Ava & 'Justice'

Ava and I had a date day last week.  It began with food (how could it not?) at the wild wing place, and it certainly was wild, packed, and the place was on a wait for lunch. The wings weren't bad, but $10 bucks for lunch was on the pricey side, especially for no more wings than were purchased.  I thought maybe these were some super special type of bird, but no, they tasted just like chicken . . .

From there, we made our way to Justice.  I'd never heard of this place, but Ava had.  And of course, as our future Donatello of fashion; why would she not have heard of it?  She is only 7, but she has been picking out her outfits for about 3 years now.  She matches colors, patterns, stripes; pretty amazing really when you study some of her ensems.

At 7, I was wearing high water jeans and a t-shirt.  The same kind of outfit I was wearing when I was 17.  Thankfully, Pam intervened and taught me some things about fashion.  Still to this day though, I can be stuck in a rut with certain styles that I will wear years past expiration. 

Not my little fashionista though, this girl knows how to rock an outfit.  And I do mean rock it.

So, we make it to Justice, and my eyes gloss over.  If you've never been, it's a store aimed at the tweeners with money, and bingo, did their marketing guru's ever hit the bulls eye.  This place too was packed.  And good grief, wow, look at these prices.  Parents didn't care though, they were ringing up sales in the multiple $100's one after the other.  My goal was to get Ava a nice back to school outfit, and keep it to a single $100.  Hard to do in this place.  Especially when you have a precious granddaughter in tow that knows how to work those eyes on her Pappy.

I am a sap.  People that know me know that.  I am a natural giver.  I give, give, give, and give some more.  I am a daughter Daddy, and by gosh, what is it about girls that just pull on my wallet a little more firmly?  I have an exceptionally hard time saying no.  And they know it.  I had to say no to the purple cowgirl boots tho, and it hurt to do so, but I said yes to everything else that she picked out. 

For $94 (thankfully because of 40% off), Ava got a dress, a matching jacket, a hair bow, a head band, matching earrings, and a charm bracelet for herself and her sister.

She was happy, thrilled actually, and that made my day.

Ava wanted to take my picture to end our date, so she snapped this with my new phone.  I thought she took a great picture, and I didn't even have to tell her how to do it.  She understands the symbols on my phone better than I do . . .

I am a blessed man.

The Joy of 6 Grandkids At Once

A little over 12 hours had passed since I'd last seen these 6 cast of characters from the day/night before, having already entertained them for 10+ hours on July 4th.  But, they had a date with Pappy, and it was my pleasure to have them all to myself for another 3.5 hours on July 5th.

For those of you new to my blog site; my 6 grandkids are as follows:

Jared Henry, age 8 (aka, The Reporter)
Ava Corinne, age 7 (aka, Monster)
Will Parker, age 6 (aka, WP)
Jack Arthur, age 5 (aka, Jack-Jack)
Emma Jo, age 5 (aka, Spaz)
Owen Michael, age 4 (aka, oMike)

So, since I am not one to break a date; especially a special Pappy date, our fun times continued . . .

We began with lunch at Wendy's.  Nuggets and cheeseburgers all around, and debates about what kind of a whale Shamu was (I said 'killer'), and oMike just wanted to know what kinds of things that Shamu killed.  He was enthralled with the thought of seals and sharks being eaten by whales.  The conversation totally disgusted Emma, as she turned up her nose, and just said something like "gross".

A bathroom incident was averted just in time.  Jared was trying to instigate the other boys to walk into the girls bathroom to spy on Ava & Emma.  I overheard it just as it appeared that Jack was preparing to take the lead.  It might have been oMike trying to take the lead too, but there was definitely some sparing between the two over who was going to go in first.  And no, WP, (little mister perfect) was sheepishly tucked in the back corner; wanting no part of this prank. 

But, when each of the boys heard quite sternly from me that NONE of them were going in there, and that if any of them did, that they would feel the painful sting of my hand upon their butt, they quickly retreated from the door.  The word picture immediately sparked something in oMike's brain as he quickly blurted out in his deep baritone voice, "yeah, and it will hurt like a wasp stinging you."  Yes oMike, it definitely would have, I'm just glad that you and Jared didn't have to feel the pain . . .

Jared had come to town with a bit of an attitude.  He didn't want to participate in the group hug, or the team meeting.  And when it was time to order, he told me he wasn't going to eat lunch.  Then he was, then he wasn't, then he was.  Can we say Mr. Fickle?  He and I went several rounds of negotiating/debating back and forth.  He tried to convince me that his Mom always ordered him the picture on the window (which was the double cheeseburger baconator, a beast of a sandwich). 

Well, I sniffed that deception out right away.  She might order the baconator, but she's also going to split it 3 ways and feed him on it for a week.  Jack is a very good eater, but Jared is a nibbler.  A nibble here and there.  Sure enough, after ordering the 'regular' single cheeseburger that he convinced me he would eat, he managed to eat exactly two bites, and I then wrapped up and placed in a to go bag.  (oMike finished it off at the bowling alley).  oMike was a hungry boy all day; I've never seen him eat so much throughout the day.

So, after lunch was finished, and the Haz Mat team* had come in to clean up the area where these 6 had sit; it was off to the bowling alley next door.  (Actually, Ava did an admirable job of cleaning up after all of her cousins).

*While I was ordering the meals (a challenging task in and of itself), each of them got forks, spoons, napkins, ketchup x 240, straws, lizards, pepper flakes, Asiago cheese, 9mm bullets, cool whip, smoke bombs, and anything else that they could round up from the condiment bar. Rumor has it that Spaz and Monster were trying to make it into the employee break room to confiscate some birthday cake ~ but that was only a rumor; unable to be confirmed by this Pappy.  Therefore, it will remain 'alleged'.

At the bowling alley, the task of shoe sizing was daunting.  Even with 4 of the 6 shoe sizes being written on the free bowling coupons; it was quite the circus scene, as 2 of the 4 written sizes were not the proper sizes.  Knots trying to be untied, purses thrown asunder, Jared's leftover French fries being spilled on the carpet, WP hoarding the green bowling balls, Jack falling over one of them, me trying to go back and forth from the counter to the carpet to try on another size, whew, just getting the shoes sorted was a 10+ minute undertaking.

If Jack-Jack was writing the blog today, this is what he would say:

Will
79 & 93, total 172

Owen
72 & 82, total 154

Jared
78 & 75, total 153

Jack
73 & 74, total 147

Ava
55 & 83, total 138

Emma
55 & 79, total 134

Pappy
200 & 189, total 389

And that would probably be the end of the blog.  But, that is not "the rest of the story", as there is so much more to tell:

Jack probably would not tell you much more about the day, as he is the most competitive child that I have ever been around.  I may not have shared one of his greatest lines ever, but even if I have, it is worth repeating.  Earlier this year, Jack came over to Nini's house, and burst through the door (he enters a room similar to oMike ~ like a bull.)  So he comes over to me, and I ask him "How is it going Jack?, good to see you!"  Without batting an eye (hard to do with those beautiful blue's), he looks up at me and says "Not too good Pappy, we've lost 2 of the last 3 games!"  He then saunters off.  So funny.

So here we are bowling, and Jack asks me after each frame, and each bowler, "who's winning Pappy?"  Well, after hearing it from all 6 a total of 30x, about midway through the 1st game, I educate them on how to read the scoreboard.  And that stopped the questions, as they were now always pointing up to it and analyzing the numbers themselves.  Smart move Pappy . . .

Jack was my buddy at the alley.  Whenever it was my turn to bowl, he would walk up to the foul line on the other alley and watch me bowl as closely as possible; almost every ball.  He is so observant, and he wanted to know all about why my ball hooks (he called it curves), and he asked me why I slam my arm like the umpire does just before a strike.  He certainly was interested in the nuances of my bowling style.  I loved it.

Jack was sad though that he came in last place among the boys.  But . . . he was overjoyed when he learned that he had at least beaten both girls.  He had beaten someone.  That is ALL that mattered. 

In this picture, WP is 'schooling' Ava on how to pick up the dreaded 5 - 7 - 10 conversion.  Ranked the 2nd most difficult conversion in all of bowling.  The 7 - 10 is ranked the most difficult, but I have always disagreed, as I have never seen the 5 - 7 - 10 converted, and I have seen the 7 - 10 converted.

WP had just bowled a strike, and you thought the roof was going to collapse at the celebration and jubilation of these 6 shouting, whooping, hollering, hugging, and high fiving each other.  Like he had just won the World Series.  Oh, for the simple things in life.  He was the new King.  Jared and WP had been treating me as a King, as they were amazed that I had 5 strikes in a row on my way to a respectable 200, which, had it not been for 2 back-to-back non-converted 5 - 7 splits, would have probably been a nice 235 or so.  Yes, it was a challenge to focus and hit my mark while bowling with 6 young'uns in the back ground making all kinds of chatter.

For Jared, it was all about ball speed.  He saw the MPH on the screen, and was always the most adamant that ball speed was more important than pin count.  He too thought that the heavier the ball, the better he would score.  He started with a 14 lb. ball which I told him was too heavy, and he couldn't even throw it down the alley dropping it behind him.  Trying to save face, he came back to me and told me the fingers didn't fit well, and that he usually rolls an 18 lb. ball that fits him better.  But that he bowls the best when he is able to use a 25 lb. ball. 

I didn't have the heart to break it to him that no ball is made heavier than 16 lbs.  But, I was able to use some reverse psychology on him, and was able to convince him that if he would roll a 6, 7, or 8 lb. ball like all the other kids were rolling, that because he was so strong, stronger than all of us, that he would really be able to smoke us on the MPH ball speed.  Well, it worked, he started throwing the 7 lb. ball, and was throwing it quite fast.  Not hardly hitting a thing, but he was hitting 16 or 17 MPH, and that is all that he cared about.  He was happy, so I was too.

After a few games of bowling, we took a popcorn break.  Remember the movie "Gone in 60 seconds"?, well this was the prequel, gone in 60 mille-seconds.  Wow, that was fast . . .

Onto the arcade, where $23 was gone in 6 seconds.  Wow, that was uber fast . . .

WP & Ava enjoyed the air hockey table.  oMike enjoyed the basketball, and skee ball.  Jack enjoyed the race cars and skee ball.  Jared didn't want to do anything that he told me he wasn't good at, so he focused his attention on the singular whack a mole, or whatever that lever pulling thing was.  Emma enjoyed being my shadow and just watching the insanity; as she did not want to play any of the games.

Seriously, the arcade did not last 20 minutes, but they had accumulated enough points to each woof down two laffy taffy's won by their accumulated point totals.  They each got to pick the color of laffy taffy, but they did not get to select individual prizes since I had no way of knowing how many points each of them had.

Without question, Emma was the most loving of the bunch.  They were all fantastic for me, but Emma knows how much I love hugs and kisses, and she was free flowing with them.  She melted my heart at the start of the 2nd bowling game when she tugged on my shirt, and motioned for me to bring my ear down to her mouth.  I did, and she said "Pappy, thank you for my new phone, I LOVE it!", so completely out of left field, but her little mind was ticking and she was so sweet and thoughtful to thank me at that precise moment.  Totally precious.

To end our time together, we made our trip to the ubiquitous local QT.  They were definitely jazzed when I told them they could each have 1 drink, and 1 food item, of anything they wanted.  Let's see, testing my short-term memory skills; WP had Funyons and sweet tea.  Spaz had a donut with sparkles and a sweet tea.  Monster had a large red/white/blue donut and Dr. Pepper.  Jack-Jack had a hot dog and cherry freezoni (he ate the bun, and gave the hot dog to oMike).  The Reporter had a cup of blueberry donut holes and a watermelon freezoni.  oMike had a sweet tea, and a Nestle candy bar, Jack's hotdog, and was working on his own bag of Funyons (I did not see the candy bar consumption, nor pay for it, and will make amends with QT on my next trip in, but my omission was brought to light by The Reporter). 

This allegation was confirmed by numerous other eye witnesses under the age of 6, but it slipped by my sight.  I was too busy answering unending compliments about how sweet it was, how cute they were, or wow, you've got your hands full, or, oh . . . he/she is so darling.  Yes, I was beaming with pride, lots of smiles myself, as I'd heard the same thing a half a dozen times already at Wendy's and the bowling alley.

So, to use the MasterCard cliché: Price of Wendy's: $19.  Price of Bowling Shoes/Arcade: $41.  Price of QT junk: $17.  Total investment for the afternoon of memories:  Priceless . . .

I am a blessed man.  Truly blessed.

4 Family 4th of July

My 4 of July started at approximately 20 minutes after midnight when I fell asleep, and then began again right at 5 hours later when I was up for the day. 

I had wanted to take off Thur/Fri/Sat, but did not finish all the most important things on my desk, and did wrap them up around 10a.

Then, it was full bore readiness for the day of festivities . . .

Get the ping pong table ready, take out the chairs, the bikes, the big wheels, the basketball goal, the scooter, and the electric 4 wheeler.  Burn a CD of special America songs to play on the patio.  Stock up the refrigerators (Pam had already done so), and start on the water guns. 

After all 6 of those were placed into action, start on the water balloons.  My, what a daunting task that was.  Took me well over an hour, and I think I got 50 completed.

Pizza made it here around Noon, and was soon vaporized . . .

Then, the water slide arrived.  We went in on the costs and split it 4 ways with Jan's family, Jackie's family, Angela's family, and Nini.

There was not a 4th of July water slide, so Pam got the Happy Birthday water slide; I guess because America was having its 237 birthday!

The afternoon evaporated for me as I spent approximately 4+ hours ON the water slide with the kids, and admit to having as great a time as they did.  My oh my though, how pooped I was.  Climbing up that thing wore the skin off of both knees all the way to my shins, as it was conservatively climbed every 2 minutes for 4+ hours.  My elbows were burned many times from going down on it face first on my stomach with a child laying on my back (Ava most of the time, as she was the bravest), and using my elbows as brakes to stop us at the bottom.

4p got here, and it was time to start the steaks . . .

Bring them up to room temp, season, and get the Hasty Bake started.  Hungry again as I write this.

All 4 families assisted in bringing various side items for the steaks, the best being Angela's new recipe for potato salad; and wow, after taking the vinegar quotient down just a tad ~ it was delicious.  I was disheartened somewhat though when there was none left for a late night snack.

After dinner, the kids went right back to the water slide (not much of the other Nini's house toys saw much action that day), as it was contained to 95% water slide action; the adults did some clean up, and got ready for fireworks.

Steven was finishing up his homemade bombs.  He blew up a paint can, two 5 gallon buckets, and a flower pot; and that is just what I remember.  In the immortal words of Angela "so Phil Dumbfee".

The kids did a few hours of 'daytime' fireworks while we waited for nightfall.  And finally, it was dark, and the show began.  All the families had brought their own fireworks, and for about 90 minutes put on a really enjoyable show.

The finale though was provided by our new next door neighbor.  Most of his fireworks were at the $100 a pop or better level, as I remember 5 aerials that were commercial grade.  At $100 a pop, it made for a fantastic neighborhood show.  This is one type that he shot off:
http://fireworkssupermarket.com/Product/500_Gram/RogueWave

11p came, and we were all hugging and kissing each other bye.  I took a shower, and collapsed into bed; barely able to walk.

I love my family.  I love memories like this.

I am a blessed man.

Casanova/Romeo

 

"Owen!  Owen!  I'm over here Owen!  Do you see me?  How are you doing?"  Sweet words yelled by Ryan, an absolutely darling (and very pretty) little 3 year old girl, that knows Owen from their tumbling class.  I was not able to get her picture, because just as soon as Owen had dissed her, she made her way back to her VERY pregnant Momma hoping for some positive strokes of affirmation.

 

Owen did not want Ryan's attention, not a chance, as he was making moves on her older sister Ashley shown above (who is 6), as she too was also giving Owen all kinds of attention.  The two of them were carrying on a conversation like they had been fast friends for years. 

 

This little boy's skills of persuasion will make you blush . . ., and makes the girls swoon . . ., amazing.  They stick to him like flypaper. 



"Hey Mister, can I play with your little boy?"  Why sure sweetheart, what is your name?  My name is Jacki, without the E.  Well, it is very nice to meet you Jacki, without the E, you are a pretty little girl, and your hair is awesome; how old are you?  I'm 6 but because my birthday is Sept. 29th, my Momma tells me that I am 6 going on 7.  Ok thanks, that is good to know; well, this is Owen, and he is 3, going on 30, and yes, he will be able to tell you all about the fish in this tank.  (editor's note: Jacki, without the E, was standing on a rock ledge taller than Owen's; they are actually the same height).

Owen my Owen, where forth are thou going today? 

No wonder Bass Pro is his favorite haunt in all the world; as no matter the day or time, he knows that chicks will be headed his way; and that they will be pretty little chicks too.  Yes, it is a cliché, but it truly does never cease to amaze me.

I love you oMike, see you again soon.  - Pappy