Saturday, January 16, 2010
Everything comes down to poo(h)
This clip was introduced to our boys by one of our best friends, who happens to be one of those a surgical dudes who loves to describe his surgical procedures over lunch.
LY surgical dude, even though you love to gross me out.
Once my boys were hooked, they were hooked, lined and sinkered. My IL's were staying with us at the time and I distinctly remember one long car trip to town (all car trips are long in Hawaii) where my boys sang the song over and over at least 100 times until my MIL's head spun around and exploded.
She really hates the "P" word.
Bless her heart.
So my kids practiced and practiced and then performed the "P" song at our family reunion.
But the real kicker to this story is that my cutie patootie MIL had, for some odd reason, unbeknownst to us, brought a whole bag of old 1950 polyester BYU P.E. uniforms to the family reunion.
I know, random, huh?
In her cutie patootie mind she had enough for the whole famdamily to wear for our family photo.
But we, as a whole famdamily, were quite opposed to the idea of wearing polyester blue P.E. uniforms for a family photo. And we let her know it.
But she did persist mightily. And we did resist mightily.
Finally we said, "we will wear them if you wear them," thinking we had her there. No 75-year-old woman in her right mind would put on a pair of blue polyester P.E. shorts from the 50's in front of her entire family, right?
Wrong. She was not in her right mind. And I have the photographic evidence to prove it:
Thus commenced a family fashion show the likes of which I would not dare post in this private diary.
But I do dare to post the photos of my kids performing their rendition of "Check the Poo(h)" in their BYU blue.
BTW, majority trumped seniority when it came to wearing those dastardly P.E. uniforms for the family photo.
P.S. Happy Birthday to my silly goose mom!