If I were a cow . . .

I'd be a mad cow.

Get it? MAD cow?


That's the line I gave my 15-year old son last night when he was trying to get descriptive about anger in a short story he was writing for English class. He laughed when I said it. Out loud. He laughed and laughed. And laughed


Oh, man! It was the best laugh I EVER got!


So my son's guardians are out of town right now so guess who gets to babysit. That's right, me who! Woowhoo! (BTW, no, my hub and I didn't split up, it's a school boundaries guardianship.) But you know what? You gotta be careful who you let raise your kids cause he's kinda spoiled now. He's been asking me to read scriptures and make him a home lunch.



The last time he asked for a home lunch I just stuck a jar of Nutella in his back pack. That's how I roll.



And the last time he asked me to read him scriptures I opened up to Mosiah and read one verse.


"Is that it?" He said. "Read more."



So I read it again.



"Wait! That was the same verse!"he protested.



Can you believe he actually noticed??? I pull that prank on my twins all the time and they don't even bat an eyeball.



In other news, my daughter got asked to Homecoming!!! By Justin Beiber!


At least that's what she calls him.



Did you know Justin Beiber was the prom king at American Fork high? And the fastest runner on the cross country team?



Me neither! But he is. At least that's what my daughter tells me. Anyways, my daughter and I stayed up late listening to JB songs trying to change lyrics and come up with a cute reply. But you know what happens when you stay up late listening to JB songs? You catch the fever. The Beiber fever. (What a cutie patootie, right?)


Does anyone have some extra-strength Tylenol I can borrow? Anyone? Anyone?

Other than feeding my fever I haven't been doing much besides throwing parties and going out to lunch with visiting relatives from out of town. Oh, and last Friday I got to help with a funeral at the church because I'm on the compassionate service committee now.

So. Much. Fun. Fer reals. I love working with the old women as much as I loved working with the young women. Plus I have a soft spot for funerals. Not just because you get free funeral potatoes and Jello, but because people at funerals are so humble and thankful.

Loss can be flattering if you wear it well.

Capiche?

One of the fun things about working with the old women is that it's a lot like going to charm school. Setting a table for a funeral is not at all like setting a table for four teenagers who slurp their spaghetti. You gotsta be proper about it. You gotsta think about napkins pointing in or out, and silverware left or right.

I'm kind of an expert now, after getting my hands slapped a few times. Alls you have to remember is that the knife always runs away with the spoon because knives and spoons are republicans. They sit to the right of the plate. To the left sit all the forks, because they ain't afeared of same sex marriage. In other words, a fork always runs away with a fork.

Capiche?

(Notice I'm saying capiche now since I finally saw Pirates?)

Anyways, I don't have time to give anymore charm school lessons because it's my twins birthday today.


Gotsta go!

P.S. JB photos to come!