Lessons from a three year old: Don't put bunny slippers up your nose

When your three year old says, "Dad, will you help me get this out of my nose?" You think it will work when Dad says, "Go get a tissue." And you are glad your three year old asked her dad and not you. When blowing in the tissue a few times doesn't resolve the problem you think, Mmmm... I'm still glad it's Dad solving this problem. When your three year old says "It's still in there," Dad asks, "What's in there?" and the response is, "A little shoe," you become more alert, try to keep from laughing out loud and run to the bathroom to find the twizers to remove the shoe. Hopefully the lesson will be remembered that little doll shoes in the form of a bunny slipper do not belong anywhere near noses. We thought Aunt M's episode with the crayon up her nose was lesson enough. Maybe not.

Other lessons from a three year old: Don't Paint the Cat and Always Bring Your Eyelashes

Where DO the Three Bears live?

By Bear Lake, of course. Next to the Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe. We spent last Friday and Saturday at the Bears' abode. It's a nice two bedroom, one bath house with a screened in porch with a nice view of the lake. It sleeps nineteen nicely if some don't mind finding small nocks and cranies to sleep in. But that's what bears like to do. We had a grandiose time exploring the house and it's surroundings, most exciting was the lake. Three of us were fortunate to come home with a $1 sweetshirt from Montpelier, Idaho because one of those three didn't pack warm clothes. Many, I dare say, all involved where glad the sun came out and the clouds drift off in the afternoon. I don't know if I have seen my outdoor loving husband more excited to see good weather beacuse then the new boat could be set sail. Others were glad to explore the beach and stick their toes in the water. We're glad the Bear Lake monster didn't appear. At least we think it didn't. Thank you to the Three Bears for the use of your house. We had a fun time.

Dirt Cheap(?) and Life on the Bunk

We've been discussing the increasing cost of dirt and rocks. This is what passes for stimulating conversation around these parts. Some of the cuter members of the household feel that dirt and rocks should not be very expensive, while the more mathematically inclined have noticed that, per pound, our 3 tons of 4" - 6" cobble is a bargain compared to cereal, fruit, and babies. Apparently if rocks were cuter, we wouldn't be having this conversation.

In any case, we are using the expensive rocks and dirt in a never ending battle against weeds. It might end up being cheaper to invest in therapy to just help us accept the weeds as they are.

On a related note, I was just asked to check on kid #2 who has a knack for kicking off her covers and then waiting until 4 AM-ish to let us know. As I wrestled her back under her sheet in the dark room, something didn't seem quite right. I finally had her settled when I noticed that her feet were on the pillow and I had just buried her head. She didn't appreciate that much, but all is well now.