I Maybe Don't Have the Best Tactics.

Remember a post WAY BACK about being in Brainerd?  There was a small segment about "poop tacos"???  Well, I feel I may need to apologize.  See . . . at the TIME it made sense.  The boys were being very dramatic about NOT WANTING to eat tacos and I replied with the fact that they were not any plain old tacos . . . they were POOP tacos.  And wala!  It worked.  I thought I was maybe a genius.  Unfortunately, O has a crazy good memory.  Go figure.  I thought all males had the memory of gold fish.  Alas, come to find out, its just my husband.  Ehem.

Side tracked there.  Sorry.  So now O cannot stop using the phrase poop tacos in just about EVERY SENTENCE he utters or sings or yodels.  (If you know O, you completely understand the yodeling issue).  Sister1 has now made the rule that he can only use that term in the bathroom and that is it.   But before that rule had been implemented, he had been spreading the good cheer for quite some time . . and at times, would tell people that Aunt Sabrina taught him about poop tacos.  Good Lord.

Fast forward.

O came home with me for a little bit today after lunch with Sister1 and Grandma.   He watered my lawn, picked some tomatoes (might as well put him to work), begged to paint my furniture (I said no) and tried to get me to hook up the Wii (no luck - - I don't do electronics).  *Obviously, its a blast at my house.* While we were in the living room trying to figure out the Wii, he went into the bathroom, left the door open and yelled and sang about poop tacos for a good 5 minutes.  I tried not to laugh . . but honestly . . . "poop tacos" get me every time.

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Shoppe update: I traveled to Britton, South Dakota because some family friends were cleaning out a farmstead.  It was fabulous.  Old doors, windows, trunks, galore!  It was a delight.  I have finally changed out the window display and have tried to get rid of my "summery" items; painted several furniture items and spray painted quite a few too! I've been so productive lately, I am worried that I might become an "overachiever".

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But then again, my house is a mess and I have yet to make more than 5 meals since moving.  Ugh.  If cooking wasn't so inconvenient, I might enjoy it.  I tried making omelets the other day.  I failed.  I ended up terming it:  "Egg Mash".  Boyd didn't seem to mind.  I will suffer through his "goldfish memory" if he keeps his nonjudgmental taste buds.