I celebrated my birthday yesterday at work with a class of
20-something ten year olds because everyone else, including Wes and the boys,
were off work and out of school. However, I turned my phone on to loud so that
I could hear the annoying ring tone that announced a new email and thus another
birthday wish. By 1:30, my students were able to deduce that the multiple email
notices must mean something important was going on in my life. I have never
seen them think so hard trying to figure it out.
The boys picked out a cook book for me for my birthday, and the best part is every meal in the book is to be prepared in the crock pot. For those that don't know, I have an obsession with cooking with the Pot. Because I feel like the Crock Pot is the single most important kitchen appliance, I was very pleased the boys chose this for me. I took my time perusing the wonderful receipes, but I guess the boys had done this, too, because Keagan turned to page 196 and said, "Whatcha waitin' for, Mom? Go cook this." I wasn't cooking anything, though, because Wes made reservations for us at the Olde Pink House in downtown Savannah (where I ate the most amazing meal of my life), and the boys had a reservation with the babysitter and a bowl of Ramen.
Ramen is not a staple in our house. After Wes spent a good four years of life (three in college and one in Korea) living off of Ramen, he cannot stomach the smell of it anymore. I, personally, never acquired a taste for it, and I am not ashamed to say I snub my nose at that aisle of the commissary fairly consistently. Anyway, when we tried to explain Ramen to the boys and the various flavors you can choose, Keagan asked about "flavor chicken legs", and when we gave him a dubious look, he retorted with, "I am serious about my meats, now, it's chicken legs or nothin."
They were relieved to find the babysitter had changed her mind at the last minute and had prepared a pizza. The experimentation with chicken legs flavored Ramen was a no go. No one was more relieved about this than I was. If the boys returned home raving about Ramen, I was prepared to tell them it was a delicacy found only in Far East Asia and thus, completely out of reach for us.
I know I mentioned that I felt like a very appropriate birthday gift for me would be a riding lawn mower, and although I am not changing my mind about such a purchase, I never knew that it would require me to take out a small loan. It appears my revolutionized summer vacation has been put on hold, and my birthday present will be a top of the line push mower. I figure in two more years, I will be able to pass the chore to our in-house lawn guys.
The boys picked out a cook book for me for my birthday, and the best part is every meal in the book is to be prepared in the crock pot. For those that don't know, I have an obsession with cooking with the Pot. Because I feel like the Crock Pot is the single most important kitchen appliance, I was very pleased the boys chose this for me. I took my time perusing the wonderful receipes, but I guess the boys had done this, too, because Keagan turned to page 196 and said, "Whatcha waitin' for, Mom? Go cook this." I wasn't cooking anything, though, because Wes made reservations for us at the Olde Pink House in downtown Savannah (where I ate the most amazing meal of my life), and the boys had a reservation with the babysitter and a bowl of Ramen.
Ramen is not a staple in our house. After Wes spent a good four years of life (three in college and one in Korea) living off of Ramen, he cannot stomach the smell of it anymore. I, personally, never acquired a taste for it, and I am not ashamed to say I snub my nose at that aisle of the commissary fairly consistently. Anyway, when we tried to explain Ramen to the boys and the various flavors you can choose, Keagan asked about "flavor chicken legs", and when we gave him a dubious look, he retorted with, "I am serious about my meats, now, it's chicken legs or nothin."
They were relieved to find the babysitter had changed her mind at the last minute and had prepared a pizza. The experimentation with chicken legs flavored Ramen was a no go. No one was more relieved about this than I was. If the boys returned home raving about Ramen, I was prepared to tell them it was a delicacy found only in Far East Asia and thus, completely out of reach for us.
I know I mentioned that I felt like a very appropriate birthday gift for me would be a riding lawn mower, and although I am not changing my mind about such a purchase, I never knew that it would require me to take out a small loan. It appears my revolutionized summer vacation has been put on hold, and my birthday present will be a top of the line push mower. I figure in two more years, I will be able to pass the chore to our in-house lawn guys.
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