Sunday, April 15, 2012

Only in my family

I feel pretty confident that I am in a very elite group of people who
have been called by their parents to come over and help erect a tipi.

Super Son would have taken my keys and driven himself
if it had meant getting there faster.

We carried poles, positioned them,

adjusted and repositioned them 278 times and once we had them in position
moved them one more time and tested them.

My father swears that a 10 year old boy dangling from the rope 
was actually the recommended way of testing the hold.

Sure Dad, and I have leprosy.

The instruction manual recommended that we:

                            1 - read the instructions
                            2 - do not listen to anyone who says they have erected a tipi before
                            3 - if you are tempted to ignore #2 go back and read #1 
                                and repeat until you regain your senses

Apparently we are unable to follow instructions and are not
in full control of our sensibilities  because we didn't read them.

And I say "we" loosely because I spent much of this time tromping around in the bushes taking pictures and laughing at the commentary about not reading the instructions and listening to the resident "tipi erection expert"

After a while someone *cough* me *cough* found the instruction 
manual and proceeded to read the infamous instructions 
(that actually did tell you to dangle from the rope and not to listen to 
anyone who has erected a tipi before *sorry Dad, I take it back*).  

We managed to figure out what we were missing and finish the project. 

And if you are ever visiting and wonder just where my children
have gotten off to you are sure to find them in the tipi.
They are after all the only kids who have grandparents who call 
on a random Sunday to see if we are free to set one up.

And if you ever want to setup one of your own, feel free to call, we will 
joyfully cheer for you while all refusing to be the resident tipi 
expert and insisting that you  read your own dang manual.

The End.

Saturday, April 14, 2012

Flipping Out

If I needed one more reason to love the dojang where Super Son is 
studying martial arts they gave it to me with the way they celebrated his birthday.

He insisted on attending class immediately after school.

But first I surprised him with a very fancy parent pick up.

Miss Thing was very proud of herself for being in on the surprise.

She was also quite clear that she would rather ride the bus when it came 
to her 10th birthday if I had any plans of picking her up the same way.

So when we arrived at the dojang they began class with the usual 
meditations and promptly moved on to throwing Super Son around the room


and again.

and again. 

Ten times in all.  

Once for each of his ten years.

Which apparently made him a little nutty.

Oh wait, that's just him.