Monday, September 19, 2011


My children are an endless source of entertainment.

Hero Husband ended up working a double shift this weekend leaving Super Son no options but to come along to the dreaded girly birthday party that Miss Thing had been invited to.

The principle that

"You are 9 and they are 6 and therefore you may not beat the
pinata into submission until they all get at least two turns"

is lost on him.

He is also not enthused about face paint (unless of the war paint manly cammo variety), glittery butterfly crafts and things that don't involve beyblades.

I paused to take a picture of my sweet girl

(don't you just love her new sassy haircut)

and when I turned around Super Son had gone AWOL.

Miss Thing was happily gluing her glittery do-dad to the sparkly do-hickey and
so my parental reconnaissance mission was underway.

He was not at the bowl of queso,

he was not snacking on the spoils of the pinata beating,

he wasn't watching the football game

Where I found him was outside just around the corner

going all martial with his arts, 

battling unseen adversaries,

and apparently not wanting to be watched

or photographed.

The End

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