A few things Biscuit has said recently:
Children vs. parent: Sometimes Jeff and I look at each other and realize that our boy is sometimes more mature than both of us.
Jeff and I get tickled over stupid things, and our boy will say, "Come on, guys," and it sounds like he's the parent scolding us.
The three of us were in the car recently, and Jeff and I saw a personalized license plate on the car in front of us. I don't remember what the plate said, but it was pretty clear what it was supposed to be.
But because of the letters they used, it was very easy to find other words and phrases in it.
Without any introduction or explanation, Jeff and I just started spouting out anything we could think of.
When Biscuit was small enough for a car seat or booster seat, he could see around him. But now, when he sits on the regular seat, he can't see. So he had no idea what we were talking about.
"Excuse me," he said. "What kind of gibberish are you people speaking?!" And he sounded so outdone and so ... teacherly.
Maybe if that inventor career doesn't work out, he can find a job calling down troublemakers!
Tuesday, October 23, 2018
Thursday, October 18, 2018
Don't cry over spilled ...
A post from The Daddy Man:
Kimmy and a friend went to see a movie tonight, so the boy and I were on our own.
Bedtime rolls around, and he got the hiccups. So he asked if he could go downstairs for a spoonful of sugar to swallow.
Some say it helps the medicine go down, but it makes my hiccups go away. And the boy says it works for him, too. You have to swallow it dry without letting it dissolve. I don't know the exact science behind it, but it's something about changing your breathing pattern.
I was sitting quietly, waiting for him to come back upstairs. Suddenly, I hear "BOOM!" And I realized, it was plastic hitting the floor. You know, like a canister of sugar.
So I walked downstairs and rounded the corner and there he was, standing in a big pile of sugar.
He looked at me in a panic and said, "How'd you know?"
"Dude! It sounded like a bomb went off down here," I said to him. There was probably a pound of sugar on the floor.
He said, "Um, what do we do?"
I said, "What do you mean?"
He said, "Well, do we get a bunch of water and try to mop it up with paper towels?"
I said, "Don't do that. It'll make an even bigger mess. Just get the broom and dustpan out of the closet."
I swept up most of it, and he got a smaller whisk broom and dustpan and tried to get the little bits that were left.
He had just gotten out of the shower before he came downstairs. But when he knocked the sugar down, sugar stuck to his bare feet. He was rubbing the bottom of his feet on his shins trying to get it off.
We got as much off as we could, and I sent him up to the shower again to rinse off the rest.
Before he walked back upstairs, he looked at me pitifully and asked, "Are you gonna tell Mom?"
"Don't you think she'll notice that most of her sugar is gone?" I asked him.
"Oh, yeah," he said.
"I'm gonna tell her, but don't worry about it," I told him. "It was an accident. You didn't do it on purpose. And we got it cleaned up."
I'm just glad I got down there when I did because I think he was trying to figure out a way to get it off the floor and back into the canister.
It was a sweet evening.
Kimmy and a friend went to see a movie tonight, so the boy and I were on our own.
Bedtime rolls around, and he got the hiccups. So he asked if he could go downstairs for a spoonful of sugar to swallow.
Some say it helps the medicine go down, but it makes my hiccups go away. And the boy says it works for him, too. You have to swallow it dry without letting it dissolve. I don't know the exact science behind it, but it's something about changing your breathing pattern.
I was sitting quietly, waiting for him to come back upstairs. Suddenly, I hear "BOOM!" And I realized, it was plastic hitting the floor. You know, like a canister of sugar.
So I walked downstairs and rounded the corner and there he was, standing in a big pile of sugar.
He looked at me in a panic and said, "How'd you know?"
"Dude! It sounded like a bomb went off down here," I said to him. There was probably a pound of sugar on the floor.
He said, "Um, what do we do?"
I said, "What do you mean?"
He said, "Well, do we get a bunch of water and try to mop it up with paper towels?"
I said, "Don't do that. It'll make an even bigger mess. Just get the broom and dustpan out of the closet."
I swept up most of it, and he got a smaller whisk broom and dustpan and tried to get the little bits that were left.
He had just gotten out of the shower before he came downstairs. But when he knocked the sugar down, sugar stuck to his bare feet. He was rubbing the bottom of his feet on his shins trying to get it off.
We got as much off as we could, and I sent him up to the shower again to rinse off the rest.
Before he walked back upstairs, he looked at me pitifully and asked, "Are you gonna tell Mom?"
"Don't you think she'll notice that most of her sugar is gone?" I asked him.
"Oh, yeah," he said.
"I'm gonna tell her, but don't worry about it," I told him. "It was an accident. You didn't do it on purpose. And we got it cleaned up."
I'm just glad I got down there when I did because I think he was trying to figure out a way to get it off the floor and back into the canister.
It was a sweet evening.
Thursday, October 4, 2018
Funny business
Biscuit's school has movie nights several Friday nights during the school year. It costs $8, and the kids get two slices of pizza, a drink and the movie. They also have popcorn, candy and other snacks for sale for $1 each.
All the money goes toward the fifth grade trip to Washington, so we never mind paying. And also, Biscuit loves it.
He started going to movie nights in kindergarten. The first one he went to, he didn't even know anyone who was there.
"Are you going to be okay staying without anyone you know?" I asked him.
"Sure," he said casually, "I'll just make some new friends."
And that's been the case every year since then.
Movie nights go from 5:30 to 8 p.m. Biscuit's after-school program is at the school. So we basically go to the school about 5:15, sign him out of after-school care then walk him down to the area where they watch the movies.
Our town is definitely a restaurant town, so Jeff and I don't really have time to go out to dinner during movie night. But we do try to do something. Like maybe, get some takeout and watch a movie at home.
Then about 7:45, we get in the car and drive back over to the school.
The pickup works just like regular school pickup. Cars line up in the long, winding driveway of the school, then about halfway down, you stop at a person with a walkie-talkie. You tell him or her the name of your kid, and they'll give you a number 1 through 4. When you get down to the doors, you drive up to the number the person told you, and your kid will be waiting there.
And they've been doing it so long, they have it down to a science.
We drove up to No. 3. The teacher standing there asked which kid we were there for, and we told her his name.
She called Biscuit's name, and he walked toward our car. He had an odd look on his face.
He looked at the teacher and said, "I've never seen those people before in my life!"
The teacher looked at us, and I said, "Get yourself in this car, boy!"
He started laughing, then climbed into the back seat.
While we waited on Biscuit to get his seatbelt buckled, the teacher said, "Hey, what grade are you in?"
"Fourth," Biscuit said.
"I like your sense of humor," she said. "I'm gonna make sure you're in MY class next year."
She's asking for trouble!
All the money goes toward the fifth grade trip to Washington, so we never mind paying. And also, Biscuit loves it.
He started going to movie nights in kindergarten. The first one he went to, he didn't even know anyone who was there.
"Are you going to be okay staying without anyone you know?" I asked him.
"Sure," he said casually, "I'll just make some new friends."
And that's been the case every year since then.
Movie nights go from 5:30 to 8 p.m. Biscuit's after-school program is at the school. So we basically go to the school about 5:15, sign him out of after-school care then walk him down to the area where they watch the movies.
Our town is definitely a restaurant town, so Jeff and I don't really have time to go out to dinner during movie night. But we do try to do something. Like maybe, get some takeout and watch a movie at home.
Then about 7:45, we get in the car and drive back over to the school.
The pickup works just like regular school pickup. Cars line up in the long, winding driveway of the school, then about halfway down, you stop at a person with a walkie-talkie. You tell him or her the name of your kid, and they'll give you a number 1 through 4. When you get down to the doors, you drive up to the number the person told you, and your kid will be waiting there.
And they've been doing it so long, they have it down to a science.
We drove up to No. 3. The teacher standing there asked which kid we were there for, and we told her his name.
She called Biscuit's name, and he walked toward our car. He had an odd look on his face.
He looked at the teacher and said, "I've never seen those people before in my life!"
The teacher looked at us, and I said, "Get yourself in this car, boy!"
He started laughing, then climbed into the back seat.
While we waited on Biscuit to get his seatbelt buckled, the teacher said, "Hey, what grade are you in?"
"Fourth," Biscuit said.
"I like your sense of humor," she said. "I'm gonna make sure you're in MY class next year."
She's asking for trouble!
Tuesday, October 2, 2018
Kitchen gadget
I have a lot of gadgets in my kitchen. I love them. But when it comes to small appliances, I'm not one for one-trick ponies. I like them to accomplish several tasks.
But I recently made an exception. I bought a quesadilla maker.
That's all it does — make quesadillas.
Quesadillas are one of Biscuit's favorite foods. And he doesn't care what's in them.
If we're at a Mexican restaurant, he'll get a quesadilla with black beans. But he doesn't want the beans as a side. He wants them inside the quesadilla. For some reason, that doesn't translate well. I guess since they don't have a black bean quesadilla on the menu, they just assume that the beans are the side. So most of the time, I end up prying his quesadilla apart and putting the beans in myself.
Mama got a quesadilla last Black Friday and said she's enjoyed hers. When we were down there last, she sent it home with me to try it out. And I love it.
There are no knobs or buttons. You plug the thing in and wait for the green light to come one. At that point, it's ready to go.
You don't have to use any oil or butter. Just put one tortilla down, add your filling, put the other tortilla on top, close the lid and wait a few minutes.
When you take it out, the tortillas are crispy, and the cheese is stringy and gooey.
I've done Mexican cheese and black beans, Italian cheese and pepperonis and American cheese and ham. I've even made sweet ones with peanut butter and chocolate chips, cinnamon and sugar, and Nutella. Oooo! Now that I think about it, the Nutella would be good with either bananas or strawberries.
And don't tell Biscuit, but I've recently made the switch from regular pepperoni to turkey pepperoni. And he hasn't noticed.
It has little triangle wells, so when I add the filling, I try to get it in the triangle so they'll seal.
Then you just cut on the lines. I use my pizza cutter.
When I make them for Biscuit's school lunch, I wrap them in tin foil and put them in a container. He says they're still warm at lunchtime.
It's nice to find something a little different for him to take for school lunches. I know he gets tired of sandwiches. Maybe I'll come up with some more good combinations.
But I recently made an exception. I bought a quesadilla maker.
That's all it does — make quesadillas.
Quesadillas are one of Biscuit's favorite foods. And he doesn't care what's in them.
If we're at a Mexican restaurant, he'll get a quesadilla with black beans. But he doesn't want the beans as a side. He wants them inside the quesadilla. For some reason, that doesn't translate well. I guess since they don't have a black bean quesadilla on the menu, they just assume that the beans are the side. So most of the time, I end up prying his quesadilla apart and putting the beans in myself.
Mama got a quesadilla last Black Friday and said she's enjoyed hers. When we were down there last, she sent it home with me to try it out. And I love it.
There are no knobs or buttons. You plug the thing in and wait for the green light to come one. At that point, it's ready to go.
You don't have to use any oil or butter. Just put one tortilla down, add your filling, put the other tortilla on top, close the lid and wait a few minutes.
When you take it out, the tortillas are crispy, and the cheese is stringy and gooey.
I've done Mexican cheese and black beans, Italian cheese and pepperonis and American cheese and ham. I've even made sweet ones with peanut butter and chocolate chips, cinnamon and sugar, and Nutella. Oooo! Now that I think about it, the Nutella would be good with either bananas or strawberries.
And don't tell Biscuit, but I've recently made the switch from regular pepperoni to turkey pepperoni. And he hasn't noticed.
It has little triangle wells, so when I add the filling, I try to get it in the triangle so they'll seal.
Then you just cut on the lines. I use my pizza cutter.
When I make them for Biscuit's school lunch, I wrap them in tin foil and put them in a container. He says they're still warm at lunchtime.
 |
| His cheese and pepperoni quesadilla, a homemade chocolate chip cookie and some cinnamon applesauce. |
It's nice to find something a little different for him to take for school lunches. I know he gets tired of sandwiches. Maybe I'll come up with some more good combinations.
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