Skip to the Pooh My Darling

Since summer began we have instituted a program wherein the boys have to earn time on the computer by engaging in several hours of more productive time such as arts and crafts, music practice, reading, and outside time. They've been pretty good about keeping up with it, seemingly highly motivated by the opportunity to play hour after hour of Guild Wars.

The boys just got out of the new pool and then fulfilled a bit more of their outside time by taking the pooches for a walk. This resulted in a bit of an altercation because Garrett would not pick up a "nasty green pooh" delivered by Master Luke, on the excuse that he had no pooh bag (which was in his pocket). The rule is that you pick up the pooh of whichever dog is on the end of your leash. He insisted on taking Luke this time, so it was his to gather. I sent both boys back out to retrieve the turds, and apparently Weston laughed at Garrett's repeated attempts to collect the poorly constituted excrement and abandoned him part way through the process. Garrett returned in a rather ill humor, but my sympathetic attendance to his recounting of the whole affair along with a piano practice seems to have soothed him. He is currently plunking away at the piano and occasionally congratulating himself on a job well done.

Chicken Caught on Toilet and Subsequently BBQd

Browsing through the Willaims-Sonoma catalog the other day I was struck by the following photograph:



My mind works in strange ways, and I often see things that other people would simply overlook as completely normal, so I took a quick poll of my family members. "What is this chicken doing?", I asked each one. The answer was unanimous. Taking a crap. Apparently this chicken is suffering from a violent case of huskarrhea. Now that's some marketing, folks!