Checkin’ In

This happened today. Keagan enrolled in online banking, opened a checking account, and applied for his first debit card. When the bank rep asked if we wanted to apply for non-card payment (think Apple Pay), I knew that was a big fat no. My baby and money are a dangerous pair.  (Look at him, though. He’s so yummy!)

We opened the new account with $100. I told him he had to use the money for driving related expenses - like gas - not online purchases of shoes. I know he’s in the midst of redefining his image, so I made sure he understood I can track his spending on my phone. 

Besides being super handsome, he’s funny, too. While the rep walked away from the desk, we had this convo. 

Keagan: How much is gas? Like $5 or something?

Me: $1.89 a gallon. Your truck will hold about 20 gallons of gas. 

Keagan: That’s $40 to fill up with gas! $40 every time!! How often do I need to buy it? 

Me: Your truck will get about 12 miles for every gallon. It’s about 12 miles to Madilyn’s house. 

Keagan: what?!?! It will cost me $2 to just drive to her house.

Me: And $2 to get home, plus your drive to school

Keagan: You’re paying, right? Cause that $100 will be gone in a week.

Keagan in the Kitchen

Keagan made dessert tonight - complete with a secret message. 

Anybody want to take a guess? 

He made it all on his own, but he had one hiccup with the Cool Whip and needed some advice. When he found me on the back porch, the first thing I noticed was the chocolate on his mouth, his chest, and belly. He called them his "cooking scars."

He claims his Mudd Pie is the best ever made.

That Kid!

My first week back to school means the slow cooker has been pulled out of the cabinet and put back to good use. Tonight's dinner? Roast and potatoes. I told Keagan to put the roast in the crock pot on low at 9:00.

I came home at 4:30 to this:

No roast in it, but the heating element was nice and hot. As it should. It had been on since 9:00. 

Keagan and I had a little talk. He told me my texts needed to be more explicit. I told him he needed to watch his mouth.

His punishment for showing a lack of responsibility was to complete math worksheets.

He may not have mastered cooking dinner, but he will be one heck of a math student!

Dad's Day

 

When General Mattis made this famous quote a few months ago, Wes made the comment it would be the best quote to put on a t-shirt. A few weeks ago I actually found it on Amazon and knew it would make the perfect Father's Day gift. When it arrived in the mail, though, Keagan refused to have anything to do with it. He thought the phrase "keep others awake at night" was in reference to Wes's snoring. It took a lot of convincement on my part to have him believe otherwise. 

Keagan Always Makes Me Laugh

To celebrate my birthday, my co-workers brought a cake and gifts to work on Thursday. Another group of friends took me to dinner and showered me with cheesecake and gifts after school. I came home that night with bags of treats and gifts, and Keagan said, "These are some really good friends, Mom. Don't let them go."

Saturday night all four of us went to the local theatre to see the play, "Diary of Ann Frank." At intermission, Keagan was looking through the program trying to find the actor that would play the role of Hitler. I told him Hitler wasn't in the play, and he remarked, "Well then we can just go home. I wanted to see Hitler bang the door down and find them in the attic."

Meet My Friend Brainiac

We had an episode in our house on Wednesday, and we never got around to studying Keagan's spelling list. He told me not to worry; he would study before school with Dalton. "Mom, this kid is a brainiac! He will definitely help me at before school care! He studies for a whole fifteen minutes before going to gym time. I mean this kid is so smart that he can't take the minus fours on his paper or he cries. Me? I'm like minus four? I'll take it."

That's my boy! We promote and encourage academic mediocrity every chance we get. By the way, I'm so over spelling lists! Only nine more weeks and both of the boys will be in middle school, and I will never have to review spelling words again!

He Said It

Keagan: That's a bunch of Tom Foolery, Mom, and I will not have anything to do with that.

Me: uummm, okay?

He Said It

My birthday was last Wednesday. Keagan wrote on my birthday card: "You aren't old. You still have some time left."

Wes: "Keagan, don't let the cat scratch the ottomans. They are made with Italian leather and are very expensive to replace."

Evan: "Keagan, did you know the playroom couch is made of German leather?"

Keagan: "Oooohhh! Really?"

Keagan: "I smell something! What's that good smell? It's something good, like blueberries! Mom, did you make blueberry muffins?"

"No, it's spaghetti."

"Same difference. They are both good."

Keagan: "Mom, where's the cookie roller?"

"What? Cookie roller?"

"The cookie roller. My legs hurt! I need the cookie roller to make it feel better."

(He reached in the drawer and pulled out a rolling pin and proceeded to massage his thighs with it.)

The Digital Age

Tonight Keagan and I read a book about the life of George Washington. The book was quite dated and referenced card catalogues and encyclopedias. Keagan asked me if I used a card catalogue when I was in school and I told him I did. He seemed impressed that there was a card for every book in the library. 

For the second time in maybe two weeks time I also tried to explain the use of an encyclopedia. Then he asked how a book (an encyclopedia) could hold all of the information in the world. I tried to explain it was a set of books organized alphabetically, and when he still looked at me with a perplexed look on his face, I assured him I would show him the set at Oma's house the next time we are in Texas. He then said, "Are you trying to tell me an encyclopedia is a mini-Google?" 

"Yes! I explained excitedly! That's it!"

"Well, tell Oma to keep those encyclopedia books close because her internet never works."

He Said It

 
Keagan: "Mom, are you menoplausal?"

Wes: "Where did that come from?

Keagan: "Those commercials on TV say 'Are you  menoplausal? Are you experiencing these symptoms. Then call 1-800...blah...blah."

Wes: "No, Mom is not menopausal. That happens when females have changes in hormone levels and their bodies."

Keagan: "Well, my body is changing. My foot is bigger, and I can wear a large shirt. I think this means I am menoplausal."

Keagan: "Mom, can I get a griddle like Evan?"

Me: "Evan has a griddle?"

Keagan:"Yeah, Dad got him one for football."

(It tok me a second, but I think he meant girdle.)

He Said It

This conversation took place in the car today:

Keagan: Dad, why did you go into the Army instead of going into the NFL?

Wes: Oh, Keagan! I was never good enough to make it in the NFL.

Keagan: Well, not with that kind of attitude...

What's Cold and Hot and Burns All Over?

After spending the last few days at football camp, the boys were complaining of sore legs. They were literally hobbling around the house and walking like old men when they woke up on Friday morning. I suggested they stretch their legs out, but by evening, Keagan was still hurting. To get some relief, he decided to rub some Icy Hot on his thighs. He rubbed and rubbed and rubbed. I tucked him into bed, promising his legs would feel better tomorrow.

About ten minutes later, I hear him scooting down the stairs and whimpering. When I meet him in the hallway, he cries, "It burns in all the wrong places." I am confused. He continues, "Mom, it somehow got on my parts and I'm on fire. I keep trying to hold it to make the pain go away but it isn't working. IT BUUUURRRNS!"

I rushed him to the shower, laughing the entire trip up the stairway, and told him to try to rinse as much of it off as he could. He put on clean pajamas, got back into bed, and said, "I think I have permanent damage."

Only Keagan. Evan promises it didn't burn that much; he was convinced that Keagan was being over-dramatic. He even suggested testing his theory with his own Icy Hot experiment, but Wes quickly put a stop to it.

He Said It

Keagan: "Mom, when I grow up and make it big in the NBA, the first thing I am gonna buy is a beach house for you. Then I'm gonna give some money to the American Cancer Society. Then I am gonna build houses for the homeless. But don't worry! I'll keep some money for me, too, because well...I earned it."

Me: "Oh, honey! That's so sweet. No one would expect you to give all of your money away, but it is thoughtful of you to consider how you can help others."

Two minutes later....


Keagan: "Mom, I think it would be cool to be a mailman because then you could steal everyone's birthday money. If I had a son, I would want him to be a mailman, too, so we could gather all of our stolen packages and share it."


This is something I never thought I would say: We are praying the whole NBA career comes to fruition because the alternative doesn't look promising enough.

He Said It

K: Dad, can you help me pour my cereal?

W: Keagan, let me show you how to do it so that you can do it for yourself next time. You know the saying "You teach a man to fish and you teach him to eat for a lifetime."

K: Huh?

W: It means I can show you how to pour the cereal and then you will be able to eat even if we are busy doing other things and can't pour the cereal for you. It means you should learn how to do things for yourself and not rely upon us to do everything for you. It means, Keagan, that you should be able to pour the cereal all by yourself. Teach a man to fish and you team him to eat for a lifetime. If you can learn to fish, you won't go hungry.

K: OK?! Can you get the milk?

He Said It

This year for Christmas the boys received the new Super Mario Wii game, and when they aren't in the middle of a heavily contested Madden football game, then the boys will play Mario. Tonight Keagan ran into my room with the most serious look on his face and pleaded, "Mom, come pway with us so that we can beat Browser Junior's Brother and move to the next level!"

I replied, "You mean PLLLLAY? Oh, Keagan. You know I don't a thing about playing those games. I would pop your bubble and you would die for sure."

"Mom, I didn't say play. I know you aren't good at the Wii. I said PRRRRRAY. Pray that God would help us defeat the enemy just like we pray at church." 

Emetrol, Reisling, and Book Marks

It's all a bit hazy for me now that it is fifteen years after the fact, but when I was a junior in college, I was under so much stress that I would drink bottles of Emetrol to help ease the queasiness and flu-like symptoms that persited that year. Today I am fairly certain that I had an ulcer, but I had no idea then that you could be 21 and walking around a college campus with stomach ulcers. I mean that was something reserved for fifty something year olds that drank too much and had some high powered position with some top performing company. Or so I thought.

During that year, maybe a couple of times a day, I would guzzle a swig of Emetrol, pop three Advil, and chase them with a swig of diet soda. And the pains ended until they started again.

This week I have longed for a swig or two of Emetrol. I have no idea why the queasiness has returned when life is relatively calm for us right now, but I think my younger son's collection of girls' phone numbers might be one reason. It might also involve that termite inspection bill I received in the mail this week. After that five minute walk-through of my house, I learned pest control businesses must rank in the top ten of top hourly pay. No doubt the inspector is livin' it up right now on some beach without any thoughts of bottles of Emetrol.

With a non-existant supply of meds, I decided a bottle of wine would do the trick. This past weekend I emptied the bottle myself and felt much more relaxed. That was until I noticed Keagan was using the label from my bottle of wine as a book mark in his library book! I shudder to think what his teacher thought this week when he came to school with a bookmark extolling the virtues of a nice Riesling.

Oh my goodness! You guessed it...the queasiness...it has returned. 

876-5309 Part II

My little boy and his little black book...I always knew Keagan would be the son to come home with a collection of girls' phone numbers, but I never thought it would happen in kindergarten!

Evan's Version of Today's Events:

Mom, Keagan got a girl's number today at school.

Keagan's Version:

I don't know what happened today. I was just sittin' at my desk, doin' my writin' assignment. Oh, yeah! I got candy today for doin' so good with my story about the Cowboys. Then, next thing, I find a piece of paper tucked in under my pencil box and I'm like what's this? I open it and it is Shelby's cell phone number. I'm like okay, but I won't go out with girls that toot at circle time. I can't do my skip countin' when she does that right in front of me. Then I get all confused with the community helpers. Don't worry, Mom, I told her we could be friends.

At the time, I was having a hard time discerning an appropriate response because so many wrongs just make it real difficult to know where to start.

So I asked, "What kind of candy did you get?"

He Said It

It's Saturday night and Evan and I are watching the football game. I've got a glass of wine; Evan has his cup of rootbeer. We are snuggled in the oversized chair cheering for our team when Keagan walks in. It's been hours since he has left the play room. Between Wii games, a playdate, and a game of knights, he has played all afternoon, but he walks in and notices Evan sitting so close. So that there is no doubt of which son should be the favorite, he gently reminds me: "Mom, do you know how lucky you are to have a kid like me? I'd say very, very lucky!"

Bad Words

Keagan: Mom, are the A word and B word bad words?

Me: (I have no idea what he is talking about but I nod my head.) Absolutely! You must not ever say those words, Keagan. Even thinking those words in your mind and heart is wrong and a sin in God's eye.

Keagan: What do the A word and B word start with?

I think this means that I'm not the only one who has no idea what he is talking about.

The Real Army Guy

When I picked Keagan up from school on Friday, we had this conversation.
- Mom, this was the very best day of my life.
- Really? Tell me what happened!
- It was so fun, Mom. It was the best. You won't ever believe this.
- Well, tell me. I want to hear.
- We got to rotate to stations today at school and we met a police officer, a fireman, and a REAL ARMY GUY.
- A real army guy, huh?
- Yeah, he was the best!
- Keagan, you know you have a Real Army Guy that lives with you, right?
- No, Mom, this guy is the real thing because he wears camouflage, carries a gun, and fights in wars.
- Daddy is the real thing, too, Keagan. It's because Daddy is the Army that we are living in Georgia. It's the reason why I work on a military installation. It's the reason your daddy is going to Afghanistan!
- Mom, Dad might be in the Army, but if he doesn't wear the camouflage and shoot bad guys, then he isn't the real thing.

This coming from the little boy that just emptied Wes's duffle bag and pulled out every holster and piece of equipment associated with weaponry that was stuffed under his multiple pieces of camouflage clothing. However, isn't it ironic that he associates the other soldiers' deployments with war and his dad's deployment as a peace mission?