music from me, but he's more Jeff on the inside. Jeff said he didn't exactly understand what that meant. But at Biscuit's recital last weekend, I found a perfect example.

Biscuit was well prepared for the recital. He knew his songs very well. By heart, even. His teacher doesn't care if they use music for recitals. He says it's more about learning to play in front of people, and that once that's not as big a deal, then he can try playing without music. His teacher is all about making sure the kids learn to feel comfortable with performing, one step at a time.

This might sound silly, but I really don't like hearing the shuffling of papers and books during recitals, so I made photocopies of Biscuit's music and put them in page protectors in a nice dark-colored binder. Some may laugh, but Biscuit said it was really easy to get from one song to the next.

Biscuit's teacher has 35 students, but only 18 of them wanted to be in the recital. The lineup was done by experience, and Biscuit was No. 12 out of 18. When his teacher told him his number at his last lesson, Biscuit asked what that meant.

"That means that there are 11 students who are less experienced than you and six who are more experienced than you," his teacher said.

"That's more than halfway to the top," I told Biscuit. "That's pretty good seeing as I didn't get to the top of the list until high school!"

"Whoa!" Biscuit said. I guess that meant he was okay with the lineup.

Last weekend was kind of crazy, and we got to the recital right before Biscuit's teacher welcomed everybody. I felt bad because Biscuit didn't get to warm up.

Every piano is different. The pressure you have to use to push down the keys is different on every keyboard. That's why you always want to do a warm-up before you start playing.

The songs the less-experienced students played were pretty short, so it didn't take long to get to Biscuit.

He walked up there and got situated. Y'all know that I want to take pictures and videos of every move the kid makes, but now that he's older, I always ask him before I take pictures and video. (Well, almost always.)

So Biscuit got settled on the piano bench and started to play. He played a few notes then stopped. And then he went back and started all over again. I don't know if he just had to get the feel of the notes (because of the lack of warming up) or if it just wasn't going the way he wanted or what, but you can see on the video below, it did not faze him in the least.

Here's where the Jeff-inside-him shows.

When I used to play in for recitals or public events (weddings, etc.), and I missed a note, my face would turn bright red, and I would question myself for the rest of the day.

The inner dialog would be something like this. "I can't believe I messed up. I practiced a lot. How could that have happened?"

But Biscuit came down after playing his two songs, and I said, "How do you feel?"

"I am SO proud of myself, Mom," Biscuit said.

There you go.

Check him out.

After everybody played, the music teacher gave out certificates and medals for assorted accomplishments.

Out of the mouth of my babe

A few things Biscuit has said recently:

A little off the top: My poor Biscuit has been asking me for over a week to get him a haircut, and honest to goodness, I just couldn't come up with a time to take him. Between the shop's hours and what we have to accomplish every day (homework, reading, piano, dinner, bath, etc.), it took me quite a while to make it happen.

I made Biscuit's appointment for Tuesday evening. When we got home, I stuck him straight in the shower to get all the hair pieces off him.

When Jeff got home, Biscuit's hair was still wet, but he walked up to Jeff and said, "Dad, do you notice anything different about me?" And he turned his head back and forth (no, not obvious at all!).

"Hey! You got your hair cut," Jeff said.

Biscuit loves to learn new words, and sometimes he gets the hang of them right away ... but sometimes he doesn't quite get it.

"I DID get my hair cut, Dad," Biscuit said. "I'll admit that it was in my eyes. I couldn't even see. I'll admit that."

Sometimes we tell him how a word should be used. But then sometimes, like this time, we just laugh at him behind his back!

Still "Star Wars": Biscuit was drinking water from a plastic cup one day, and I noticed him bring it up to his mouth, then take it back down again. I wondered what he was doing, but before I could ask, he told Jeff.

"Dad, did you know that if you breathe in a cup, you sound like Darth Vader?" Biscuit said. 

"You do?" Jeff asked.

"Yes. Yes you do," Biscuit said. "You know why? Because when you breathe into the cup, your breath is reflected back to you. And that sounds like Darth Vader."

Stinky-ness: Biscuit has seasonal allergies pretty bad in the spring, so we're used to seeing him blow his nose a lot.

One day, I saw him blowing it, and I asked if his allergies were bothering him.

"No. No they're not," Biscuit said.

"Well why are you blowing your nose?" I asked.

"I put something in the trashcan, and it stinks in there," Biscuit said. "I'm blowing my nose to get rid of the smell molecules."

"Does that work?" I asked.

"Well, my thought is that if I get rid of the smell molecules, it won't smell bad anymore," Biscuit said.

Sounds logical to me.

In trouble with Mama

My mama doesn't like to be the center of attention. I threw her a surprise birthday party one time, and I thought she was going to kill me before we even cut the cake.

And then there was her retirement party at the school where she worked. She was so shaken up that her face went from red to almost purple!

So imagine her surprise when I snapped a picture of the Life section in the Mother's Day paper and texted it to her. The editor asked staffers to submit pictures of their moms, along with a description of why the picture is important. Some were mothers and daughters or sons, and a couple of men wrote about their wives, but I wanted to write something about my mama as a grandmama.

Here it is:

See that biggest photo in the middle? Yeah, that's my mama!

I had nothing to do with the fact that the designer chose Mama's picture as the main one. She just said she thought it was the cutest one. And I didn't even write anything mushy, but Mama still gave me a hard time.

I wrote: "When my son, Griffin, was born in 2008, my relationship with my mama changed. And it was for the better. We’ve always been close, but to be able to bond over parenting was really special. She is a big part of Griffin’s life, and she does all the things with him that I remember my grannies doing with me — baking cookies, sneaking treats, keeping secrets, playing make-believe. Mama and I talk on the phone every day, usually about nothing important, but if something big does come up, I know she’ll be there. She always has been."

Biscuit spends about three weeks a year at my parents' house - spring break and two different weeks during the summer. I love that he has that time without Jeff and me around. My brother and I always spent two weeks with my grandparents in the summer.

Well, my daddy's parents lived right near us, so we saw them a lot. But the ones we visited in the summer lived 5 1/2 hours away. So we stayed two consecutive weeks. Without our parents there, my brother and I had our grandparents' undivided attention. We got to know them way better than we ever would've if our parents had been around the whole time.

And that's why I'm glad Biscuit enjoys staying with them. I know that when he's grown, he'll look back on that time with fond memories.

And besides, after I put Mama's picture in the paper, I'm not sure she's gonna let me in the house!

Baseball is almost over

Biscuit has one more baseball game left, and I haven't taken a single picture. Well, that's not technically true. I took a few with my cellphone.

Poised and ready to go.

The coaches tell the fielders, "Get your gloves dirty. Put 'em in the dirt."

I was holding my breath when I saw this happen
last week. The ball was coming straight to Biscuit.

But he snatched it up and ran it to first base. And he almost made an out.

Biscuit regales us with tales of his baseball success.

Biscuit did a good job at his game last week. He paid attention. He didn't look at any of the airplanes that flew over. He didn't play in the dirt in the infield. He knew how many outs they had, and he knew where to throw the ball if it came to him. I was very proud of him.

His age group is coach-pitch. That means that when Biscuit goes up to bat, the coach throws four pitches his way. If he doesn't hit any of them, they set up a tee for him to use. Biscuit hit two pitched balls and used the tee twice.

When they're in the field, the coach moves them around each inning. One kid in each of the usual positions, although the outfielders are more like edge-of-the-grass-fielders. Then, since the coach is pitching, there's a kid positioned on either side of the coach. Seeing as most of the kids are very good at hitting, the "pitcher" position kids get a lot of action. So they all beg and argue over who gets to play there.

Biscuit played there for an inning in the last game, and he did a good job. He got one kid out and came really close to getting a second one.


The kids have learned a lot this season. They can tell you how many outs there are, where they should throw the ball if they get it and when they need to tag the base vs. the kid. They're learning the fundamentals of the game, and you can see their confidence building.

Last year, there were so many weather events that caused game rain-outs that this season seems to have flown by. We have one more game to go.

Some more sickness

I think I'll just start copying and pasting a generic blog post about Griffin being sick. I'll just leave a blank to fill in the latest ailment.

I got an email from his teacher Tuesday, saying he was acting down and not like his usual self. She asked him if he was okay, and he told her that he felt like he feels when he has a fever.

She checked him, and sure enough, it was 99 degrees.

In her email, she said if his fever went above 99, I'd have to come get him. And about an hour later, she called. His temperature was 99.7, then 100.2, so I headed out of work.

By the time I picked him up and got him home, his temp was 102. I dosed him up with some fever reducer and tucked him in on the couch.

I can go through a website on my home laptop and access my computer at work. I can't even begin to explain how it works, but the important part is that even though I'm not sitting at my work computer, I still have access to everything on there.

And it's a good thing because the child's fever didn't go away until yesterday!

We got an appointment with his doctor Tuesday, and before we went, Jeff and I got out our records and figured out the dates of Biscuit's doctor's appointments since the beginning of the year. Tuesday was his fifth appointment since February.

The appointments were 19 to 21 days apart. They went strep throat, Flu A, strep throat, Flu B, then Tuesday, the doctor said he had tonsillitis.

My poor baby!

Jeff and I whipped out the list of appointments we had compiled and showed it to the doctor.

"I guess you guys are probably tired of this sick stuff, right?" the doctor asked.

At the same time, Jeff and I both said, "Worried, actually."

"I'm not worried," the doctor said. "He isn't losing weight. He is fine between bouts of illness. He has no lingering symptoms. When he does get sick, he gets over it very quickly."

The doctor said his theory is that there's a kid at Biscuit's school who is a strep carrier. The kid probably doesn't have any symptoms but passes it along to other kids. I asked if it was possible that Jeff and I are carriers. He said it was possible, but he would put his money on another kid.

The doctor said the threshold is if a kid has strep throat three times in six months, they usually recommend a trip to see an ENT to talk about tonsil removal. Biscuit has only had strep twice, but even so, having two different flus (after getting a flu shot) and tonsillitis might prompt us to take him anyway. Jeff and I need to discuss it some more.

Yesterday evening, Biscuit was finally feeling better. He was sitting on mine and Jeff's bed watching TV. I walked to the door and peeked around the corner at him. He started giggling because he knows that when I do that, I usually follow it up by running into the room, jumping on the bed and grabbing him. Next may be kisses or tickling or general annoyance, you know, whatever I feel like doing to him!

So I ran in and reached to grab him. Instead of lunging forward (like he and I both thought he was going to), he fell back and his head met my eye.

Of course, I told Jeff that he better behave himself or I might change my story!

Happy Mother's Day!

Biscuit came into our bedroom this morning and crawled up to snuggle with me. It was very sweet, and I could've stayed there with him forever!

But alas, he and Jeff had plans.

"Dad, we need to get working," Biscuit told Jeff.

"On what?" Jeff asked, even though he clearly knew what Biscuit was talking about.

"Daaaaaad," Biscuit said. "You KNOW what I'm talking about. We're gonna do the thing for Mom. You know, the surprise? I don't want to spoil the beans."

"Oh yeah," Jeff said. "We don't want to spoil the beans."

Biscuit told me to stay in bed, and he and Jeff closed the bedroom door and went into the kitchen. A little while later, Biscuit brought in a tray with French toast, two cards and a present.

"Mom!" Biscuit said. He was SO excited. "Sit up. Sit up in bed and get your Mother's Day surprise!"

Biscuit made me a card and put stickers on it.

"I put balloon stickers on it because it's a celebration, and I put a baseball sticker on it because you always come to my baseball games," Biscuit said. "Then inside, I drew hearts in your favorite colors - red."

"It's really pretty, dude!" I told him. "I love it."

"The other card is from me and Dad," he said. "It's not homemade, but it has Charlie Brown and Snoopy on it, and I know you love them."

"Yes, I do," I told him.

"And look, there's a present for you," he said. "I picked it out, and I also got you a gold wrapper." (It was wrapped in gold paper.)

He had picked out pretty earrings that matched the necklace he gave me last year. Jeff can share more about the shopping experience.

"Do you know that you're the reason I get to celebrate Mother's Day?" I asked Biscuit.

He stopped talking for a minute and looked around the room. And I just wonder what he was thinking.

And I know that none of Biscuit's plans would work without Jeff. Holidays aren't as big a deal to Jeff as they are to me, but because he knows I love them, he always makes an big effort for me.

I love my boys, and they prove to me every day that they love me, too!

Out of the mouth of my babe

A few things Biscuit has said recently: 


The nose knows: Biscuit has terrible seasonal allergies. He's just so snotty right now. I feel so bad for him because it's just non-stop stuffy nose and throat-clearing.

And it's all driving Biscuit crazy.

"I got SO embarrassed at school today," Biscuit said.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Well, I was in guided reading, and I had a snot bubble in my nose," Biscuit said. "But I really didn't want to do anything about it because it was almost my turn to read."

"Could anyone else see it?" I asked.

"No, no," Biscuit said, waving his hand back and forth. "It was up inside my nose."

"What did you do?" I asked.

"I waited until it was my time to read, and then ... well, then, I read," Biscuit explained. "And then when I was done, I went to get a tissue, and I just blew and blew and blew. And then it was fine."

"If nobody could see it, why were you embarrassed?" I asked him.

"Because there was a SNOT bubble Mom," Biscuit said.

"Okay," I said. And I sort of felt scolded!


Right now: Biscuit has been in trouble for talking too much in school this week, so he's been walking on egg shells at home.

I told him to pick up his toys the other evening, and he immediately started walking toward the living room.

He stopped, turned around and said, "Mom, not only am I going to do what you asked me to, but I'm going to do it bronto!" Biscuit asked.

"Did you hear that, Dad?" I said to Jeff. "He's going to do it bronto.

Sometimes it's hard not to laugh right in the boy's face!

Appreciating your teacher

Biscuit hasn't had a great week behavior-wise. Don't worry, it's nothing major. He just can't seem to keep his mouth shut during class.

I don't often write about Biscuit misbehaving because 1. he actually doesn't do it that often and 2. I don't ever want this blog to be embarrassing for him.

But it's been a trying week!

It's also Teacher Appreciation Week, and Biscuit wanted to do something special for his teacher.

Biscuit and his teacher have a journal that they pass back and forth, and in one of his entries, he wrote about his piano competitions. She always responds to his entries, and she said she would love to hear him play sometime.

So I helped Biscuit make three short videos to send to his teacher - one of him talking and two of him playing the piano.

Check 'em out:

The whole story

Sometimes Biscuit will spend time with Jeff, and they will have conversations that I don't hear. And the opposite happens, too, with me and Biscuit.

But it often gets fun when Jeff and I start trading our separate stories and can put together the whole picture.

Like last weekend.

Biscuit was still sick with the flu, but he was getting really stir-crazy. Jeff went outside to wash the cars, so I told Biscuit to go outside and either help Jeff or just hang out with him.

Maybe 15 minutes went by when Biscuit came into the house, mumbling about something and walked down the hall to the bathroom.

"What's going on, dude?" I asked him.

"I had to come inside to pee," he said, and he sounded kind of mad about it.

"Okay," I said. "Are you going back outside?"

"Yes," he said. But he didn't elaborate.

So a couple of days later, Jeff and I were talking, and I found out why Biscuit wasn't happy about coming inside.

"He told me he had to pee," Jeff said. "So I said 'okay' and didn't think much about it. But when I looked up, he was getting ready to pee in the flower bed ... in the corner of the front yard ... 10 feet from the street ... the main street through our neighborhood!"

My parents live in the woods. You don't "stop by" their house, you have to get there on purpose. So there is no chance that anyone would ever see him peeing in the yard there. I guess he thought it was okay there, it was okay here, too.

"What did you do?" I asked Jeff.

"I told him to go in the house and do that." Jeff said. "And then he sort of stomped off."

And that's when he came in the house.

It's always fun when it all comes full circle.