I got home from work late last night and found this:


All I could think was, " 'Cause that's what you're supposed to do with Play-Doh and crayons."

The game's over

I just found another stuffed animal, a chocolate Lab, in the cabinet under the kitchen sink.

We declared the Lab the winner of hide and seek.

PETA watch list

My son is on the PETA watch list. The reason, you ask? It has nothing to do with his abuse of live animals or bad intentions toward live animals. It has to do with what he does to the stuffed animals in his room. Or so I thought.

Currently he has Tigger stuffed under the chair in the living room. Several of Maggie's Webkinz are in the freezer. Ord, from "Dragon Tales," is in the dishwasher. He has taken a very large panda bear and tied its hands together sitting in the living room (this one I helped with). He took his favorite bear in the world and put it on the ceiling fan (it wasn't running). Sadly, I didn't help with this one, and I am very interested in how it got there.

After I had located all the stuffed animals in their precarious places, I figured it would be a good time to have a talk about being nice to animals. I called him and he came out from the laundry room. I sat him down and told him that this is not how we treat animals, real or not. One of those father/son talks. I asked him why he was doing that to the animals, and he responded, "We were playing hide and seek." I asked about the animals' hiding places and the panda. Conner's response: "Stuffed animals can't walk, so I helped them, and the panda was it, silly." The reason for tying panda's hands: "To make it fair. He's bigger than them."



From Cathy:
What Pat didn't know when he wrote this was that earlier in the morning, Conner was making plans to cut the panda's head off with his chain saw. He settled for giving the bear a buzz cut and then cramming his much-too-small baseball helmet on its head.

BFD

It is officially time to make a better effort at watching what I say around the boy. The girls have learned that when Dad says certain phrases or starts ranting like a sailor on leave, they probably shouldn't repeat that. I have made a great error with Conner. He was in the living room, and he had left his shoes and clothes in a pile after changing - something he no doubt learned from Abbey. I explained to him that they needed to be in the laundry room. When I say that I explained, I mean that I used a loud tone of voice. The tone that makes the neighbors feel that they need to call DSS. He looked at me without moving off the couch and said, "BFD, Dad, they are fine right there." Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the Father of the Year.

Yuck

A text message from Pat:

Maggie just wet willied Abbey. I'm going to pee on myself.

One guess who taught them how to do it. Hint: It wasn't me.

The dentist sucks

In order to make a new mother happy, I have a story for ya.

A couple of days ago I took the girls to the dentist for their check-ups. There are a few things that drive me nuts about a dentist's office. The first thing is that the decor in the waiting room just looks expensive. The chairs are very comfortable, the paintings and artwork are stunning. The carpet always looks brand new. The bar where the receptionists sit has a granite countertop. You just get the feeling that this going to an expensive visit every time you walk in. The least they could do is make it look like you might get out of there for less than a grand.

The next is that they could have just a little something for the kids. I realize that they hand out toothbrushes, but they claim that they are a family dentist office. A TV wouldn't kill anyone. The auto repair shop has one and it's not a family auto repair shop. No, they have nothing, so when the Category 4 hurricane that is my son made landfall at the office (with no TV), it was not a good thing. The upside is that they will get you in and out in a hurry.

The girls were the only ones getting teeth cleanings and X-rays done, so they took them at the same time. These are not dumb people. Conner had crawled under a chair and reappeared in between some high school girl's legs, popped his head up and just said "Hello." After that incident, it was all about getting the storm to move on.

Abbey's appointment went well. No cavities, but some fragments of baby teeth hanging around. They will be pulled next week. The dentist, receptionist and her parents have told her that it will be very little pain before, during and after. When this is proven to be a load of crap, which it is, look out Winston-Salem.

Maggie's appointment sucked. This is not a term that you will hear a dentist use. They should, but they don't. Not a lot of humor in a dentist's office. Maggie has no cavities but is missing 7 adult teeth. I saw the X-ray and the damn things just aren't there. So when the baby teeth fall out, she is out of luck for a natural replacement. She will be in braces early to move some teeth forward and will have implants for the spaces that can't filled.

I talked to the dentist for several minutes about this, and I asked him to ballpark the overall cost. He was thinking 12 grand give or take. For the love of god, our car and van aren't worth that.

The last thing that you do before you leave is write the check. It's normally a big check, and to make matters worse, they insist on making another apppointment for the girls so that they can get another check-up. Someone has to pay for the Queen Anne chair and one-of-a-kind Andy Warhol.

One of our kids had better be a dentist or we have to find a dentist willing to do work at cost.

Abbey's prediction

When Abbey got up this morning, she came into our room, sat down at the computer and looked at ESPN.com.

"Yes! The Steelers won."

Why is that good, I asked?

"Because every time the Redskins lose the night before an election, the White House changes parties."

Guess we know which candidate she's pulling for.