OurDad was right the Vice President is Evil-- Thanks YouTube

Tomorrow is my last day as a Cub Scout. No I'm not quitting. I'm crossing over to Boy Scouts and I'll be awarded the highest Cub Scout honor, the Arrow of Light. OurDad will be crossing over too. He's been the Den Leader for five years now, and I think he's more excited about Boy Scouts than I am. He's always said this is his chance to finish being a Scout too.

Anyway I'm not sure OurDad has been the typical Den leader. case in point: our Citizen badge. We had to learn all about our great country including who the important leaders were. We all knew who the President was, George Bush, and our Governor here in Michigan, Jennifer Granholm. OurDad says she's the sexiest Governor in America.

Well, that was about all we knew. So when OurDad asked the Den who the Vice President was I thought I'd be funny and yelled out, "Doctor Evil."

OurDad looked stunned for a second, I thought I might be in trouble, and then he beamed at me with pride. Not just any pride mind you, his eyes sparkled and he got that teary-eyed faraway look reserved for the fathers of Super Bowl Champions. I thought he was going to hug me in front of the other boys--thank God he didn't. I could even hear theme music coming from somewhere. I still can figure out that one. And then he said, "YOU'RE RIGHT!"

Every one was laughing at what each of us had said. In that moment we were transformed into some great Father-Son tag-team comedy act. It was great. We had bonded like few fathers and sons throughout history. Then I noticed he wasn't laughing, and then he said, "No really you're right. The Vice President really is Doctor Evil." Then every one stopped laughing, and I was no longer the envy of all the other boys. No longer was I a kid lucky enough to have a cool dad, a dad with true comic timing. A dad so funny that no one would even dare look at a milk carton in his presence. It was all an accident. He was just... well, him, OurDad again.

Eventually we got him to admit that a man named Dick Cheney was the Vice President, and he kept insisting that he was like Doctor Evil, but no body bought it.

Anyway it turns out OurDad and I were right, well almost right. Look what I found on YouTube!

It was so funny, and for that one moment we were both so proud of each other.
I just hope he's as proud tomorrow as I become a Boy Scout.

Bloody Knuckles

No OurDad didn't get into a fight. GreatMom would have done more than bloody his knuckles anyway. He fixed a flat tire. Nothing extraordinary there., but then there is the matter of how the tire got flat in the first place.

You've seen those big rocks placed at the corners of parking lot islands just in case the curb isn't deterrent enough... Thats right he cut one a bit short--way short. That's one more dent in the Ranger's collection, and then there was of the flat tire-- torn out side wall. No plugging that one. $85 bucks for a new tire and to hear OurDad tell it, a pound of flesh to put on the spare.

Ok maybe scraped up knuckles aren't exactly a pound of flesh, but OurDad made it sound like switching out the flat for the spare was a Herculean feat since all the bolts were rusted-- hence the bloody knuckles. I'll bet he looked pretty funny swearing away from beneath the Ranger in the fitness center parking lot. 175K miles on salty MI roads breeds a lot of rust, but that Ranger is still going strong, for now...

Our Dad doesn't seem to mind all the dents, but after yesterdays driving we're beginning to wonder if these aren't self inflicted wounds. Is OurDad trying to tell us something?

It's Genetic!!! That's OurDad's Dad

Grandpa got the Girl Scout cookies I sent him last week, and the Valentines I sent too.

GreatMom found this great Valentine's craft. You get a cookie sheet with heart shape molds and you fill the molds with broken crayons and bake them at 250 degrees for 10 to 15 minutes and then you let them cool. And you have these great heart shaped crayons. They work and everything.

Popping them out of the molds is a little tricky, but OurDad figured out that a couple minutes in the freezer solves that problem. He is kind of smart about that science stuff-- something about things contracting when their cold... bla, bla , bla...

They are so cool. GreatMom and I made batches five batches of them in one day! Then we started running out of the valentine's colors, but it was too much fun just to stop so we kept making more with greens, and browns, and tans and blue crayons. They came out kind of ugly compared to the pretty pink and red and white swirly ones.

Anyway I had all these really cool gifts to give out with my Valentine's day cards this year at school. We had lots left over, and OurDad said GrandMa would get a kick out of them so we sent her all the ones we had left. It just happened to be GS cookie time so we sent them with our cookies.

Anyway OurDad's Dad got the Cookies and the chocolate hearts today, or what he thought were chocolate hearts. Below is a excerpt form today's email from OurDad's Dad.

the cookies arrived today and they are great, however there was a sandwich bag with some heart shaped candy and I thought how nice, the kids made candy hearts and sent them to us. So I ate one and had to spit it out and get an tooth pick to clean the wax from my teeth. I showed them to your mother and she looked at them carefully and said they are crayons. I knew the taste and smell were familiar.

Now life makes so much more sense.

That's OurDad's Dad...

We're taking OurDad's Side on this One--Place mats

What is the point of a place mat? Great Mom says they're to catch crumbs, they help keep the table clean. OurDad thinks this is great-- as long as said place mats aren't adorned with idyllic settings for fluffy pink kittens-- you don't have to wipe the table.

However, GreatMom disagrees. Of course you have to wipe the table, and the place mats. This is where the GirlChild and I agree with OurDad. If the place mats are for protecting the table from sloppy eaters, like OurDad, fine then there a are just place mats and not the whole table to clean. This makes sense. But GreatMom insists that the table still needs to be wiped after dinner in addition to cleaning the place mats.

So what are the place mats for?!

We need a answer to this one before were expected to do our share of housework here.

He knows they should be studying

I'm not sure why OurDad did this today, but he told his students he'd give any of them that found this blog an A. They aren't going to find it, and he's not going to give any of them who do find it an A, but clearly some of them took it on as a challenge I'll bet they are combing wordpress and blogger sites right now when they should be studying for the pop quiz he's writing up for tomorrow!

Why does OurDad have talk to everybody at the library?

A trip to the library with OurDad can be a real problem. If we're staying a while it's not so bad; I just find some books and DVD's and the BoyChild and I play some computer games while OurDad is off doing god-knows-what amongst the stacks of books, and he doesn't bother us. But if it's a quick run... Well there is no quick run to the library with OurDad. He has to talk to all the librarians, bla bla bla. I'm not knocking our WoundTight Township Library, it's one of the top 100 public libraries in the country, but please WTT librarians could you stop talking to OurDad, you're only encouraging him. We have a life outside of books!

It's only the library you say? Judge for yourself: The other day OurDad I was walking into the WTT library with OurDad and he said, "I love the library; it's just an orgy of books."

Whatever that is I know it's something disgusting...

Much Ado About Something

The other night Great Mom and OurDad rented the DVD of Shakespear's Much Ado About Nothing the Kenneth Branagh film version to show us where they got the name Beatrice.

It's a great comedy about denial and love or denial of love. I could tell form the opening scenes that Great Mom and OurDad got it right: Beatrice, the character, was a sassy barker that had to let everyone know her opinion. That's just like our Bea-- some one would start an argument, and she'd try to finish it. And boy was that woman in denial. It's sooo funny kind of like how a certain dog lived in denial of actually being a dog.

Where have we been?

Dear Readers,

Some of you have expressed concern for our absence here in the blogisphere. It's true we didn't felt like blogging when our Beatrice left us, but we have been feeling better for the past week or two.

So why so quiet. It's OurDad's fault of course!

OurDad has some new LitLand project, and it's for the internet. He never gets off the computer now! Really it's worse than usual. GreatMom had to threaten him so she could get on the computer to figure out how much money we owe this extortionist nicknamed Uncle Sam.

We aren't allowed to tell anyone about the project yet, but OurDad says it will be on the internet by April 1.

We're not sure, but we suspect it's some kind of joke.