There's a reason we call him The Boy

Ruth has been obsessing over a reality show called "Say Yes To The Dress." I am embarrassed to admit, I have been caught wanting to watch the next episode on Netflix, even though every episode is the same. Someone goes over-budget. Someone else has the mom from you-know-where. Someone brings too many people. Someone else brings her fiance and then can't figure out why he could care less about the dress. And yet another someone also brings her fiance and he's too picky.

It doesn't matter what episode we're on, amazingly, I get sucked in. If nothing else, it gives us good girl bonding time, and I get to set her future expectations waaaay low. Sure, I have a quite a while yet before Ruth will become a bridezilla, but it doesn't hurt to start brainwashing her now.

"Don't think we'll be buying you a $12,000 dress," Jeremy told her as he passed through the living room one night while she and I were watching an episode.
"Yeah, I already told her that," I said, my eyes glazed over as we watched the next catastrophe cross the screen.
"So what kind of dress can I buy?" Ruth asked, looking up at him.
"Not a $12,000 one," he said. And he walked up the stairs without looking backward once.

Tonight on the ride to Joshua's drum lesson, Ruth asked Hannah, "So, when I go to buy my wedding dress, someday in the future..."
"The far future," I said.
"Yes, Mama, The Faaaar Future," she said. I didn't even know you could capitalize the spoken word, but apparently Ruth knows how. "As I was saying before I was interrupted, will you come with me?"
Hannah chirped "Of course!" as if it was a no-brainer. "And I'll give you loooootttssss of feedback." An ornery expression crossed her face as she rubbed her hands together in evil glee.
"I dunno, Ruth," I said, catching Hannah's expression in my rear-view mirror. "You won't get a lot of good feedback from Hannah. It won't be negative, but I can assure you it might not be positive either. I'm pretty sure you'll get some silly feedback." Hannah giggled, partly because I used her 'word of the day,' and partly because I had read her ornery little mind. Ruthie held her breath while she considered her sister for a moment, so I continued, "But I will tell you this, don't even bother dragging your brother along dress shopping to get the 'male perspective.'" I implied in so many words that he wouldn't be of much help.

Joshua, who was zoned out in the front seat throughout this whole conversation, suddenly tuned in. "Hey! Why wouldn't you want to take me?"
"Dress shopping? Wedding dress shopping?" I asked, incredulous. "Twenty seconds in you'd be fidgeting and saying 'I'm bored. They're all white. What does it matter? Just pick one, Ruth.' And then your little sister will be so upset with you."
"Yeah, well. That's true. But wait, I do have some opinion. You know. I don't like it when those dresses have...what's that called...you know, that frill thing. You know. It's long and sleek and then the frill?" He started gesturing in vain, moving his hands in a rounded motion near his mid-section, as if that was going to help us know what he was talking about. "It flares out, or balloons, or bubbles or something."
"Ruffles?" Ruthie asked.
"Lace?" Hannah guessed.
"What is the frill?" I asked.
"That thing. That thing that goes here. It goes here." He gestured again at his middle. "It's on all dresses. Only sometimes it's lower. Only I like it when it's here." he pointed at his middle again.
"You mean the Trumpet style or the Mermaid?" Ruth said reading her brother's mind.
"The WHAT?!" he said, twisting in his seat to look at her, his expression filled with amazement. "How do you KNOW these things?" he asked. It's a magical mystical power to Josh. He frequently alternates between seeing us females as nonsensical creatures who care too much about "silly" "pointless" "female" details, and being in awe that we have knowledge beyond his ken.
"The Trumpet or the Mermaid style dress. When the dress is sleek all the way down and then the skirt flares out below the butt," Ruth explained.
"EXACTLY." Joshua pointed at Ruth. "Exactly." He said with even more passionate emphasis. "I don't like those kind of dresses when the frill is below the butt."
"Frill?" I started to laugh. Ruth and Hannah joined in.
"He calls it a frill," Ruth leaned over and whispered to Hannah. Hannah nodded and looked smug in all her female wisdom.
A very put-out Joshua said, "Well, I don't know what it's called!" We were obviously ganging up on him, and he was obviously unhappy about being left out of some secret knowledge that we all seemed to share.
After a good laugh, I turned to him and said, "It's OK, Josh. We just might worry about you if you knew all about dresses, especially wedding dresses."
"Whatever," He said, crossing his arms across his chest. He turned to stare out the window. He was obviously done with the likes of us giggling females.

"And that," I said to Ruth, "Is why you don't take some men dress shopping with you."

Found a peanut...found a peanut...found a peanut, just now...

We were sitting side by side in the office, me on my laptop, him on the desktop. He was playing Lord of the Rings Online, when suddenly he said, "Ooh, Peanuts!"

From the corner of my eye, I saw him pick something up and pop it into his mouth.

"Ew." He said, and continued on with his game.

"Did you REALLY just pick up an old peanut off the computer desk and pop it into your mouth?"

"Yeah," he said, as if this was no big deal.

"I can't believe you did that!"

He laughed.

At least it wasn't a rotting apple core. I did manage to break him of leaving those for me to find in the office. Ugh.

Ms. Witty Strikes Again

"Hannah go call your sister for dinner," I said.
"SUUUUEEEEYYYY!!!" She called.

Some things never change.

When he was small, he knew how to wear me down to get what he wanted.
"Cookie?"
"No. No cookie."
"Cookie?"
"No. You're not getting a cookie."
"Cookie?"
"Nope. No cookie."
"Cookie? Cookie coookie coookie? Coooooooooooooooookie!!?? Cooookie?!?? Cookie cookie cookie?"
Three hours later, I'd hand him a cookie just to shut him up.

Recently, I realized he hasn't stopped employing the tactic that works so well for him. He's only become more subtle at it, even if his level of desperation determines his level of patience. A few weeks ago we drove past a Subway, a sandwich shop chain restaurant. "I haven't had a chicken bacon ranch in a long time."
"That's nice," I said.
The next day he said, "You know what I could go for? A chicken bacon ranch."
"And I could go for a million dollars." I said.
A few days later, "I am SO craving a chicken bacon ranch."
"And I am SO craving chocolate," I said.
After a bit he started chanting rhythmically, of course, "Chicken bacon ranch, chicken bacon ranch, chicken bacon ranch, ranch, chicken bacon ranch, bacon bacon, chicken. Chicken chicken bacon. Bacon chicken ranch. Chicken bacon ranch..."

On the way to musical practice, I bought him a chicken bacon ranch sandwich. Hey, the kid needed to eat dinner, right?

Having learned his lesson so well (mom is a huge softy), Joshua pushed his advantage yet again tonight. Because Joshua and my father have a drum lesson on Monday nights, the two of them usually go together. They also usually get a milkshake after their lesson at one of the many places near the music store. This week, however, I had to take The Boy to his lesson because my father is soaking in the sun in Florida. As expected the begging commenced the minute we stepped out onto the porch of the music store.
"You know," he said. "Pop and I always get a milkshake."
"That's nice," I said. I was fully anticipating I would stop somewhere for a milkshake. I knew there was no way I could really win against his charm, but I was not about to give the kid the satisfaction of knowing right away. I decided to play with him a little more. He decided the game was on.
"Yeah. We could stop for a milkshake."
"In case you haven't noticed? I'm not your grandfather."
"But you could still get me a milkshake."
"Notice how I do not have gray hair, yet. Nor do I sport a beard."
"So what you're trying to say is, you're not Pop."
"Exactly."
"What does that have to do with getting me a milkshake?"
"Everything. It has everything to do with getting a milkshake," I said as we happened to pass a Sheetz, a gas station/mini-mart/sandwich shop.
"I'd even settle for a milkshake from Sheetz," he said looking out the window.
"How about Carpet Mart. Would you settle for Carpet Mart?" I said as we passed the store.
"Sure. I'd settle for that..." he paused, "If they had milkshakes. Hey, where are we going anyway?"
"The Mega-Monster-Super-Duper-Craft-Store," I said. "Your sister has oil based paint all over her. I have to go pick up some non-toxic paint remover."

We pulled into the parking lot, jumped out of the car, while Joshua said, "Milkshake. I bet this store has something like a milkshake. Or candy. I'd settle for candy."
"You're not getting candy."
"Oh look," He said reading a sign on the front of the craft store, "Framing. That's one letter switch away from 'farming' and farms have cows. Cows make milk. You use milk to make a milkshake. Can I have a milkshake?"
"Interesting logic," I said chasing him into the store while attempting to give him a noogie. "I'll have to ponder that one for a moment.

We wandered to the art department to find the paint remover/thinner and thus commenced the milkshake chanting. "Milkshake. Milkshake. Milkshake...Hey, you could get a milkshake. I could get a milk shake. Look frames. Remember? frames are just a few letters away from farms...farms...milk? Milk...Milkshake? Remember?" I ignored the chatter all the way to the checkout counter.

Thirty seconds into standing in line to pay for my purchase, he realized he was holding the trump card all along. He whipped out his wallet and said, "Oh hey. I have my own money. I can get candy!"
"No. No. No. I'll buy you your milkshake. Put it back." Dang. I wanted the element of surprised as I pulled into the ice cream shop. However, he had forced my hand, rather cleverly, I might add, so I was forced to give it up.
"Yay!" he cheered.
"Brat," I said.
He beamed so bright, I'm pretty sure he blinded the clerk.

So call me a softy, a wimp, or a pushover. I can't deny that it's just so hard to resist those big brown eyes. I melt every. single. time. Just like that triple scoop of chocolate chip cookie dough he opted for, instead of his milkshake...

Who spilled the beans?

Because I find it difficult to find things I like to pack for lunch, I always come home half-starved after work. So, the minute I walk in the door, I set my things down and look for the nearest snack at hand. Yesterday, it was the can of cashews still sitting out from breakfast. I figured Hannah probably had had a handful along with whatever else she had scrounged up to eat before school. Since she is the master of unique breakfast cuisine, it didn't strike me as unusual. If anything, I was annoyed that the cashews had been sitting out all day.

So I opened the can of generic cashews, and noticed these small red beans mixed in with the "nuts."
"What on earth are those?" I said to myself as I shook the can around to see if it was just on the top. "They look like dried kidney beans."
"I don't know," Hannah said. I noticed her expression shone bright with curiosity. "Let me see!" I was still holding the can when she pulled the can downward to get a better view.
"Yeah, Me too," said Ruth, coming over to us to have a peek at the mysterious cashews and beans.
We all looked into the can and dug around a bit. "Maybe the manufacturing lines got crossed? But what an odd thing to get mixed in. I would think they'd accidentally mix in peanuts or something. Not dried beans."
"Yeah, that's weird," Hannah said. I looked at her again, suspicious, but her face was still a picture of innocence.
"You didn't have anything to do with this, did you?" I asked
"I don't know how that could have happened," Hannah said. We played the staring game for a few seconds, while I looked for any signs of deception. Seeing none, not even her cute but ornery expression, I tucked my misgivings into the back of my mind, and picked around the beans to eat a few cashews.

Jeremy arrived home a few hours later and I showed him the can of cashews. "Weird," he said. "Maybe we should take a picture, and send it to the manufacturer."
"Nah. It's generic. It wasn't as if this was an expensive can of nuts." I said.
"True." He picked around the beans, digging around to see how thoroughly mixed they were, stopping every so often to pick up a nut and pop it into his mouth.
"I dunno. I ate a few, but wondering if I should have just tossed the can," I said, mildly worried.
"Eh, it's probably alright." Jeremy ate a few more nuts.
"I'm sure it's fine," Hannah added.

Putting the can aside both physically and mentally, we began our hectic evening routine, and didn't contemplate the kidney beans at all until later last night. We're in the last week of the school musical which means more hustle and bustle than usual. Joshua came home from dress rehearsal, walked in the door, and noticed his father holding the cashews. Inspecting the contents once more, Jeremy said, "Yanno, I really think someone tampered with this." He subtly gestured with his head at the jar of dried kidney beans sitting on the piano, completely out of place.

I glanced surreptitiously over at the piano. "You think?" I said, feigning stupidity. "I don't know. Where on earth would they have gotten the beans? I don't think we have any dried beans laying around here..."
Losing his composure, Joshua began howling with laughter.
"You just gave yourself away," Jeremy pointed out matter of fact.
"I know!" Josh said between spurts of laughter. "I'm the worst liar in the world. I cannot lie at all! Bwaaahahahahahahahahahahahahahaaaa!!!!"
"What on earth possessed you to do that?" I asked.
"It wasn't just me!" Josh said, indignantly. "Hannah was there too!"
"Well, your little sister is a little bit scary how easily she can lie to us. She didn't give anything away at all this afternoon when you weren't here."
He laughed even harder.

This morning as we sat around the breakfast table, I made eye contact with Hannah. Picking up the cashews, I shook them a few times, looking at her expectantly. She countered with a confused expression. I shook them again, and she said, "What?"
"The gig is up," I said. "Your brother gave you away last night."
Joshua started laughing again, as Hannah glared at him. If looks could kill, he'd be dead. "I'm sorry!" he told her, "I couldn't help myself!"
"It wasn't really me," she protested. "Joshua is the one who put the beans into the can and shook it up."
"But you were his accomplice," I said. "Guilt by association. Oh, and here's a tip: I would highly recommend not getting into mischief with your brother. He'll always give you away."

Dinner with the Mels

They say family dinners are important time to bond with your kids and spouse. I wouldn't argue the point, because when family dinner is summarily taken away, one begins to realize what one has missed. Last Wednesday I had minor surgery that became a much more major ordeal. Because of various factors, I've not been healing as fast as the doctor expected, or I would have liked, and pain management has been a real problem. In other words, I hurt. I hurt bad. And to combat that pain, I've been on gooood stuff. The kind of stuff that melts my brain, makes peach fuzz of my memory, and mince meat of my hand-eye coordination. Maybe someone else wouldn't blink to be put on a pain pill, but I'm a lightweight. It doesn't take much to turn me into a marshmallow.

I've not left my perch on the couch for much more than transitioning from the bedroom in the morning to the living room, back to the bedroom at night. As a result, the house has been in a state of continuous chaos as Jeremy worked sixty hours or more over the last few weeks and at the same time attempted to take over all the chores I normally do. Meanwhile I laid on the couch in a drug induced state, covered in ice bags, or heating pads, and basically whined my little heart out. The children are resentful that they now have more chores (gasp) to help pick up the slack. And they have realized (smart children that they are) I'm in too bad of shape to really be of any threat. It's not as if I'm suddenly going to get up and chase them around the house with a wooden spoon, right? One easy dodge, the child goes right, I swerve left, and there I am, sprawled indecorously on the floor. I know this, and they know this, so I've been dealing with 'tude, and emotional meltdowns, and well, pretty much everything children do when Mom is out of commission. (And this is a joke to illustrate a point in an outrageous manner. One can never be too sure these days...always better to have a disclaimer).

Today was the first day in a week and a half, I was up,  sort-of about, and off the  heavy-duty pain pills. So I decided to go one step further and have a much needed family dinner to help instill a much needed sense of normalcy. Jeremy had prepared baked chicken the night before, so it was a simple matter of reheating, and cooking up some side dishes. Thank you birds-eye for your steam-in-bag veggies and potatoes. We might all die from cancer some day from microwaving our food in plastic bags, but it sure saved us some much needed time tonight.

We barely sat down to our food on our plates when the conversation started up.

"I'm eating chicken. You know what? I need my chicken suit to eat chicken," Hannah said.

"You'd be a cannibal," Jeremy replied.

"OH! Then, I really really need my suit!" She started to get out of her chair when her spoilsport father told her to sit back down.

In his usual non-sequitur manner, Joshua decided to add to the budding conversation, "Man my lips are chapped, and I have this crack in the corner of my..."

"Then you shouldn't be kissing your girlfriend," I interrupted without skipping a beat.

"WHAT?!? I...Not...I'M NOT...WHAT?!" He stuttered, indignantly.

"AW aw aw aw!! He's guiiiilty. He's been kissing his girlfriend," Ruth and Hannah sung.

"I have NOT," Joshua said, while crossing his arms over his chest and slumping down in his chair.

"Don't worry, Josh," Jeremy said. "When they get bigger you can embarrass them in front of their boyfriends."

"Yeah, I can tell him how Hannah..."

"I'd stop right there, Sir," I said. "Because you were worse than she was..." I left the sentence dangling and looked over at the girls whose expressions could only be described as containing gleeful sibling malice.

"Yeah Josh..." Ruth added, rubbing her hands together. "Go ahead and tell stories. See what we come up with for you. Muhahahahahaha."

Joshua turned his lips in towards his teeth as he always does when thwarted but considering other strategies. "Hmm," He said as he poked a green bean with his fork, "You're right. I don't think that would be so smart."

"You know," Jeremy said changing the subject. "We need to pop a huge batch of popcorn, and take videos of us while we see who can stick the most pieces of popcorn on our tongues." He laughed when he saw my expression.

"YEAH!" Joshua said enthusiastically. "Then we can run it on repeat on the dvd player and Mom will have to watch it over and over and over because SHE'S STUCK ON THE COUCH!!!"

If that isn't motivation to get better...I'm not sure what is.

"Mel, Did You Buy Something On Joshua's Account?"

Jeremy called to me from the kitchen. He had his laptop set up on the table, and was perusing his email while eating dinner.  He worked late, and we had already eaten without him.

"What?" I called from the living room, too tired and sore to get up from my cozy spot on the couch.

"You know how all of Joshua's purchases go to my email? Well, did you accidentally buy something from his account?"

I have an iPod touch, and I use the kindle reader to buy books through Amazon.com, so I was puzzling how on earth The Boy had an Amazon account.  "Amazon? Or iTunes?"  I hollered back.

Ignoring my question he said, "It says here someone bought, 'Voyage to Temptation' and 'Duchess of Mandalore' are these books of yours? They sound like romance novels."

"Um I don't think so," I said. "I can't imagine ever buying a book called 'Voyage to Temptation'." Now my mind was reeling. Was someone using our account to buy smut?  "How much did those cost?"

"$2.00 a piece."

Two dollars, two dollars. I didn't know any books that cost two dollars, even on kindle. Oh there are a few, to be sure, and some that are even free, but I found out quickly that those were not only poorly written but often along the lines of what we were imagining 'Voyage to Temptation' was all about. "And you said they're on Joshua's account? Amazon?"

"No, iTunes."

Light dawning, I remembered The Boy saying something about watching some episodes on his laptop this afternoon. Now I was wondering what on earth he was watching. "Well, Josh was saying he was watching something on his laptop this afternoon through iTunes, but what on earth could he be watching?"  Visions of our son caught up in some soap-opera like drama were floating through my mind.

"OOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhh!" Jeremy said and started to laugh, "I just googled it.  Bwaaaaaaaaaahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaaaa! They're hahahahah gasp They're episodes for that hahahahahahaha cartoon he likes to watch...Star Wars Clone Wars."

"WHAT!?"

Pushing the chair back from the table, he came around the corner and looked at me. "They're episodes from Star Wars Clone Wars. What on earth are they thinking naming their episodes things like 'Voyage to Temptation'? I swear, they sounded like bad romance novels." We laughed again, mildly relieved, mostly because a conundrum had been solved.

He came home later, and Jeremy told The Boy what we thought. He looked incredulous. "What?!?!? They're episodes from Star Wars Clone Wars!" He protested, feeling his manhood in question.

"We know. We know.  We were just a little worried there, kid."

Josh started to laugh. "How could you have thought that?"

"Well, we weren't sure what to think," I added.  "But sure made for an interesting puzzle for the night."

In Which I Indulge My Daughters By Watching Ice Dancing

I enjoy the winter Olympics. I like watching the bob-sled, the luge, the skiing, and especially the snowboarding half-pipe. I even like curling, of all things.  But I have never ever ever been able to get excited or enthusiastic about ice skating, in any of it's forms.  Sure, I can appreciate the sport, the athleticism and coordination that is required to perform complex movements to music on a slippery, hard surface.  After all, I can barely make it around the loop without falling on my butt.  However, watching skaters on t.v. in crazy costumes 'dance' to music isn't exactly my idea of a good time.

 The girls, however, love, love, love it.  For the last few nights, they've used their big, pleading, brown eyes to weaken my defenses. "We can snuggle on the couch, under a big fluffy blanket and watch Ice Dancing. Doesn't that sound wonderful? Ohhh! Please please please please please?" Ruthie and Hannah said, stumbling over each others' words.

 "Oh, ok. But we have to record it, because you won't be able to be up that late, and then we can finish watching it tomorrow."  Foolish foolish words.  For the last three days I've been watching Ice Dancing.  Tomorrow I will still be watching Ice Dancing.  And after that, it will be figure skating. Oh joy. Will wonders never cease.

Ruthie is the self-appointed fashion critic for Ice Dancing costuming. She also feels a need to determine whether a competitor is attractive or not. "Her outfit is pretty, and she's actually attractive."
"BUT HER UNDERWEAR IS SHOWING!" Hannah exclaimed loudly as the guy flipped the girl around his shoulders.
"That's not her underwear, it's her leotard," I said.
"Doesn't matter if you see her leotard or not. It's just a leotard," Ruth stated, as if she knew all there was to know about leotards and ice dancing.

We continued watching pair after pair when my bloodthirsty youngest said, "Aren't they going to show any stumbles?"
"No Hannah, this is live. If they were going to show stumbles, it would mean it just happened right now," Ruth explained.

The next few minutes passed silently with the occasional "Wow, they're good," or "Whoa" passing through their lips, until the Ice Dancing commentator became really quiet.  I suppose Ruthie felt the need to fill the air with words, as if the Dancers' music wasn't enough noise.
"Are they American?"
"Have you ever thought a guy might be singing this?"
"And you know, you have to be flexible to do some of this."
"I was wondering why he was all casual, and she's all fancy."
"Now those two are NOT attractive."
"They make it look SO easy."
"Your hair must look pretty wild after skating."
Hannah continued to murmur her agreement along with each and every one of Ruth's remarks, until I happened to look up again at the television to see the female Ice Dancer pick up her partner. "Whoa!" I said, "SHE PICKED HIM UP!"
"Yup. She must be pretty strong," Hannah said.

The girls became rather silent after that, engrossed in the brother-sister pair representing Great Britain, until one of the French competitors had their turn.
"I don't remember THEM being in the competition."
"Yes, Hannah, they were in the Original Dance, remember?" Ruth said exasperated. A thought occurred to her. "I wonder if they feel ridiculous."
"I think the brother and sister feel ridiculous because they are brother and sister," Hannah said, referring to the previous couple.
"Yeah, I'd feel ridiculous if it were me and Josh."

I found my attention drifting away when the bright colored costumes of the Russian skaters caught my eye.  As flamboyant as their costumes, the choice of music was heavy, boisterous, and loud.  I couldn't wait for their segment to end.

"The Russians think this is good music?" Ruth asked, incredulous. "Their outfits are CRAZY!"
"Especially that one," Hannah pointed to the female's bright red costume.
"The girl's outfit is weird. I suppose it's supposed to be fire," Ruth said.
"But what about the guy's?"
"I dunno. I guess it's smoke."
"OH! I get it!" Hannah said.
"Mama, is it supposed to be smoke?" Ruth asked me.
Hannah saved me from answering, "Yeah, I think he is supposed to be smoke."
I just shrugged and looked clueless. How much longer before bed time?
"The Russians have weird music." Ruthie said
"Is this supposed to be happy music?" Hannah asked. I just looked at her. This was in no way 'happy music' they were skating to.
"Well, at least they're very sparkly." Ruthie tried to find the positive.

Unfortunately, for me, we didn't get to finish watching Ice Dancing before they had to get to bed.  And since they hit the record button so that they could catch the woman's figure skating "Short Program" which airs tonight, I know there's much more ice skating in my near future.  So, my question is, do I get a medal for watching this stuff under duress?

Conversations with Hannah

"So, we're learning about cones and cubes and spheres and stuff at school.  The moon is a sphere. Is the earth a sphere?"
"Yes," I said absently as I put on my jacket and scarf.  We were heading out the door to school. "The earth is a sphere."
"So, basically we're the only ones on a planet. This is the only planet that has life...so that makes us aliens. Isn't that right, Mama? Yes. We're aliens."
I just looked at her. She continued her running monologue as we got into the car and buckled herself in.
"I have gym today," she said, abruptly changing topic.  I drove around the corner and pulled up to the curb of her school building.
"Oh? How about Fred. Do you have Fred tomorrow?"
"Oh I get it.  No. Tomorrow I have Mary, and after that, Olivia.  Next comes Max..." She trailed off as she slid out of the car.

I could still hear her rambling as she walked towards the doors.  Driving away, I smiled. 

Cabin Fever struck the Mel House

The snow has been blowing since last last night, adding to Saturday's accumulation of about a foot.  We cannot even see out our window. Sometime after lunch, the power went out, leaving us feeling mighty stranded.  This is the first home I've ever lived in, where there wasn't at least one gas-powered heat source, be it the stove, the hot water heater, or the furnace, or all three.

"We need a generator," I told Jeremy.
"Yup."
"What are we gonna do?"
"Huddle under a blanket. Pretend we're pioneers?" He said.
"How about we try and find all the lanterns, candles, and batteries in the meantime while there's some daylight?" Usually our outages last a long time when the weather is decent. Like the summer when we went without power for several days because of a transformer on the lines that went bad.  It was possible we could be with out power well into Friday.  I was not feeling too optimistic.
"We could probably make an oil lamp."
"Maybe"
The lights flickered hopefully a few times and then died again.
"If we get desperate, we're gonna try it."
"Ok."

About an hour later, power returned, and we quickly decided to get as much done as possible. We looked up how to make a home-made oil lamp (yay Google) gathered those supplies in the event we lose power again.  And we decided to wash the dishes from lunch that sat in the sink, since we had hot water again.  Rather, we informed the kids they needed to wash the dishes before we made dinner.

It was only a matter of moments before we heard the familiar arguments, feet stompings, and catty noises emanating from Ruth and Hannah.  Hannah, in typical fashion, was refusing to help. Ruth in her frustration decided to solve the problem in her own way.

She duct taped Hannah's mouth.

It might be important to mention at this point, Jeremy rarely raises his voice. I have seen him control the kids with a single look.  I believe it is the implied "I-brought-you-into-this-world-I-can-take-you-out" glint in his eyes that keeps them in check.  I can count on one hand the few times he's lost his temper, and yelled, usually at Joshua, and usually deserved.

The screeching sounds resulting from said duct taping brought the WRATH OF DAD pounding down the stairs like a thundercloud in all its mighty splendor, interrupting the beginnings of a true cat-fight.  It is perhaps the first, and hopefully the last, time the girls have ever incurred the WRATH OF DAD.  Ruth tried to tattle and get Jeremy in trouble with me. Big mistake.  All she succeded in gaining was another lecture, this time from me.

"You duct taped your sister's mouth. You never duct tape your sister's mouth. Anyone's mouth. Be glad it was him and not me. I have half a mind to tie you two together like a three-legged race until you get along with one another."

All I can say is, I'm glad he was home to be judge and jury for a change.  Here's hoping we survive the next 24 hours in close confinement with one another.

"I think after your name, I'll put in parenthesis, 'wife',"

Jeremy said as he loaded up his new phone contact list.

"Why? So you can remember who I am?"

He howled.

Santa's been busy in this house...

And if you weren't really sure what he looks like...it turns out he's a she, and she's only about four feet tall.

Hannah has been busily making gifts. I have no idea when or where she's secretly crafting, but every day she shows up with another little something to stick under the tree.  Yesterday, she held something that looked like trash in her hand, "It's a present," she told me.  With Hannah, the jokester, I wasn't too sure if she was serious or not.
"Ooo-kaaaaaay," I said cautiously, and took the wad of toilet paper from her hands. I felt something solid inside of the TP and looked at Hannah questioningly.
"I don't have wrapping paper," she explained, "So I used toilet paper."
Ahhh. "Ok, put it under the tree."  I, then, announced to the whole family that the wad under the tree was indeed a present and nobody, but NOBODY, should throw it away.  The last thing I need Christmas morning is tears.

This morning Hannah showed up with last nights Chinese food carton in her hands.  "It's a present for Ruth," she announced.  I took a deep breath, and decided I had to look in this one.  A) I wasn't sure if she managed to get all of the food out of the carton and B) the way Ruth has been treating her lately, I wanted to be sure it really was a present, and not pay-backs.  Tentatively, I opened the top of the carton and peered inside.  No rice, no sweet and sour chicken, that was a good start!  At the bottom was a bunch of beads, obviously strung. Whether it is a necklace or a bracelet only time will tell, but I let out the pent up breath in a sigh of relief.   "Put it under the tree," I told her.

I can't fault the child's creativity when it comes to wrapping gifts. It should be interesting to see what she comes up with over the next few days.

If she can't get a date, it's not my fault.

Like any mother, I've been working on manners. My biggest impetus is not the children, necessarily. Oh no. It's Jeremy. He doesn't understand the need for good manners when it comes to body functions operating normally causing loud noises to occur in public venues. Because he thinks it's hilarious, he never corrects the children.
"You can't do that," I told him once.
"What?" he said, laughing.
"That. You cannot laugh when they pass gas or burp. They need to say 'excuse me.' It's your job to remind them to excuse themselves, too, you know. When it's just me correcting them, they never learn." For years, I've been working on him but to no avail.

Last night, we were having dinner, when we heard a delicate "put put put put put put put" noise. Jeremy, bless him, did try. Holding back the laughter that wanted to come out, he said, "Hannah Noel what do you say?"
Hannah looked at her father's strained expression, and knowing he was on the edge said, "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

Jeremy howled, laughing so hard, his eyes started to water. "I tried," he said shaking his head back and forth. "I really really tried."

She's such a strange child..

Sitting at the table, a lunch of fried chicken sitting in front of her, she paused mid-bite, picked up a post-it note from the table and put it dead center on her chest, and continued to eat.  Jeremy and Joshua had been playing 3D tic-tac-toe on the post-it pad, and the crosses on the yellow sheet looked even more out of place amongst the 101 Dalmatians cavorting all over the turtle neck she wore.  Singing to herself while she ate, Hannah was a picture of pure contentment, her imaginary world more than enough to keep her happy.

Meanwhile, Ruthie, opening the cabinet doors, made a disappointing discovery. "OH NOOOO!" She wailed. 'The syrup spilled EVERYWHERE!"  During the clean-up, Jeremy and Ruth discovered some left over Hershey's miniatures that had escaped the bag a few days ago.  He noticed Hannah had finished lunch, and said, "Hey Hannah, wanna Krackle?"
"Yeaaaaaaaaaaah," Hannah said

Jeremy unwrapped the candy bar so Hannah couldn't read the wrapper.  She took a bite and started to MMMmm, when suddenly her expression turned into one of disgust.  Her father started howling with laughter.
"This isn't a Krackle!" she said, indignant. "This is that peanut one...Mr..."
"Bad Bar!" Jeremy finished. No one in this house likes the Mr. Goodbars, except for me.  Hannah started making gagging noises and rushed for the trashcan.
"I guess that makes us even for 1-2-3 Nipples!"
"What's 1-2-3 Nipples?" I was afraid to ask, but curiosity overcame trepidation.
"The other week, Hannah kept trying to grab at my nipples. And I told her to knock it off. So she said," Jeremy switched his voice to a higher pitch in imitation, " 'Can I count your chest hairs then?' So I told her Ok."  (I should probably mention, that my husband is about as hairless as a guy can get.  You really can count his chest hairs with ease). Jeremy continued as my eyes grew wider, "So, she started to count...1-2-3 and then grabbed and yelled "NIPPLES!" " He shuddered, as we all started laughing really hard.

Our laughter quickly became out of proportion to the story.  Josh, Ruth, Hannah, Jeremy and I were wiping tears out of our eyes, and gasping for breath when Hannah piped up at the end, "Well," she paused for dramatic impact. "We all just had a great chuckle there. Didn't we?"

That set off another peal of laughter from all of us, except Hannah who stood there bewildered for once, because normally she's very deliberate with her humor.

"Chuckle?" Joshua said shaking his head as he walked into the other room talking to himself "Who says chuckle?"

"On December first, I get a goat!"

He told me enthusiastically.  For weeks I've been hearing, "On December first..." this and "On December first..." that.  December first was going to be heralded as a day to end all days in our house.  Why? Well, isn't it obvious? Lord of the Rings Online was issuing it's upgrade.

"On December first, they're adding five more levels."
"On December first..."
"On December first..."
"On December first..."

I began to tune him out.  Don't get me wrong. I love my geeks to the fullest extent possible, but after nearly fifteen years of living w/ the eldest geek and surviving another thirteen with the younger, I've learned to tune the two of them out.  Or ban the activity in my presence.  That was an absolute necessity when they obsessed over Naruto together...the japanese version with the high awful female squeaky whiny voices. I didn't have to understand Japanese to know they were annoying. According to the guys, "the dubbed "American" version was just no good".

So now that my interest was piqued, I asked, "A goat?"
"Yeah. A goat. It can go into the Mines of Moria. I can't take a horse there, but I can ride a goat."

Ok then. So glad I asked. At least, he's not bringing home a real goat or something goat related. I never know with that one.

Thank goodness for small mercies.

The icing on the cake

I am really beginning to believe that the start of a day is a good indicator for how the rest of the next twenty-some odd hours will go. At least until the point of passing out between the sheets, there is a lot of time to fill.  Either the day will go your way or against you.  I suppose, when one has a bad morning, one can choose to fight the bad-day karma and turn the day around, or one can just go with the flow, and hope to endure until bedtime.  I tend to go for the survival approach, having found that battle is futile.  Fate will have it's way with me, whether I join in or not. Yesterday began with what Ruth and I call "The French Horn Relay," rounded out with the "Wall-paper Disaster" at the studio, and finished with panache at the Verizon store when I went to finally get Joshua's phone 'fixed.'

It became clear to Jeremy and I that The Boy needed his own phone. He kept having to borrow his friends' phones to call us so we'd know when soccer practice was cut short, or cancelled, or whatever.  Since he's not the most reliable kid when it comes to keeping track of things, we decided to start with a pre-paid plan, see how it goes, before signing-up for a money-sucking contract.  This way, we reasoned, we could use an old phone we owned from a year or two ago, and just activate it w/ a pre-paid plan.  And it sounded good on paper. Until we went through with it, and discovered the mic on the phone was busted. Joshua could hear us. We could not hear him.

Driving to the mall last week, I took his phone back to the Verizon store, and asked if I could buy a new phone.  Long story short, I couldn't, not without signing over my first-born child (gladly!) and maybe cutting off my right leg as well. Apparently, the prices listed on the phones in the store are only for money-sucking contracts, not pre-paid.  Sensing my distress the tech figured out a way to get me a replacement for $50. Basically, it is the same phone, but because the old was was out of warranty, way out of warranty, I had to pay the money for it's identical replacement.  I was told by the twelve-year old tech, "The new phone will arrive on Tuesday at your house, just bring in the whole fed-ex box, and we'll get it all set up for you."

The phone arrived, and I couldn't get to the Verizon store that day. I decided to go on Wednesday. Yesterday. The day that knew no end.  I should have known better. I really should have.  I already had two adventures that day and usually that's a good indicator to just quit trying to accomplish anything, go home, sit on the couch, and push the buttons on the remote.  But no, Josh needed his phone, and I wanted to get it done.  We left the house at three-thirty in the afternoon, and returned home around six.  I spent most of that time at the Verizon store.

Ramon was a very nice tech. In fact, I felt as if we were old friends by the end of the ordeal. He transferred the information, instructed me how and where to drop off the old phone into the fed-ex box, and even boxed and labeled it for me!  But when Ramon went to activate the new phone, he hit a snag.
"What is your pass code for this account?" Ramon asked me.
"I don't have one.  No one set a code up for this account."
Ramon sighed the sigh of the weary tech who knows some salesman did not do their job right. "I can see that," he said looking up the account on the computer. "It shows you've never had a pass code set up. I cannot do that now that the old phone is activated. We'll have to call customer service. You'll need to talk to them."  Ramon dialed customer service, and handed the receiver to me across the desk.  By this point, the kids were dancing on their butts, itching to get off of the bench I commanded they sit on.

"HELLO!!!!!!!" said the customer service rep, "I'm here to help you.  I want to make your experience with Verizon a more enjoyable one." She was obviously reading a script.  I was questioning her literacy.
"Well, I'm standing here at the Verizon store. And the tech can't activate my pre-paid phone with out a pass code. I need you to set up one for me."
"O.K. Lets see what I can do for you. What is your name?"
"Melanie M_______"
"M_________?!?!?!? MY NAME IS ROBYN M___________!!!! Well HOW ABOUT THAT?" She exclaimed loudly in my ear with glee.
"Um yeah, wonderful. My pass code?" Ramon gave me a funny look. I'm pretty sure my facial expression was speaking volumes.
"Ok. Now I need you to spell your name. You understand, I have to ask that."
"Ok. M-e-l-a-n-i-e, M-"
"Oh now I know how to spell THAT name. ha ha ha.  But I still have to have you spell it out to me."
Super. "M-_-_-_-_-_-_"
"And your address. Again, I'm supposed to ask you to spell it."
I gave her all my contact information, enduring the little side-remarks, I'm sure she thought were friendly, but I found just plain creepy.
"Now, do you have the phone with you?"
"No, it's behind the desk. I'm at the Verizon store. I just need a pass code."
"Oh. Ok.  So, is this a new phone?"
"It's a replacement.  The other phone was broken, so they replaced it since they couldn't fix it."
"Do you have it with you?"
"No. It's behind the desk with the tech. Here. I'm giving you to the tech."

Frustrated, I handed the phone to Ramon who had been watching me curiously.  Two seconds into his conversation, I watched the light bulb in his mind go on. Now he knew why I was making those faces.  It wasn't so much that I couldn't get through to Robyn, but her hyper-over-chipper attitude combined with her insistence to get through her script was just, well, words cannot describe. Truly I'm failing to capture the experience.
"If she sets up a pass code," I overheard Ramon saying, "I can activate the phone. We just need a pass code." Obviously, part of the script, I could tell Robyn was asking Ramon for numbers on the phone. He obliged, pulling of the back of the new phone to read off the serial code.  Then he read off another code on the documentation that came with the phone.  "You need the code off the old phone?" He asked Robyn, incredulously.  We exchanged a look, he had boxed and wrapped up the old phone to be shipped to fed-ex.  "Look," Ramon said, pushing the button to put Robyn on speaker phone, "We just need the pass code. I can set up the phone myself if I have the pass code."

"Oh, Ok," Robyn said, "Put Melanie back on."
I leaned over the counter and said, "I'm right here. You're on speaker."
"Oh. OhhhKaaaaaaaay.  Spell your name for me again, Melanie."
I pretended to beat my head on the counter. Ramon shook his head. We were both smiling because this gal was a piece of work. She was amusingly frustrating.  I fed Robyn all my contact information again.
"THAT"S FABULOUS, MELANIE! YOU GET AN A PLUS!"
Ramon lost it. Doubling over and holding his stomach, he laughed and laughed and laughed, trying hard to not let his laughter ring over to the speaker phone. Robyn, oblivious, kept talking to herself, "I asked if she had the phone. I got her name and address..." Meanwhile Ramon whispered, "That's the first time I've ever heard that. Like you were graded or something." He cracked up once more.  I was busy trying to hold in my own peals of laughter.  This call was just getting better and better!
"Oh ok.  So, let's set up a pass code."
Yes! Finally!
"So first, we need a security question, in case you forget your pass code. We will ask you this question any time you forget your pass code. Your choices are: ..."
She read off a series of choices. I gave her the one I thought I'd remember the answer to, then gave her the answer, spelled it, even.
"Oh, ok. Um, Give me four numbers that will be associated with your account."  Robyn read like a second grader.  I gave her four numbers.

As soon as she had her four numbers, Ramon punched in a bunch of stuff and had the phone activated, and ran a test call.  Robyn was a freight train unwilling to be derailed.
"So now, do you have the phone with you?"
"I already activated the phone," Ramon interjected.
"Oh ok. Do you have the phone with you?"
"It's activated. I only needed the pass code."
"Oh ok. You have it activated?"
"Yes. I only needed the pass code."
Ramon looked expectantly at me, ready to hand me the phone and be done with this business. Robyn decided she needed to stay on script.

"Oh ok. Um, Now this is the part of the call where I have to put your plan into the price plan comparison generator.  I must do this, you understand, with every caller to see if you are getting the best plan for your money based on your usage. Um, It looks like you have a balance of $98.71"
"Yes," I said, "because we couldn't use the phone. It was broken." I spoke slowly, just in case.
"So, you have a balance of $98.71. I have to do this, you know, with every caller. And um, it looks like at this point you have only used the phone twice."
"Yes, because we couldn't use the phone. It was broken. That's why we were activating the replacement today." I said, my patience growing thin.
"So you have a balance of $98.71. And you've used the phone twice. Ah ha! Yes, right now you have the best plan for your usage!" Robyn sounded so pleased with herself. I didn't have the heart at all to be snide. I wanted to, many times throughout the call. But something about her, maybe it was how new to the job she sounded, maybe it was her enthusiasm, I just couldn't find my sarcasm anywhere.  "Ok then," I said.
"So, uh, we set up a pass code, I asked you to spell your name, and we have a security question, and I did the price plan comparison with your balance of $98.71. You do know you have a balance of $98.71?"
"Yes. I do know that," I said.
"Oh ok. Well, is there anything else I can do for you?" Ramon was making the "Please say no, please say no" face at me.
"Nope, that's it. I just needed a pass code. And you set that up."
"WELL ISN'T THAT WONDERFUL?! I'M SO GLAD I COULD HELP YOU HERE ON BEHALF OF VERIZON. I HOPE YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY AND ENJOY THAT NEW PHONE!!!"
"Yup, Sure will. Good bye!" I said.

 Ramon quickly hung up the phone before my new BFF Robyn could say anything else. He hung his head and shook it, laughed and looked at me, "I have never heard anything like that before ever in all the time I've been working here."
"I've never quite had a customer service rep like Robyn either, " I said.
Handing me the replacement cell phone, Ramon wished me a good evening, apologized for taking so long. I told him it was ok, these things seem to happen to me all the time. Then I added, "Thanks so much for your help, Ramon. You get an A plus!"

The kids and I walked out of the store, Ramon's chuckles echoing behind us.

It finally happened...

I forgot a child.  I am a bad bad mom.

This morning, Jeremy had to drive to Bethlehem to a customer, so he got up early, woke me up, and reminded me I had carpool duty.  "Ok," I said, "I can do that. No problem."  Ha!

Joshua's friend showed up early. Ruth was running around saying, "I don't know what to pack for lunch? I don't know what to pack for lunch?  What can I pack for lunch?"  Beginning to help her toss odds and ends into her lunch box, the other neighbor knocked on our back door.  Crap! Ruth has Chorus today! I did a mental head slap.  DUH!  "Ruthie, quick! Haley's at the door. You've gotta get to chorus!"
"I don't have a sandwich! I need a sandwich!"
"What do you mean you don't have a sandwich? What have you been doing all this time? Fine here, have another granola bar. There's your sandwich."  Now there's a healthy lunch. I shoved her out the door.
Good Mom score: -1

I turned to the boys, "Ok guys, pack 'er up. It's time to go."  We shuffled out the door, piled into the van, and took off.  A little more than half-way to the jr/sr High I said, "OMG! I FORGOT HANNAH! I left Hannah home ALL ALONE! CRAP CRAP CRAP CRAP!"  She's only seven. And she's a small, immature seven. How could I have forgotten her? How?

 At seven, an event like this would have set Joshua off into an apoplectic fit of major proportions!  Even mild tempered Ruth, would have cried in distress when she discovered Mama left, and she wasn't with me.  I quickly calculated. Our home is close to the school, but not close enough to turn around and get her. At this point, if I turn around, Josh and Nate will be late.  I asked Joshua, "Does your sister know the phone rule?"
"I dunno. I guess so."

Our home phone has programmable ring tones, like a cell phone.  I programmed my number into the home phone with a specific song. If Josh is home alone, he knows not to answer the phone unless he hears my music.  I took a chance that Hannah had figured out the secret code by virtue of being astute. Dialing my cell phone, I called her.

"Hello M-------s!"
"Wow, Hannah. That was great. You really answered the phone the right way. Good job!"
"Yeah. I heard your music and I answered the phone.  I knew where the button was and everything."
"Yes, baby, you did. I'm sorry Hannah. I left you home all alone."
"I know. I'm ok. You took Josh to school. Will you be home soon?"
"Yeah.  I'm just dropping Josh and Nate off right now. I'll be home in five minutes or less."
"Ok."
"Bye Hannah."
"Bye."
There was a long pause while I waited to hear the phone hang up on her side.
"Um, Mama?"
"Yes, Hannah?"
"How do I hang up the phone?"

I wanted to beat my forehead against the dashboard. She was alone. I forgot her. She was alone, and I forgot her. O.k. so with traffic, it's only a ten minute ride round trip, but I forgot I had a third child. How do you forget a child? Apparently, when the brain is not quite awake, it's fairly easy.

Walking through the door of the house, I noticed Hannah hugging to her chest the hello-kitty dry erase board I use to list all important phone numbers. Five minutes to a seven year old is an eternity.  "I was trying to find your number to call you," she said. Oh, can the guilt get laid on any thicker?

Good mom score: -2,000,000

It's going to take awhile for me to get over this one.

And for her next trick...

We recently bought a new-to-us van. It's actually eight years old, but with good mileage. Hardly looks used at all.  The van supposedly has power-sliding-side doors.  I use the word supposedly, because they don't work quite right. It's been a bit of a disappointment, but hey, what can you expect from an eight year old van.  So, when the doors work properly, the kids get very excited.  When they don't they sigh, and just open the door manually.  It's become a big event in our family. Woo hoo! The power doors work! Break out the party hats and confetti!

Yesterday, I had to run to the store to get cooking oil.  Josh and Ruth elected to stay home, but Hannah, my shadow, wanted to come along.  We got to the store, and she pushed the power door button to get out.  Lo and behold! The door slid open.

"Yay!" She said. "It worked!"
"You must have the magic touch," I commented somewhat absently.

Pausing in front of the automatic doors at the grocery store, Hannah struck a pose and said, "Open Sesame!"  then giggled.  "See Mama, I am magic! Well, with doors anyway"

"So you are," I said as we walked down the grocery aisles.

Later, after we pulled into our parking spot in front of our house, she pushed the door button again and this time said, "Alakazam!"  The door slid open, and she pushed the button again to make the door slide closed.   I was already half way up the steps to the porch, when I heard my youngest say to her reflection in the van's window, "I AM THE GREAT HANINI!!!"

Spelling Counts

"It's Father's Day! It's Father's Day!" Hannah sang. She had made some stuff at school for Father's day, and had it in a bright purple oversized envelope. For almost two weeks she tried to give Jeremy the envelope only to hear, "It's not Father's Day yet. I can't open this."

"Finally. Finally! It's Father's Day! I have a present for you Daddy!" Hannah handed the envelope to Jeremy.
He pulled out the first part of his present. An Acrostic Poem, using the word Father.  He paused a minute, carefully made his face blank, and then showed it to me. Hannah was beaming, waiting, anticipating his reaction to her thoughtfulness. I sucked in my breath, and whispered to Jeremy, "I'm sure it's not what it looks like. It's just not spelled right."

"Yeah I know. But what do you think it's really supposed to be?"

 "Ask her."

"Hannah, read this poem to me..."Jeremy prompted.

"Funky..." She began

"OOOH Funky! Oh ok. ah. Good. Funky. But, you know, not that I'm trying to be critical, next time you spell Funky, make sure you include the N, and uh, there's no C before the K."

Slang 101

"So, all I had to eat today was a handful of cereal, a granola bar, and a small package of tastycakes." I finished lamenting my crazy busy day to Jeremy over cheese steaks. We were all sitting at the table taking turns relating our day.  He responded by singing the jingle, "Nobody bakes a cake as tasty as a tasty cake."  After repeating it a few annoying more times, he started messing around with it in his usual manner, "Nobody bocks a cock as tosty as a tosty cock. Oh wait. That's not very good. I shouldn't have sung that!"  At that moment, he started laughing so hard, he turned red, as boys are wont to do when making up naughty songs.  The color crept up from his neck, as the humor turned into embarrassment as three pairs of eyes looked at him with great interest.

"A tosty cock?" Ruth said.
"Don't say that again," Jeremy said when he caught his breath.
Joshua gurgled.
"Why can't we say tosty cock?"
"Uh, because it isn't a good thing to say."
Joshua giggled.
"I can't say tosty cock?" Ruthie asked
"Tosty cock, tosty cock, tosty cock" Hannah said.
Eyes big and bright, Joshua covered his mouth with his hand. He snickered.
"Because." Jeremy said
"Oh, you might as well tell her," I said.
"Tosty cock, tosty cock, tosty cock," Hannah said.
Joshua nearly fell out of his chair, holding his stomach, laughing silently.
"Hannah that's enough," Jeremy said.
"Why? Why can't we say tosty cock?" Ruth persisted.
"I'll tell her later." Jeremy turned back to me, effectively ignoring Ruthie. I knew it was a stalling tactic, and that he had no intention of telling them later.
"Tell them now. Otherwise I'm gonna be somewhere with the kids, and one of our girls are gonna say it at the wrong moment." I said.
Jeremy shook his head no.
Joshua snorted and slid off his chair. "Tosty cock. Oh man!" He said from under the table.
"I want to know why I can't say Tosty cock." Ruthie said.
"Tosty cock, tosty cock, tosty cock," Hannah whispered.
"Fine. I'll tell them."

 I looked at Ruth. She looked eagerly back at me as if I was about to impart the mystery of the world. I looked sternly at Hannah. A silent warning to not let this conversation get past the table.  Hannah's eyes glittered with ornery intent. She knew, just knew this was going to be good. "Well, you see, cock is another word for either a Rooster, or the part of a guy that makes them guys."
Joshua, who managed to get back into his seat, snickered. The girls sat in silence for a few minutes, absorbing this new information.
"Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!!!" Ruthie said.
"Cock-a-doodle dooooooo!!" Hannah said.

Joshua lost his seat again.
I almost had to administer CPR to Jeremy.