Pretty random title, huh? It was a pretty random day. Now, stand by for a random blog post.
RJ slept in a little this morning. Ryleigh slept in longer. (sleeping past 0530 is a big deal in our house) Yay!
Amy has a sixth sense about boxes arriving and called on me to check--she was right. We received several LARGE boxes today with various things. I like playing a little game with the boxes called, "Can I guess what's in this box based on the customs sticker?" Most of the time, I cannot. Toys are usually labeled as "Toy," "Child item," or "Baby item." Household items are labeled such things as "house item," or "home item," or "domestic goods." A picture frame can be labeled as "frame," "11X14", or "picture." Clothes can come described as "clothes," "child item," or "shirt." The descriptions all make perfect sense once the box is opened, but I often don't know what Amy ordered, so I make random guesses. Quite frequently, I just have to ask, "What was in the box?" when I get home.
Chili's can take credit cards now! After a year of cash only following the hacking of their credit card system, we can once again pay with plastic money. We decided to show our support for the credit card industry and for Chili's by eating dinner out tonight. While there, RJ declared that he had to go to the bathroom--a regular occurrence for RJ at Chili's. (WARNING: the next few sentences mention poop--just in case you're eating while reading this...) While I was "assisting" him, he asked where the flushing water came from. I informed him that it came from the pipes back behind him. He then studied it for a second, turned, looked me right in the eyes, squinted a little like he was deep in thought, and said, "So where does the poop and pee go?" I simply told him that it went down under the floor into pipes below the building. He pondered for a moment and then said, "Do poop trucks and pee trucks take it away?" I was now fearing where this conversation was going, so I merely said, "No. The poop and pee go into the pipes and are carried a long ways away." This didn't fully answer our little engineer's question, so he asked, "Where do the pipes go, Dad?" Uh oh. How do I explain sewage treatment to a three year old? I wasn't sure, so I used the good Dad diversionary tactic, "The pipes go to a place called a sewage treatment plant, which I'll tell you about when you are older. Let's clean up and go see Mom." Thankfully, that worked. I was awfully close to going geeky with my child and launching into explanations about waste, decay, bacteria, fertilizer, etc. He's lucky...
As part of dinner, we let him eat some crackers that I was given today at work. Since I can't read a lick of Japanese writing, I would never have eaten these myself, but I was told that RJ would love them. After I learned that I had once eaten some crackers that contained eel (they weren't that good), I'm now skeptical of what I try for snacks. I did ask if they were fish flavored, but was reassured that they were not. RJ did love them and asked for more. Phew!
And lastly, as a sign of the modern era when all is electronic, Amy demonstrated how writing a check is not like riding a bicycle. Asked to write one for a purchase from a friend, Amy pulled out the checkbook, blew off the dust, and proceeded to fill out the appropriate information. First thing she did was sign it--an okay move. Then, in the area where you are supposed to write out the amount of the check in words, Amy wrote "140." Oops. It's okay, Aim. I used to write letters before the computer era. Now, I don't even know if my hand could make it through a 1/2 page letter to someone. Our children probably will never own a checkbook or have to hand write a letter. Times are changing...
But, to prove that I can still write my name:
I had to do that slowly, though, because my signature really looks like this:
The computer age is slowly killing my "3-R" skills... Before long, I'll have to just type blogs every day because I won't be good at communicating any other way...wait a minute, I'm already there!
Have a good day/night.
-Jip
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