Mike's New Toy

They say you can tell the men from the boys by the size of their toys...or was that the price of their toys? Either way, Mike finally got his way and purchased a John Deere riding mower. It is pretty spiffy, I have to admit. It can practically turn on a dime and mows the lawn in about 1/4 the time it used to take. Not that I really know since I stopped mowing the lawn after the first time. Forget it! We have almost two acres and I am not sweating that much! Despite the exercise benefits! Jonathan thinks he's pretty cool being able to drive around the yard on the mower. Sammy just loves to ride!

A trip with Dad

The kids just returned a week ago from a trip to Colorado with Mike. They drove all the way to visit Mike's parents near Colorado Springs. While they were there they did tons of fun things, but the pictures they brought home mostly showed the beautiful scenery. They visited the Garden of the Gods, went on several hikes, and walked around his parents' property. Take a look at the slideshow below to see some of what they encountered while visiting Colorado.

Trip to Colorado

Things Dad Would Never Say

The top 20 things you'll never hear your dad say:

1. Can you turn up that music?
2. Go ahead and take my truck. Here's 50 bucks for gas.
3. I LOVE your tattoo. We should both get new ones.
4. It's OK that you're late. The curfew is only a suggestion.
5. Well, how 'bout that?... I'm lost! Looks like we'll have to stop and ask for directions.
6. You know Pumpkin, now that you're thirteen, you'll be ready for unchaperoned car dates. Won't that be fun?
7. Here's a credit card and the keys to my new car -- go crazy.
8. What do you mean you wanna play football? Ballet not good enough for you, son?
9. Your Mother and I are going away for the weekend ... you might want to consider throwing a party.
10. Well, I don't know what's wrong with your car. Probably one of those doo-hickey thingies-you know-that makes it run or something. Just have it towed to a mechanic and pay whatever he asks.
11. No son of mine is going to live under this roof without an earring. Now quit your bellyaching, and let's go to the mall.
12. Whaddya wanna go and get a job for? I make plenty of money for you to spend.
13. Here, you hold the remote for a while.
14. Can I do the dishes tonight? Please?
15. OK, girls, just keep talking. The ballgame will be over in a few minutes.
16. Now that you're 16, hey, feel free to take the car anytime!
17. I don't want to go to the hardware store! Let's watch the Lifetime Channel tonight!
18. Does this outfit make me look fat?
19. Boy, that George Clooney is a fantastic actor!
20. Oh, let me iron that for you.

HAPPY FATHERS' DAY!

Choices

How do you choose a paint color for your walls?
I love the names.

Not brown, but Sauteed Mushroom.
Not pink, but Love Bird.
Not gold, but Safari Sun.
Not cream, but Quiet Hush.
Not purple, but Iced Violet.
Not biege, but Toasted Almond.
Not tan, but Pony Tail.
Not green, but Crocodile Tears.
Not off white, but Crescent Moon.
Not maroon, but Raspberry Jam.
Who comes up with these?

Today I painted my bedroom a pretty light blueish-grey.
Ghost ship. Moondance. Nordic Blue. Dockside Haze.
The color I chose was April Sky.

good cop, bad cop

When you think of torture, you probably think of a chair with nails all over it. Or the rack. Or the machine from "Princess Bride" that sucks the life right out of you. Or any number of horrible devices. But, do you ever think of the bathroom scale? I honestly believe that the scale and the full length mirror are two of the world's worst torture devices for someone who is desperately trying to improve their figure.

Here's why...
Every morning, I wake up at 5:30am and head to the basement to work out. (Dedicated, I know.) Then I climb two flights of stairs to take a much needed shower. After showering, I stand in my towel looking at the bathroom scale beside the toilet. "Hmmmmm. Did that workout make a difference today?" I try to convince myself that the numbers don't matter and that it's how I feel inside that does. It's an internal battle for several seconds. Then I turn to leave the bathroom, confident that I can carry on my day without stepping onto the scale. I am actually able to leave the room sometimes. Ah, but inevitably I return before getting dressed and climb onto the scale, all the while hoping it will register at least a pound lighter than yesterday. If it does, I am overjoyed. I am sure that these early morning workouts are worth the effort. But, if the number is higher I am depressed for the day.

How can a little thing like the bathroom scale have so much control over me? Well, because I let it. I wonder what would happen if I chucked it into the trash and gave up this personal method of torture...

The other day Mike said he hated the scale in our bathroom. I assumed that it was for similar reasons. Well, he surprised me by saying it was actually because every time he got on it said a different amount. (Big surprise, right?) Except he meant that even if he stepped on, stepped off, and then stepped right back on again it would be different. Time to experiment. He was right. It actually changes each time I get on the scale.

This led me to think about our old scale. It had a similar problem. But also a positive side effect. The old scale always read about 5 pound lighter than the new one. So in my upstairs bathroom I weigh more than in the guest bathroom. Interesting! It's sort of a good cop, bad cop thing now. If I need a little boost, I will weigh in downstairs. If I want a closer dose of reality, I weigh in upstairs.

Mike suggested we purchase a more accurate scale...
Why bother when torturing ourselves in this way has become such an art?