Well… I sat down to tell ya all about the cute/funny things my kids said this evening (and I will in just a second here) but in the 3 seconds since I opened my blogging app this happened:
Me: oh… looky here…. I can just prop my computer up on my gross belly… how convenient…
to which my less than bright husband responded: “lose the butt, gain the gut…” I looked at him – mentally weighing the pros and cons of different forms of torture, when he looked at me, apologetically and said, “you know… that’s what they say when a person gets old.”
wait… what????
Anyway, back to my evening with my children.
Abby was explaining to me how she no longer needs to attend gymnastics – “mom, I don’t love the beam or vault. Honestly, I hate them, ok they scare me. I love the uneven bars, but I have my own – I’ll youtube lessons and teach myself. All that’s left is floor and technically – cheerleading IS floor… you know, except the toe touches and the cheering part.” She’ll be a lobbyist for the cigarette companies, no doubt.
Earlier in the evening, the eldest 4 Isemingers went out to throw the ball around – and boy did we throw the ball around. I’m dumbfounded by the amount of running we do while playing catch; I’m no expert (obviously) but I really think ‘playing catch’ – if done correctly – should involve little to no leg work. I’m pretty sure I logged a half marathon this evening.
My sub-genius husband is, at the very least, exceptionally chivalrous and offered to grab an errant ball for me (nice enough, yes… but let’s be honest – he was chasing his own miscue to a nearby spot). Anyway, he grabbed the baseball I was too inept to catch, ran towards me and in true Dan fashion… at about 20 yards out – heaved the ball… right into a tree limb. He then chased the ricochet while the rest of us worked on not pissing our pants.
Incidentally, Dan and I texted quite a bit today about the kids and their need for long-toss training. He kept telling me what they needed, I’d then send him a screen shot of the instructions I’d sent to the kids an hour prior which included exactly what Dan had suggested. Being who he is… (he can’t stand to have ZERO input into a situation) he texted me (and I quote), “Hopefully they have the sense to warm up first and gradually increase the distance. I probably wouldn’t have when I was a kid…. then again, I still wouldn’t warm up first.”
hold that thought…
We headed to the field after grabbing our gloves and a couple of balls; while we were walking Cal threw me a laser, which I missed… it rolled roughly 4.16 miles. Dan , who was just coming out of the house (cold), ran it down and came up firing. “Ooooohhhhhh… owwww.” I mean… who does that? who has that little sense? especially after discussing this very situation not 5 hours prior????
Ok… back to the purpose of this entry – my kids and their funny comments.
We came across a kitten during our outing. Yeah…. you know where this is going. It started out innocently enough: Alex, Cal and I were taking turns being the kitten’s favorite. Alex mentioned how thin the kitty was and compared it to BrettFavre (the cat… not the man). I said, “I know, right? Brett is outside running around, playing constantly, yet he’s still so fat.” Cal gave me the ‘I feel his pain’ look, patted his own gullet and said, “Maybe we shoulda named him CalIseminger insteada BrettFavre.”
As the kitten continued it’s attack on my steadfast refusal to take him home, Alex and I marveled at how smitten the kitten was with Cal. I puzzled over not only this attraction but our dog’s loyalty to the boy and mentioned my surprise that Brownie sleeps in Cal’s room every night; Alex, with an offended air, said, “He has absolutely nothing to do with any of the animals and they love him… I don’t get it!” He said, “Clearly those animals know who’s the bees knees in that house.” I can’t explain it… but hearing him refer to himself as the ‘bees knees’ knocked me on my ass.
The kids begged, implorrrrrred me to accept the kitten into our home; I was in urgent need of reinforcement when Dan joined us with Abby in tow. The kitten (trying to manipulate the situation) was all over each of us without prejudice. The kids were begging, unmercifully – but Dan and I stood strong, openly scoffing at the “…this time will be different” lies. Finally Cal looked at me and gave the most convincing argument of all: “Mom, we HAVE to take this kitten… we’ve never known anybody or anything that likes all 5 of us.”
…it was such a sadly true statement… it ALMOST worked