Sing Along...Pee Along...its all the same to Henry.

So I sing a bit.  My friend Mark whom I sing with, invited me to come to an old fashioned sing along down at a little church near the beach.  Fun right?  I thought, oh the kids will enjoy this!

So we head down to the beach church and are singing along.  It really was great.  Fun musicians, fun music, great setting, beautiful day.  We were all sitting in a circle on the church grounds behind the parsonage.

I am singing and look up and see Henry standing not far from the group with his back to us...looking a little suspicious....I tilt my head with a pensive look and then realize HE IS PEEING ON THE MINISTERS FLOWER GARDEN!

The look of HORROR on my face registered to the person across from me who followed my gaze to see my son pants half down watering the garden.  She started to laugh and gave me a thumbs up....(this was clearly not the ministers wife!)

My face got so red and I tried to just keep singing hoping it would be over before anyone else noticed.  It was like a scene from Austin Powers where the pee went on forever....(at least it seemed that way to me.)

I leaned over to my husband and whispered as harshly as I could "Stop him and tell him not to do that"


My husband, in between hysterical laughing whispered back "I can't stop him now, he would turn around and pee on everyone"


Needless to say...I am not sure if I dare go back to the sing along...I don't know if anyone else noticed.... but our whole family did.... Thanks Henry for eliminating one more venue from our event calendar!

An Ag Teacher Henry is NOT

So the other day we were headed to the beach.  We drove down a long road near our house that has a couple of farms on it.  We pass one and it had cows and their babies...and one baby was feeding from its mother.

Now, the thing about Henry is....he is really observant...I mean REALLY observant.  we can't take walks without having to inspect every facet of a spider web or ant hill.  I am a nature girl, and even I, after having to study the underside of an interesting leaf for 10 minutes, want to move on.

Henry of course noticed the Mamma Cow and her baby and let out an "awwwwwww, did you see that?"

I said "yes wasn't that cute?"

My daughter who was busy texting away, barely noticing that she was even in a moving vehicle said"what?"

Henry said "It was a giant Deer milking its cub!"

Hmmmmm  me thinks my teaching career has come to an end...

Wrestling the Demon Cats

So I had to take the Cats to the Vet this morning, and as I lay here in recovery I would like to tell the Vet...THIS IS WHY I CAN'T GET HERE MORE OFTEN....DON'T JUDGE ME!

It sounds like a simple task, getting your cute little kitties to the vet...but let me tell you this is a total process.  I have two cats.  That are, on any given day of the week or year, very loving and sweet cats.  They don't scratch, pee where they aren't supposed to, they even spoon with me when I am sick.  HOWEVER, when they know that somethings up...it is a whole different ball game.

I had to start three days before, when I stealthily took out the cat carriers and put them in the living room....just let them sit there for a few days.  If I wait until the day of, they know, and run away.

Then I didn't put any food in their bowls last night....now don't get all PETA on me, they weigh about 17 pounds, so neither of them is going to starve one night without food.

About an hour before I had to leave, I put food in their bowls knowing they would come running.  Then I ran around the house shutting all the doors to all the rooms and blocking the cat door that leads to the basement.

This is where the fun begins, because they just saw me do that...and now...They know...They managed to get under Henry's bed because he was trying to "help" by trapping them.  So after going under the bed with a broom stick and chasing them out I had to slam the door to make sure there was no escape.

Sugar Ray, the more amicable of the two,  (only because he is too lazy to really fight too hard,) I managed to get in his cage on try number two, having expended all the energy he felt he wanted to on the first wrestle.

But Target?  Well I think perhaps that he is having issues with his name .... He is a whole other story...I have never seen a small cat weigh as much or be as strong as this animal...being the more skittish of the two it was a real treat to get him in.

This is where I would have benefited from watching the WWF in the 80's.

After chasing him down and cornering him, I try to get my hands on him.  His fur is like bunny fur, it is so slick that it makes it hard to hold onto him..and he has the special cat power of Fur Release.  So as soon as two hands got on him he pressed his magical button and furs me, head to toe.

I find myself out of breath lying on the living room floor in a cloud of fur and Target is on the stairs. (how he got there, I have no idea because I am holding what looks like a cat worth of fur in my hands) He is calmly looking down at me...clearly saying "Oh were you trying to get me?????"

Eventually I got a hold of him with a lot of sweet talking and slow moving.  I shoved his head in the box and immediately his butt swelled up to about 3 times its normal size.  (It reminds me of me on vacation.)

I tried to push his butt in the carrier. Somehow pushing on his butt is like a lever that makes his back legs splay out.  At which point all the talons came out full fledged and latched on to anything in the vicinity, arms, shirts, couches, rug.....and by the time I got them out of one thing, they were Velcroed onto another.

Occasionally I got one back leg in, and the front leg from the other side came out.  This wrestling match went on easily 5-10 minutes, and again, with a pile of fur in the carrier I shut the door only to find him sitting calmly on the stairs looking down at me curiously.  DAMN....

After another match with the Target, I sit with sweat dripping down my face making the fur stick to my body, and bloody scratches on my legs and arms, but he is in the carrier....

By the time that I got them into the carriers and into the car, they were mad, I was mad and we were late.  They continued to meow the entire way to the vet....which I am quite certain was less meowing and more cussing me out.

I walked into the vet looking like some crazed maniac that has just come out of her Yurt in the woods with a wild bobcats that I want to make my pets.  The vet just looks at me skeptically and starts sweet talking the talon exposing demons that I have in the carriers, and eyeballing me like I might be some sort of derelict...Little does he know that I was just in a standoff in my living room with the guards of gates of hell.  Of course at the end of the appointment when its time to go home, he just slips the cats in their boxes easy as can be and they mew politely.

Grudge holding has occurred, and after letting Target out of his box when we got home, he looked at me with distain and vowed that next time he would go for the eyeballs.  I haven't seen him since, and am pretty sure he is in his lair drawing up his plans for next time.

The Good Father

So the other morning we had terrible rain storms.  The kind where the rain beats against the windows and thunder and lightening are crashing.

It mildly woke me up, but I was so tired, I just stayed with my eyes closed.

I started to hear this whispering in my door.  I figured it was Henry so I tried to pretend I was still asleep....

What  I was tired and he wasn't crying or anything, I figured I could ignore him for a short while....


Anyway, I kept hearing him run down the hall and then come back to our door and whisper...I finally started to feel a little guilty that I wasn't paying enough attention...and the whispering was getting annoying.


I finally asked Henry if he needed something...he ran over to the bed and said "The lightening is hitting my windows and I don't want the glass to fall on me"  


I allowed as to how the lightening wasn't hitting the windows it was the rain, but of course let the little terrified Henry into bed, and managed to get back to sleep for a couple more hours.


Then next morning on my way to the bathroom I see the huge pile of stuffed animals in my doorway...


"Henry, why are all your stuffed animals in our hallway?"


"I was evacuating them mom, I didn't want the lightening to break the windows and cut them"


What a good little daddy....

Big Bottoms

So Henry came into the bathroom and went potty while I was brushing my teeth.  (An always pleasant experience...I am not sure why he doesn't us HIS bathroom)

As he was leaving I noticed the seat up, and I have on a few occasions "fallen in" lately in the middle of the night.

So I politely turn to Henry and said "Buddy, you need to put the seat down after you potty."

He looked at me all irritated and said "But Why?"

"Because we have 3 girls in this house who don't go potty with the seat up and they don't want to fall in."

He looks at me and smiles and says "OH MOM, you aren't going to fall in your butt is too big."

So much for me feeling good in my jeans!  ;-)

Radio Stations to Stay Away From

Yesterday the fam and I were on our way home from church, and headed over to my grandmothers house.  Henry begs to listen to 97.9.  Which on many occasions of my protesting I have heard:

"But MOOOOOOOOM, our bus driver lets us listen to 97 dot 9"

I figure if his as old as my mom bus driver, lets him listen, then....well...I kinda have to be at least as cool as his bus driver.  I am keenly aware that my "cool mom" status is quickly running out, as my 12 year old daughter looks at me with disdain (insert rolling eyes here.) 

So we are listening to some song that I am trying to ignore the words to, and Henry doesn't seem to know them either, so I am good...he mostly waits patiently to hear "Dyn-o-mite."  It wasn't too bad.

I do tend to turn into "Mom the headmistress" when there is songs about taking clothes off on the dance floor because I can see my "country music only" husbands head start to implode.  But ultimately I try to be understanding, as a kid who listened to the Sex Pistols, the Dead Kennedy's and the Butt Hole Surfers...by virtue of the "kids pay you back for all your childhood mischief" rule, I need to allow some lenience.

THEN...

Came the Ad... for TROJAN's.  Now I am not a prude or anything, but the ad itself was a little much, and frankly, a lot much for my 5 and 9 year old.

I said "OK, time to turn the channel"

Henry says "Why?  I want a Trojan, you can't even feel it is there"

Seriously?

So much for him not really listening!