Guy Wit for a Friday

My guys have been rather witty lately, and I thought I'd leave you laughing this weekend. Here's a few conversations that have come up in our house in the past few days.

Joel: "I think I'm getting sick. My head's stopped up and I keep coughing."

Me.: "It could be the weather. Or the amount of dust and dirt in your room."

Joel: "Yeah, I'm gonna go with the weather."
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Me: "Something stinks in here." (A common complaint at our house!)

Nicky: (Looking down the stairs to make sure Matt was in hearing distance.) "I think it's Matt."

Matt glanced up the stairs, and Nicky ran into his room.

Me: "I think he was trying to get your goat."

Matt: (As he's coming up the stairs.) "Yeah, he said it right at me."

Me: "A mature person would ignore the comment and let it go."

Matt: "Yep. A mature person would." (He disappeared into Nicky's room where I soon heard Nicky shrieking as Matt tackled him.)
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Paul: "What are you doing?"

Me: "I'm exercising because I'm old and out of shape. But in six months I'll be old and in better shape. In a year I'll be old and gorgeous."

Silence that lasts a minute too long.

Paul: "You're already gorgeous."

Me: "Thank goodness! I thought you were going to miss your cue!"
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Luke: "Do you see the hair on my chin?" (He's in a hurry to grow up, and I get questions like this all the time.)

Me: "No, but I see the zit under your nose." (I'm not in a hurry for him to grow up. And there was no hair on his chin.)
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Me: "I just finished working out with weights. What do you think of that?"

Nicky: Noncommittal shrug.

Me: "Someday I'm going to be buff and beautiful."

Nicky: (Roll of the eyes and sideways glance.) "Yeah." (Muttered under his breath) "Someday."
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If your read this post, you'll see where Nicky had a case of hive (only one, but it was huge).

Nicky: "I think I have another hive." (He pulled his shirt up so I could look at his back.)

Me: "It's nothing. It's probably a mosquito bite."

Nicky: (Muttering as he's walking away.) "Looks like a hive. Feels like a hive."
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The boys asked one day if I would cut their school work short. (They ask almost every day.)

Me: "I'm not feeling warm and fuzzy about that."

Joel: "Step outside. You'll feel warm and fuzzy then."
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In a routine conversation involving the instruction of personal hygiene:

Me: "You need to use deodorant every day."

Paul: "I do. Under both arms and on my chest."

Me: "Your chest?"

Paul: "Yeah, I sweat there too."
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And the tip of the day: If you have males in your household, it's worth it to invest in a really good toilet plunger. Have a great weekend!

Trust Me

So yesterday I spent quite a bit of time on the phone, shopping for auto insurance. My husband is one of those people who shops prices regularly in order to make sure we have the best deal. I on the other hand think it's a good idea to leave well enough alone. But hey, who listens to me? So yesterday I dutifully called companies to compare prices on our current coverage.

You know, all the bigger companies work hard in their advertising to get you to identify with their product. You can choose from a Progressive devotee in a weird white room, a charming gecko with a cockney accent, or a deep voiced man who assures you that you're in good hands. Before you've ever contacted any of these companies you've already built a relationship with their spokesperson (er, reptile.) You like them. They make you laugh or they make you trust them to the point where you don't want to let them down.

But sometimes reality is a far cry from advertising. Two of the companies I called apparently have robots to man their customer service phones. These robots spoke in monotones, clearly reading from scripts. They asked me about my vehicles, and then gave me the prices they offered. There was no attempt to actually sell me a policy. They didn't seem to make that connection. They simply gave me the information I asked for as if they were a 411 operator. When their prices were higher than what I'm currently paying, they didn't attempt to explain why their company was a better deal in other ways. (I'm not saying that kind of thing would have sold me, but they should at least make the attempt, shouldn't they?)
The third company I called was at least friendly as we went through my information. She chatted with me and actually made a somewhat painful experience almost pleasant. At least it was pleasant right up until she quoted me a price that was twice as much as what I'm paying now. Seriously. Twice as much.

The fourth company I got hold of someone who really believed in what he had to sell. He acted as though he were genuinely interested in me as a person. I don't see how he could not be when he's asking questions about what I drive and where I live and what I do for a living. He probably knows more about me now than my average friend does.

Which leads me to another point. Some of their questions seem awfully strange things to consider when quoting a policy. Does my education level really have any connection to my driving ability? How does my marital status affect my skill in operating a vehicle? Why do they need to know if I've had a driver's license since I was sixteen?

It seems to me that, if they're going to ask those kinds of questions they ought to ask ones that are more relevant. For instance, they should ask if I have a lot of friends. If I do, you'd think I'd be much more likely to be talking on the phone or texting while driving which means I'm more prone to get in an accident. Why don't they ask if I color my hair? Someone who is vain about their looks is more likely to be looking in the mirror and applying makeup than paying attention to what's in front of her. Why don't they ask how many kids I have? The more children in the car, the more chance of refereeing a fight at the same time you're driving. Definitely distracting behavior. They should want to know if I'm late all the time. That kind of behavior could cause reckless speed or the lack of use of a safety belt.

Not that I do any of those things.

So anyway I spent a couple of hours yesterday confirming the fact that, yes, we're paying the lowest possible payment we could get on car insurance. By several hundred dollars. For the next few weeks I'm avoiding the car commercials. I don't want to know if the gecko is disappointed in me.

Random Dozen #Whatever

I don't remember what week it is, but it's time for the Random Dozen. For more random dozen answers, click the link below.



1. Tell me something about your favorite teacher.

I loved Miss Hermes' English classes in college. She was brilliant, she loved what she did, and she took a genuine interest in her students. She did not play favorites, but she and I got along well enough that my friends starting calling me a "Herm-ite".

2. Tell me about one pivotal moment in your life.

After we left Uganda, I thought we were out of a full time Christian ministry for good. At first it hurt, but then I came to accept and like being a "regular" Christian. When my husband said he was ready to go back into the ministry, I wasn't really thrilled. But a couple of months after we moved here I realized I was happier than I had ever been in my life. I'm not a perfect pastor's wife, and I fail in many areas, but I'm also sure that I'm exactly where God wants me to be. There's tremendous freedom in that.

3. About favorite colors--a lot of people will ask you what it is, but I want to know why it is. What feeling or memory does it evoke?

I like both red and green, but not just in a Christmas sense. I love vivid colors; to me they're bright and happy.

4. What's a sure sign that you're getting older?

Pain and gray hair. Or the pain of gray hair.

5. Please don't sermonize, but Halloween--is it a yes or no for you?

No Halloween. But we do have a Fall Festival the following week at our church that is a hit with the entire neighborhood. This year we're adding a dunking booth to the mix. I can't wait. (To dunk someone else, I mean!)

6. What's your favorite musical?

I think I like Music Man the best. I like just about every song, and I absolutely love the hats!!

7. Are you more of a city mouse or country mouse?

First of all, I'm not a rodent. Having said that, I'm probably a city mouse. Although I would like a house in the country. But then I'd want a maid for the house because I don't want to spend the first day or two in the country cleaning a house that had been closed up for a month. And if I have a maid in the country, I'd need to have one in the city as well or the city house would feel neglected. Wait, what was the question?

8. Did you know that it is possible, for a small fee, to name a real star after someone? (It's true! Google it!) If someone were to name a star for you, would you appreciate it for its whimsy and romance, or would you say, "Are you kidding me? For $19.95 we could have gone to the movie and actually bought popcorn."

I'd really like to know what part of the galaxy you're getting your star from because I've heard of them charging $49.95 for the same thing. Secondly, I think it's rude to spurn a gift so I would say thank you, and I would probably even mention occasionally that so-and-so had named a star after me. But deep inside I'd still rather have the money. I do have to wonder, though, why we have to pay to name a star. Payment to someone indicates ownership, which, when it comes to stars, seems a little presumptuous. Or maybe that's just me.

This question comes from Paula at His Ways Are Not Our Ways.
9. What's the craziest thing you've ever been doing and texted during it? I only thought of this b/c I was about to try to text during my walking video but I didn't.

Paula, you do know that this blog is rated G, right?

I don't text very often. And I can't do two things at once, so if I'm texting, that's all I'm doing.

10. "It's not a party unless _______."

I'm there. : )

11. When you're stuck in traffic or a waiting room, what do you do to pass the time? PS: There are no magazines available.

I start out watching people, and then I imagine stories about the people I'm watching. Some of them would be amazed at the things they've done!

12. If you weren't yourself, would you be friends with you?

Okay, what kind of a question is that? If I say 'yes' I come off as incredibly arrogant and prideful. If I say 'no', I either have false humility or such a low self esteem that no one else would probably want to be friends with me either. So I'll leave it at this: sometimes I want to be around myself, and sometimes I wish I would go away and leave myself alone!

The Reason I'm Not An Icon

I've been thinking about icons lately. If you read this post you know that I will never be Martha Stewart. Or June Cleaver. I just don't have that iconic quality. Most of the time this doesn't bother me. In fact, it doesn't today. Much. At any rate, whether it bothers me or not, I got to thinking about being an icon. And I've come up with a list of ten reasons why I will never be one. In the interest of entertainment, I'm going to share them with you. And here they are.

1. I am not June Cleaver because I don't own an apron.

2. I'm not Martha Stewart because I don't own a multi-million dollar company. If I did, I have not doubt I would have more of a flair for decorating and baking.

3. I am not June Cleaver because, while I do own a strand of pearls, I don't wear them on a daily basis.

4. I am not Martha Stewart because I refuse to make lovely stocking stuffer holders for my pets' Christmas stockings.

5. I am not June Cleaver because, while wearing high heels, I have tripped up the choir steps, fallen off the platform and ended up in various other circus-style accidents. I would be dangerous wielding a vacuum cleaner in heels.

6. I am not Martha Stewart because I do not believe that my life would be better if I made wonderful little potpourri-filled sachets for my dresser drawers. I'm just happy if I can get my clothes folded before I shove them in there.

7. I'm not June Cleaver because my children are not Wally and the Beaver. (And quite frankly, I think I'm a better mother because I refrained from naming my children after rodents!)

8. I'm not Martha Stewart because I don't believe all recipes have to be completely from scratch in order to be good. And I don't always have to puree something before I serve it.

9. I'm not June Cleaver because I always thought her light bulb seemed a little dim. That raised-eyebrows-blank-stare-with-pursed-lips look can only get you so far.

10. I'm not Martha Stewart because I killed her off last week, remember?

The reason I'm thinking about this again this week is because I finally made banana bread this Sunday afternoon. I didn't really have time, but I couldn't bear to throw out a fourth batch of bananas. So I made two loaves. It took an hour and a half including baking time. That was several minutes more time than it should have taken. I know this because the bread was not quite as moist as it should have been.

Sunday evening someone at church gave me a homemade loaf of Amish Friendship Bread. It was absolutely delicious, and made my banana bread look worse than ever.

Today, less than twenty-four hours later, the Amish bread is completely gone. So are 1-1/2 loaves of banana bread. The boys didn't eat it because it was good. They ate it because it was there.

Moral of the story? Nothing I make has to be good. It just has to be available. Oh, and it always helps to know someone who is good at baking. : )

In Pursuit of Pain

I should post a warning that this may end up being a whiny post. Okay. Consider yourself warned.

For the past two weeks I have been in constant pain. Pain that ebbs and flows throughout the day, but is always with me. Pain that moves through various places in my body. Pain that keeps me awake at night and makes me move slowly when getting up out of a chair. What is the cause of this pain you ask? Well, even if you didn't ask, I'm going to tell you.

I'm in pain because I'm trying to get healthy. I'm trying to get fit. I'm exercising like an insane person. Actually, I've always thought that people that liked to exercise were slightly insane. I'm not sure I like it enough to be insane yet.

I'm walking a couple of times a week, and when my partner and I walk, we go about 4-1/2 miles. I bike several times a week with the boys. Last week we biked twice, once for eight miles and once for ten miles. I exercise once or twice a week on my glider, usually for about an hour at a time. I'm supposed to be working out with weights too, but somehow my body rebels at going that far.

What I find unusual is that everything I do makes me hurt in different places. And can you guess which one makes me hurt the most? Walking. That's right. Something I do every day anyway. At least to and from the car. But now that I'm walking for "fun" and exercise, it's killing me. The muscle running up the outside of leg is always hurting. My partner said that it was the IT band. She had a technical term for it, but I don't remember what it was. I'm in too much pain to concentrate. She said I need to be sure and stretch after every exercise session. I thought I was, but apparently not enough. A week ago the muscles in my lower back were so tight I was having trouble moving at all. And when people asked what was wrong, I couldn't tell them I'd lifted something the wrong way or pulled something. No I was just extremely out of shape and my body wasn't taking well to trying to fix it.

As if that weren't enough, biking makes a different set of muscles hurt. And that bike seat gets awfully uncomfortable after awhile. Biking makes my shoulder hurt too, but I think that has more to do with falling off the bike than riding it. And that was all Nicky's fault. For some reason Nicky had shoelaces that were long enough for a man's size fifteen work boot. And they were on his sneakers. The excess shoelace got caught in his bike chain. When he realized he was stuck, he pulled over to the side of the path. Right in front of me. I had already started slowing down when he said he had a problem, but I wasn't completely stopped. I put my foot down for balance, only I was already at the side of the path and there was no path left. I fell over in slow motion, never letting go of my bike. Somehow I guess I thought if I let go, that thing is going to pound the fire out of me. Instead my shoulder took the fall, followed by everything else. I got back up and brushed myself off, assuring the boys that I was okay. As we got back on our bikes, Nicky said, "Be careful, Mom. I don't want you to fall again. That was not a pretty sight." Thanks for the encouragement.

So now my shoulder hurts as well as my back an my legs. Last night in choir practice I quietly groaned every time the choir leader had us stand to sing. I thought exercise was supposed to make me feel young again. Instead I feel like I've aged forty years.

For those of you who care enough to worry that I might give up, never fear. I know I'll never get to the feeling good side unless I push through the pain. I'll continue to stretch. I'll continue to exercise. Eventually I'll discover the Nirvana that comes to those who exercise and live a fit life. You know. The insane ones.

And I'm going to change Nicky's shoelaces. Let's get real here. I've got enough pain. I don't need him adding anymore.

What Are You Missing?

Today's post is a question for you and a little chance to vent if you need to. The question is: what are you always running out of at your house? Toilet paper? Dish soap? What one thing can you count on that it will not be there when you go to use it?

For me it's two things. Batteries and light bulbs. No matter how many I have, I will run out when I need one next. If it's light bulbs I'm looking for I will not have the right size or wattage.


If it's batteries, I won't have any at all. I just don't understand this. I'll buy huge Sam's Club size packages of batteries. But then when I go to use some, all I've got are empty battery packages. The boys go through them like candy. I'm assuming they're powering their many toys and handheld gaming devices, but for all I know they could be building a huge, battery-powered robot in the garage. I can't think of anything else that would use that many batteries.

On the other side, one thing we never run out of is toilet paper. I buy some whether I think we need it or not because I can't imagine life without it!

So what about you? What's always missing from your house, or what one thing will you never be without?

Can I Get An Amen On That?

On Tuesday I blogged a little bit about the Bible study our ladies are doing this year on becoming a prayer warrior. Just studying the lessons have challenged me and made me change the way I think about prayer. I'm also attempting to put into practice the things that we're learning. And of course, as a mother it's my duty to try and share with my children the spiritual truths I'm learning. I had the opportunity to share with Matt yesterday, and although he didn't want me to, we both ended up learning more than we could imagine.

Tuesday night Matt and I had a discussion about prayer. Matt has been praying for a certain something for quite a while. He was getting discouraged and was pretty much at the point of deciding that God was saying no. He didn't want to pray about it anymore. I started asking questions about his particular request and about his prayer life in general. Then I summed up what we had learned.

1. Matt's prayer request, as far as we could tell, lined up with God's will for his life.

2. Matt is a child of God, and was faithfully asking his heavenly Father to answer this prayer.

Then I pointed out to Matt that God has promised to answer our prayers. He has obligated Himself, and therefore Matt needed to keep asking. Matt kept saying, "Do you think I haven't been?" I told him this wasn't about what he had done, this was about continuing to do. In this case, it was continuing to ask. As a Christian, he had the right and permission of God to keep asking for something that he knew was God's will.

I don't believe in putting timetables on God or setting deadlines. But I did tell Matt that I was going to pray that God would answer his prayer tomorrow, which was Wednesday. And then I did. I sensed that Matt was getting discouraged and his faith was wavering. I couldn't give him more faith, but I knew God could. So I asked God to answer the prayer, and I asked Him to answer it in such a way that Matt would see and know that we serve a God who answers prayer.

I believed that God could answer to prayer. And I begged Him to answer so Matt could see it. I prayed that night and I continued to pray. Several times during the night when I woke up because the pain in my legs from exercising wouldn't let me sleep. I decided to put the time to good use, so I prayed then. I prayed all day Wednesday as I thought of it throughout the day.

Wednesday night after church I had to stop at the store and pick up a few things. When I got home, Matt and his dad were outside, so I asked for some help carrying things in. Matt opened the car door and told me, "I just can't believe it." He went on to say that a man at church had approached him tonight and offered the very thing Matt was praying for. I said, "You mean God answered your prayer."

"Yes."

"Today. Today God answered your prayer."

"Yes. He gave me what I asked for today."

Is anybody else shouting yet, or is it just me????