Potty Trained ?

Three years old, will be starting a two day preschool next week and almost potty trained! We of course would like this phase of his and our lives to be packed away and never to be brought back out. This potty training is for the birds!  But, I digress!

I never knew that having a grandson would be such an enjoyable ride, sometimes I do not have control of the steering wheel and we just twist and turn down any path, rut, or opening that is before or beside us and we go wide open screaming with our eyes squinting behind spread fingers, butt cheeks clinched tight and hearts in our throats. Other times, it’s a slow meandering walk along a quiet forest trail. The birds tweeting, bugs bugging, toads croaking; music of nature. There you go, it is what it turns out to be!

One beautiful morning we walked out of the house with a purpose and a bag for survival. Change of clothes for a three year old, juice packs, cracker snacks, water bottles and man food, if needed. An hour later I spun the car around the trailhead parking area and pointed it for a fast exit, just in case the bogeymen chased us out of the woods. We geared up and followed adventure into the yet to be discovered. Man child leads the way and carefully follows the clear path, I tag along, allowing him freedom to grow and be independent. The path is stony with roots and sticks scattered about, so we be circumspect as we place our feet. One time he slips on a rolling stone [ no moss on it ] and almost lands with a thump, but catches himself and all is right in his world. We stop for a snack, enjoy it and continue down the trail until rain begins to fall. The consensus of two is to get back to the car before we really get soaked – smart move! Rain falls! Leaves drip! We get wet! Ok, no harm done.

We’re at the car giving high fives, successful hike. Hatch back is open as I change my shoes and put gear away. “If you have to go pee pee, do it now before we start driving.” He says, “Ok.” “Just pee in the weeds by the trees.” “Ok.” I see him pull down his shorts and underwear and begin the process. Oh! my soul, the MacDonald’s golden arches don’t have any thing on that golden stream! “What are you doin’?” I stammer as he turns and directs the arch on the car, I’m under the hatchback window and watch and listen to what amounts to a chorus of rain on a hot tin roof! The Gateway Arch in St. Louis is small compared to this fountain of youth.

What I’m thinking out loud is – How can a peewee wee wee hold so much pee pee?

 

 

 

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Why I’m writing

There are lots of times that I see or hear things which I find humorous, sad,”OH MY”, or maybe different. Sometimes occasions popup which have me itching to make comment, but I have no outlet. Other times I just stick my nose where it really doesn’t belong and get stung or smacked, even bloodied. So here I am creating an outlet for my creativity and own personal enjoyment. We’ve all heard the expression  “Oh, for crying out loud.” Used to express frustration, exasperation, or annoyance.  I have twisted it a little and created, “Oh, for Thinking out loud!” What is thought will be wrought, could be scary!

Not really interested in a huge crowd of eager readers waiting on my every key stroke, but having a little fun, maybe even at my own expense. First scratch my head in  wonderment is-Is this blog even set up correctly? When I hit the publish button where does this creative thought process exit and reappear? I Do Not Know. It is now 11:30pm, I must lay down my head and all of it’s brain activity. Hopefully this will be saved.

Well, here we go, it is now 10:51am and I was able to find this draft and continue working on it. My best guess is that it was saved somewhere and now it’s back. Those of you who have already bookmarked this site need to be patient with me, because I work a real job and have duties to fulfill here at my house. It’s sad, I can not be just a sitting’ here pecking’ and picking’ on this keyboard 24/7. Living the life, is what will feed the fingers!

With that in mind. I finally finished cutting the grass in the backyard. The summer season has challenged this unmanned and rebellious haunt and I do not like to cut grass! Summer time this year-dry! Grass not growing and mowing not required, happy me! Then the showers came and the grass grew up straight and tall and I worked on the sunny days and it rained on the off days and the grass grew up straight and tall. Neighbors cut their grass and the pressure, oh the pressure for me to get that yard looking nice was intense. Started cutting Friday afternoon when the dew melted away. Push mower, unclog exit hole, shake mower up and down, push mower, repeat. One big circle, not getting smaller very fast! Stopped, I will finish tomorrow. Saturday shows up and many things done but grass not cut, and the grass grew up straight and tall! Sunday shines bright and I go to church. don’t cut grass on Sunday, and the grass grew up straight and tall! Monday is here. Lawn mower starts and I push, forward backward, backward forward, grass two feet tall, I’m losing this fight. The comic strip light bulb goes off and a picture of my weed eater pops into the little square, yes that will do the job! I bring out the weed eater and crank it up. I hear it yelling above the engine noise, “I’m not hungry. This grass is to much for me to eat.” I force feed it and the job is done. Looks like a mowed hay field waiting for the hay baler.

So what am I thinking out loud? Should a cut grass long time ago.

I have been busy and finally almost two weeks later I’m just ah gonna post this so I can be started. See where we go from here.