You probably have to know some of these people for this to be that funny.
Imagine a young 21 year old Seth, freshly married and sitting at an engagement party for his new sister-in- law at her parents house. She was going to get married in a few weeks. There were about 20 or so people in a room. Some I knew very well because I grew up with them in church. The others, I knew somewhat. I stood up and walked into the kitchen right about the time that someone started questioning Jane Anne's little sister about life at Virginia Tech in the Corps of Cadets. I got my drink and returned to sit next to my bride of four months. In my absence, the talk had turned to the formal gatherings of the military. Particularly, one guy was asking Jane Anne's sister about the formal dances they have and it came up that these dances are called by different names. I sat down and immediately a girl I had known for years looked at me and said, "Seth what do you call your balls?"
---------dumbfounded look on my face----------
---------looking at Jane Anne, she looks back with an expectant look on her face-----
---------everyone stares at me waiting for an answer----------
"Uh... ummmm... that's a little personal, don't cha think?"
Friday, April 27, 2007
Friday, April 20, 2007
This is my truck. There are many like it, but this one is mine. I love it. I wash it, I keep it clean inside. As much as I love it, it pales in comparison to how much my boys like it. You are thinking, "Sure, the oldest one likes it because he's been brainwashed by his dad." Wrong. Jonnie loves the truck. David Loves the Truck. But Thomas- the one that turns TWO tomorrow- Thomas REALLY loves the truck. He wants to play in the truck's bed. His favorite activity is for me to push the seats forward and let him play in the back seat. He is one fat, happy kid when he gets to play in the truck. He throws a royal fit when I have to LITERALLY drag him kicking and screaming out of it. Yesterday I had to move the truck from the driveway onto the street so Jane Anne could park the minivan in the garage. I threw (not really) Thomas into the back seat, pulled out and parked it. As I opened the door, a banshee gave birth to a Howler Monkee in my back seat. No... no, that wasn't it at all. That was Thomas expressing his deep desire NOT to get out of the truck. Since I am the man of the family and stubborn I immediately bent to his will and drove around the block as slowly as possible and talked to him about going inside as soon as we got home. Amazingly, there were two live births of banshee/ howler monkees in the truck that day.
Since someone referenced us telling the boys that I was getting out of the Army, maybe I should tell about it. We were sitting at the table (probably around a meal) and I told the boys that I was getting out. Jonathan, immediately had a HUGE smile on his face and informed us that it meant that I would NEVER have to go back to Iraq again. Jonathan came over and crawled on my lap and just hugged me as tight as his skinny little arms could. David, well, David wasn't immediately so happy. It's cool to have a dad that can let you crawl around on tanks and carries guns. But I think David has since warmed up to the idea. He is just three years old, so he doesn't know that Daddy isn't supposed to be gone for a year at a time. Thomas? Thomas just wants to play on the truck.