the boys

the boys

Wednesday, September 30, 2015

Humiliatoin Day

There are two things you should know before you read this. 

#1: The weekly school email last week shared information that the school needs cardboard donations for the Global Cardboard Challenge.
#2: Now that he is in 3rd grade, Justin has a planner at school and every day he has to write down what he does throughout the day and reminders that he will need throughout the week. 

So, that's where tonight's story begins.  Actually the story begins earlier this morning when Jeremy got home from 72 hours straight at the firehouse to find a huge unkempt pile of cardboard food boxes in the kitchen.  I asked him to break them down and put them in a plastic sack for the boys to take to school.  Go me!!  Contributed to a school project.  My kids must really idolize me.  Justin will be a hero today for bringing a variety of cardboard boxes of processed foods. 

OR, maybe not.  Tonight we were "doing backpacks."  It's our nightly routine of people pulling various papers out of their backpacks and throwing them out me at astounding rates as I try to thumb through them all and see what needs to be kept, read, applauded, corrected, returned, trashed, or in tonight's case blogged. 

I have to sign Justin's planner every night.  I open it up to find this:

That's right.  Today was Humiliation Day. Or rather Humiliatoin Day.  Who knew?  It begs the obvious question.  So, ummm J, what's up with Humiliation Day?  His response was well, humiliating. 

"Oh yeah, that.  Well Max and I decided today was humiliation day because no one knew why I brought that bag of trash to school.  Mrs. Nelson said 'Uhhhhh, I don't think we need it but I guess I can check on it.'.  They just need box tops."  We asked him what she did with it and he said it was still sitting there at the end of the day. 

My kid was so humiliated that he named a day for it.  Parenting.  Fail.  Jeremy and I have not laughed this hard in a very, very long time. 

Note: I double checked the school email and they do in fact want cardboard for the schools by mid-October.  I was just ahead of the game.  Boom! 

Saturday, September 19, 2015

This is Sew Jeremy

I'm a procrastinator.  There, I said it.  It took me a while to realize it.  Even longer to say it.  Even longer to blog about it.  

I let a whole year go by without sewing any new patches on Justin's Cub Scout uniform.  Now Leo's a Cub Scout therefore doubling my opportunity to be unprepared.  I had to suck it up and get both of their uniforms up to date.  I arranged for my seamstress (yes, I have a seamstress "on staff") to get all of the various little patches in their correct locations. 

Enter: Jeremy.  Ten minutes before the first Pack meeting of the year Jeremy said some very unexpected words.

"Do we have a needle?  I think I can sew." 


Yes we have a needle and a tiny sewing kit that I'm pretty sure I got about 10 years ago in some sort of goodie bag at a social work conference.  I've used it approximately three times.  Ok, twice.  Ok, I don't remember if I've ever used it except the few times that I got the miniature scissors out to open the blueberry muffin dry mix bag for breakfast.  Or cookie dough.  I probably used it to open a bag of chocolate chips.  It sure was hell wasn't for sewing. 

Anywho, in his typical "let's not spend any money" mantra, Jeremy wants to sew all of the patches on himself.  In my typical "can't we just pay someone to do this" way of living, I insist on using the handy-dandy seamstress (shout out to Heather!). 

So I directed him to the sewing kit.  If it can even be called a sewing kit.  It's like three of the tiniest spools of thread you have ever seen, one needle, and the aforementioned scissors designed for use on the set of The Littles. 

Sooooooo, he sews.  Here he is making his first attempt at threading a needle.  Followed by "son of a....."

"I had it until I heard the click (of the camera)"
Followed by "UGH!!!  I almost had it!" and "We are down to our last needle."  As if I need to run out and buy some more to last us the next ten years of non-sewing. 
"Yeah, I can do this.  Do you have a thimble?"
"Oh FUCK! I just got my finger!"
"Ok this is where I get confused" (as he tries to knot it).
Here he is pictured cutting the thread with his teeth as I'm sure his fingers won't fit in the teeny tiny scissors. 
SWEET SUCCESS!  What a stud!
How ya like me now?