Fall cleaning this year yielded some unexpected treasures. Since the point of my blog has always been to try to find at least ONE thing in my day that is positive, I tend to write on notepaper, the back of envelopes, the back of receipts, paper bags and once on my hand. Why? Because there are days when finding a way to make lemonade is about as likely as seeing a teenager these days NOT showing butt crack when bending over... So the notes are kinda like breadcrumbs I leave for my brain to follow. So on a scrap of paper I had written down the following (I believe this was during the second trip to the sandbox for my husband)...
While driving to the store, Rachel suggested that we send 'Daddy' a box of confetti. I asked her what she wanted to pack in the confetti?
Rachel, "Nothing. Just the confetti."
Me, "Let me get this straight. You want to send your father a box of confetti and nothing else? You wanna make him cry?"
**Giggling from the back seat (girls tend to do that a lot)**
Nicole, "That really wouldn't be as bad as if you'd put water in a vodka bottle and then sent it to him!" [I didn't mention at the time that their father probably would have preferred a Guinness instead]
**Laughter from the back seat**
Rachel, "What if we wrapped all his package stuff up in plastic and poured plaster of paris in the box. Once it hardened, we could add a little hammer and chisel and make him work to find his treasure?"
[Since Rachel is the most like her father, humor-wise, I thought this would have been poetic justice, but no, I did refrain from encouraging this idea (...but that was a really tough call). Instead, among other things, we sent him a five pack of Jones Soda Turkey Dinner]
**Now I'M groaning loudly from the FRONT seat!**
Do parents REALLY survive this journey through the teenage years?
Even if the answer is NO, the correct response here is, "Yes. Absolutely."
**Nodding wildly with the look of supreme confidence**
QOTD: "Parents are the bones on which children sharpen their teeth." Peter Ustinov