"It seems size 38 is categorized as 'women's,' but they're technically unisex."-me
"I don't care! I really want 'em. I already wear women's shoes, it doesn't matter."-him
"It was one time!"-me
The shoes he mentioned were also unisex, they just happened to be in the women's department. They were nondescript, brown leather Merrels.
"Titus is very ignorant." He said it ignore-ant. "I asked him specifically if you said he could play the computer. He didn't answer me and turned it off." I asked him if he realized he made up a word and definition for it. "Yeah, I meant to." Wordly Wise 3000...worth the money. *I have so few pictures of this one lately. A prime example of why:
"Mom. Mom. Mama. Mom." Anytime I say Jude's name with any amount of you're-busted-pal intonation, he immediately cuts me off with "Mom. Mom..." It's adorable.
On my mom's last visit up, while passing a well known road, I was telling her about this area of our peninsula that has a fairly shady history. The story goes that a pirate ship crashed off the coast and the people aboard never left the area where they washed ashore.
"They all lived together in this community and inbred over decades and did some really horrible things to one another that have carried on as legend over the years..."
From the back seat of the car, long after the story was over, Titus asks, "How small were those people?"
Confused, "Uhhh, they were just regular sized people. They weren't small or big, just...why?"
"How did they fit in bread?"
I may have already posted this some time ago, but the phase is still going and I don't want to forget. Titus is quick to hand out a, "Haha, Sucka!" after he's made a brother the brunt of a well timed joke. I love it so much.
After a morning of whisper-screaming, "Die, <expletive>, die!" at a wasp, I called in the professionals. My morning was supposed to be a leisurely hour spent reading my Bible or showering or some such often interrupted deed. Instead, a hummingbird sized wasp flew into my kitchen while I was preparing my morning beverage. He decided to slurp water from the edge of a glass in the sink. If I swatted him or threw a shoe at him, I would wake up the kids. I opted for the only bug killer in the garage, ant spray. Luckily, it had a long hose. I let the stream of poison fly into the sink for a solid three minutes before that sucka went down.
The pest control guy was very, very thorough. He went into our attic looking for wasp nests, looked under the eaves, opened the fire place up...he couldn't find a nest anywhere, but he mentioned killing a large nest of spiders. "Oh, what kind of spiders?" I asked, knowing I should't have before I could pull the words back into my mouth. "Black widows. About 25 of 'em." I almost vomited right on the floor. Black widows aren't welcome in my house. I don't care if we live "in the woods."
I would've paid him $10,000 if he'd asked/I had it.
He then brought up the need to put down a snake barrier. As if the wasp incident didn't already make me want to burn down the house! We opted not to sign up for it yet. Wouldn't you know it, Sean saw a freakin' snake today.
I have no picture of our pest control guy. I do have a picture of the dead wasp, but it's not glory filled like the story. He looks piddly and dead. When he was alive, he was picture worthy. I'm telling you, he was a humming bird stunt double. We did pass our pest control man in traffic today. Turns out, he texts and drives in a Yaris. He obviously has a death wish. But, as we passed him, I yelled out, "It's Shawn! Everybody wave!" We're tight like that. Or we will be once we start seeing him quarterly regularly.