My daughter and son recently stayed at my mom’s house for the night and she treated them to dinner at a local restaurant.

The three of them were seated in a booth directly next to two men. My mom said that one of guys looked very disheveled, and the other had a beard down to his waist.

As much as my mom told him not to, my seven year old son could not stop staring. Finally, one of the men started to talk to my boy.

And, because my mom knows my son’s history, she quickly turned to the bearded man and said, “You probably shouldn’t ask him any questions. He’s very honest.”

Nice, Mom. Now we know where my son learned how to be so subtle.

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Long-time readers may remember these pictures my son drew of me and my husband. Let’s see if he’s advanced in the last year, shall we?

This is me. I am happy that he gave me legs that go all the way to my neck, but my square hair-cut isn’t very flattering. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Mommy Scissorhands.

This is my husband. As you can see by the size of his pecs, he’s been working out. The look of shock on his face is probably a reaction to the fact that I cleaned the bathrooms, because with as hairy as he is, those drains can get pretty clogged. Maybe I should give him a trim.

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Friday afternoon, I picked up my daughter at school, ran home to pick up the puppy, took her to the vet (then took her back home after her appointment), then quickly got my son and his gear together and drove him to t-ball practice. Also, what else is new? This is why I sometimes forget to breathe.

After practice, the kids and I stopped by a carry-out for some Corona milk then drove home to make a quick pit-stop before heading out to a cookout. On the way home I gave everyone jobs so that we could get to our friends’ house on time, because I knew they were waiting on us.

I told my son, “Your jobs are to take off your cleats, put your socks down the laundry chute, go to the bathroom, wash your hands and grab your Crocs.”

Then I looked in the rear view mirror at my daughter and said, “You let both dogs out and feed them.”

She nodded then asked, “What are your jobs?”

I replied, “I’m going to give the puppy her medicine, give your brother his medicine, and I need to touch up my makeup.”

My daughter questioned me, “Makeup? Why do you need to do that?”

I tried to reassure her that I wouldn’t be cutting into her play time. “I just need to touch up under my eyes.”

“Oh. I can understand that.”

I sarcastically replied, “Gee, thanks!”

“No, Mom. Just because you don’t get enough sleep and you always look so tired.”

“Uh. Thanks, again!”

“Wait. I mean, everyone needs eye makeup, but especially you.”

My daughter. The girl can dig herself in a hole and she doesn’t even need a shovel.

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My son was on the phone with my Mom, who he calls Vo-Vo (it’s Portuguese for grandma), when suddenly he blurted out, “Hey Vo-Vo! You know the biggest book in your house? Well, I love you all the pages in that book!” Apparently, he thought up a new version of his “I love you to infinity game”.

I smiled as he listened to her then he said, “Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Yeah. Well, I love you 10,000 miles.”

I looked over at my little guy, fresh from a bath, all cozy on the couch in his Mario pajamas and I started to get teary. He looked so perfect and sweet, holding the phone to his ear and it melted my heart to hear him talking to my Mom like that.

Again, he took in her reply, “Oh! Uh-huh. Well, I love you all the way into space in a rocket ship.”

He listened again as she tried to top him and I should have known the heart-melting wouldn’t last.

Because he then grew tired of his own game when he let out a big sigh then said, “You know what? I think we tied.”

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