Just enough to get me in trouble...

Italian. 

I know just enough to get me in trouble.

I took it for three years in college and by the time I graduated and we went to Italy I had no trouble getting around the country.

Well, I mean, sure I once told a worker I wanted to buy a shoe store instead of a pair of shoes but big deal!

Easy mistake, right?

The problem with knowing a little bit of a language is that people hear you say one thing and immediately assume you are fluent. 

This happens especially with the elderly. 

They were not afraid to think that I spoke perfect Italian. 

I asked a man on a vaporetto in Venice once what the name of a bird was in Italian.

Just a simple question, right?

Qual è quell'uccello chiamato?

I was hoping for a one word answer to help me build my vocabulary. 

Instead he launched into a diatribe about Venice and the pigeons and the government and I possibly heard something about a son-in-law who kills birds for a living.

Or it could have been something completely different.

Here is a conversation I had in Italian with some policemen in Bellagio:

Me: Do you speak English?

Policeman: No

Me: Ok, no problem. Can you tell me what time the next ferry gets here?

Policeman: Why did you ask me if I spoke English if you speak Italian! 

We all had a big laugh.

The best thing that ever happened due to my Italian skills though was in Siena.

I was crazy pregnant with the littlest minion and we were lost and couldn't find a taxi. 

Billy and I were...

Well, lets just say we had gotten snippy with each other.

I walked into a local restaurant and asked a group of ladies in Italian where I could find a taxi.

First: They began yelling at Billy because I was out walking so late.

Second: They made me sit down.

Third: They called a taxi for us all the while getting water for me and oohing over my belly.

And then came the diatribe by one of the women of which I understood about half. 

Apparently, she has a daughter who lives in the city and has a fancy job and makes so much money but doesn't have time for a husband AND HOW IS SHE GOING TO EVER BE A GRANDCHILD if her daughter never gets married! Does my Mother already have grandchildren? How lucky she is to have a daughter that knows what's important! Italian girls these days just don't have babies like they should!

I assume I mistranslated that capitalized part.

She also mentioned the Pope but I'm not even going to try to translate that.

Then she put her hands on my belly and spoke a blessing over me. 

It was surreal. 

"Excuse me, I'd like to buy a shoe store."

Unfortunately, it's not like riding a bike. 

You do forget it. 

That saddens me. 

I mean, it doesn't make me as sad as the poor woman was about her daughter and her fancy job but it does sadden me.

Gross things kids do...

For my readers that aren't around kids very often let me introduce you to the wonderful world of:

Gross Things That Kids Do. 

Thing the first:

They dip their Sour Patch Straws into their gatorade.

Number two:

They eat ridiculous amounts of food.

They blame the it on the fact that:

"A man's gottta do what a man's gotta do."

Number three:

They have an obsession with Bubba Teeth.

Bubba Teeth totally gross me out and I immediately throw them away whenever I find them. 

Other things that get thrown away upon sight:

Silly Bands, most lego pieces, and toys that come out of Happy Meals.

Number four:

They stick their tongues out...a lot. 

Number five:

They play in sticky places.

I'm pretty sure that kid in pigtails actively seeks out the dirtiest places she can find to play. 

So, I have a group of kids sitting around me right now and I asked them:

What gross things do your friends do?

Their answers:

1) Pick their noses

2) Mix their corn and applesauce with ketchup.

3) Use the pool as their own personal restroom.

4) Use their tee shirts as napkins.

Personally I'm shuddering at corn with applesauce and ketchup...

Ya know, I'm firmly convinced grown ups do just as many gross things. 

We just know how to not get caught. 

And now...

Since I've been very mean - according to the minions who walked by while I was writing this...

I present to you:

A video I had my friend Whitney Cooper make for Father's Day. 

Good grief, go get some counseling...

So, the Post Secret book...it's some crazy stuff.

I'm not sure how many of you have seen this coffee table/art book but if you haven't here its is:

A guy named Frank Warren came up with the concept. 

He asked people to decorate a postcard with a secret they had and send it to him anonymously.

The only caveat was that the secrets had to be truthful and they had to be something they had never told anyone before.

He got thousands of postcards

Some of them are funny:

Apparently the person who sent this in is afraid of women who wear capris.

And this one:

It was sent in by someone who still talks to her stuffed animals even though she is in college.

A lot of them had to do with church:

Mostly how much the people don't want to go. 

These kind of annoyed me. They kind of make me want to scream: 

"Newsflash. You're a grown up now. Don't go."

Many of them are really sad:

This one says:

"I hate every part of my body (except my hands.)"

Have I mentioned lately how much I love my feet?

And some of them?

Well, they hit a little too close to home.

So, you should probably send him a postcard:

And then go get some counseling. 

Managing expectations...

When I was growing up my Dad's family used to talk about a place near my Grandparent's house in the country called The Bluff Hole.

It actually doesn't deserve capitalization because I'm pretty sure it's not a proper noun but I'm making it one. 

So, there. 

Take that grammar police!

It was a spot surrounded by big rock bluffs that you could crawl onto and then jump off of into the water. 

It was only accessible through a long and arduous hike.

My Grandmom used to do it. 

She wore overalls when she did it because they didn't have the money to buy a bathing suit. 

It's strange to think about that now. 

My Grandmother climbing over rocks and the like. 

Anyway...

When I was five all the cousins took a hike to the Bluff Hole but I was deemed too young. 

"See this fork in my hand? I'm a gonna poke you with it if you don't let me go on the Bluff Hole Hike!"

Alas, too young. 

Two years ago at our annual Cousin's camp everyone went on the Bluff Hole Hike again but this was weeks away from happening:

Again, I wasn't able to go.

This year though...

Nothing was stopping me from going. 

Here some of us are at the beginning of the hike. 

The oldest minion was ready too. 

It was also his first time. 

I call this a face paint fail. 

He calls it an accurate representation of a Cyborg.

Or he would if he knew what the words accurate and representation meant. 

The hike was great. 

I got to spend time with these guys:

And, of course, I got to see the Bluff Hole.

Here it is:

Apparently the water part used to be a lot deeper.

I gotta say I was kinda...

Disappointed. 

It's just that my expectations were SO high. 

When I got back to camp I told my husband about my disappointment. 

His response?

"What were you expecting? That Glacier National was waiting for you in an unexplored hiking trail in Cullman County, Alabama?"

Well...yeah.

I mean, I kinda was expecting something like that. 

Dang. 

Foiled by expectations that were too high. 

I mean, it's not like I was expecting Shangri-la, or anything. 

Blast! I actually was expecting Shangri-la.

It's strange because, with the exception of Christmas,  I usually like to keep my expectations nice and low.

That way I'm rarely disappointed.

This time though the nostalgia of my childhood just got the best of me. 

I gotta work on managing my expectations. 

So, dear readers, what places have you visited that lived up to your expectations?

What places didn't?

Things I find perplexing tonight...

Let's take a ride on the 'this is perplexing' bus, shall we?

Thing the first:

Our local shopping mall has a photo booth. 

Here it is in all it's glory:

Remember these booths?

You'd pile in with friends and hit the button and usually take a series of notoriously bad pictures.

Well, on the side of this particular booth is this picture:

At first glance the picture looks normal but look closer.

In fact, look at the girl in the white.

I'm not sure if you can see it but her eyes are totally red!

You would think that at some point between design and manufacturing someone would have noticed that and fixed this poor girl's eyes.

It's perplexing. 

Ya know what else is perplexing?

The fact that our Junior Prom had an Elvis theme. 

Seriously!

It was called "Evening in Graceland."

My friends Betsy and Grace at the Junior Prom. 

Oh...the horror of the Junior Prom...

Let's take a little rabbit trail.

My boyfriend and I had broken up a few weeks before the junior prom. 

My friends convinced me to take a boy that was a year younger than me.

Their exact words: "Well, sure he's younger than us but look at him! So gorgeous! Just think how great the pictures will look!"

So, we went together and it was a pretty miserable night. 

It wasn't his fault. 

I just wasn't over my ex boyfriend.

I had to ask the guy, which was just embarrassing, and then suffer through my ex-boyfriend taking a senior.

All for the hope that the pictures would look great. 

And then...

We got the pictures back and it was true - they were great. 

Unfortunately, I promptly lost them.

They were in my backpack and then they were just gone. 

No clue where they went. 

All that work...all that cute boyness...and now no pictures to show for it. 

Oh well, bygones.

This also ranks up there on the perplexing scale:

My boy's role in this little monstrosity. 

I'm not sure which boy introduced her to the twenty five cent 'Bubba' teeth but she sure likes them.

And then there is this:

Dang.

Help me out here...

What's perplexing about this picture?

I intentionally took it to make a 'perplexing things' blog and now it looks totally normal.

Let's move along shall we?

Oh my. 

This blog has gone downhill fast. 

Perplexingly fast. 

Unregenerate Little Punk...

un·re·gen·er·ate [uhn-ri-jen-er-it] –adjective 

1.

not regenerate;  not renewed in heart and mind or reborn inspirit; unrepentant: an unregenerate sinner.

2.

refusing to believe in the existence of god: an unregenerateatheist; an unregenerate skeptic.

3.

unconvinced by or unconverted to a particular religion, sect,or movement; unreconstructed.

Here is my oldest minion doing what he does best in church:

 Doodling.

So...

At our church we take communion every week.

He has asked occasionally if he can participate in communion too. 

Our answer to this has always been no. 

Before you take communion we believe the child should believe at least a couple things.

Number one - that Jesus is the Son of God

and

Number two - that Jesus is their savior.

Now, if you asked my eight year if he believed those things he would probably say yes but...

If you asked pretty much any kid that had attended one session of Vacation Bible School they would probably say yes.

Plus, when asked why he wants to take communion he usually responds with:


"I'm hungry and those crackers look good."


or 


"I'm thirsty and that juice looks good."


See why we hesitate?

We read the Bible, we pray, and ever so often he'll ask a question about God and then move on. 

A few days ago we were on a long car ride and he was listening to a Mark Driscoll sermon with me entitled:

Jesus and the Children.

During the sermon the preacher addressed when children should start taking communion...

I paused my iPhone and asked my son if he was listening. 

He said yes and I turned the sermon back on the preacher then said this:

Additionally, people ask, “Well, what about Communion? When can kids take Communion?” When the parents believe they've met Jesus as God and Savior. So we let the parents decide that, and Communion's where we remember the broken body and shed blood of Jesus. And you know what? Parents, we're going to leave that up to you. We're not legalistic, we don't say, “Oh, at age ten,” whatever. If your kid knows and loves Jesus and they want to take Communion, we don't restrict that. We say all Christians who repent of sin are welcome to take of Communion, even the little guys. That's why we even have juice and wine. They get bread and juice. It's okay. My kids started taking Communion pretty young.

So, what did my child choose to say after hearing that?

"Yeah, I can see why you don't want me to take it yet."

Sigh.

Unregenerate little punk.