Sodom and Gomorrah Towing Service

Well, we raided the "Wyoming Vacation" penny jar to get our poor van out of hock. (At this rate, poor Scott will never get to enjoy a family vacation in Yellowstone.)

Sean (Star's fiancee) and I went to pick up my little white van from the tow service the kind police officer referred to as: "honest" and "has a great reputation". I will kindly refer to them hereafter as "Sodom and Gomorrah Towing).

As the "Guy" is writing out my paperwork, he's telling us about a time he was leaving a bar and his tags had expired, "Now, THAT'S not a time you want to be pulled over- Ha! Ha!"...okay, there goes the honest part...then I hand him the money in nothing but $5's and $1's and apologized telling him that we had to raid the penny jar. He tells us, "That's okay, I had a girl come in and pay a $245 fine in mostly dollar bills- you know what she does for a living!" My blank stare must have clued him in to the fact that I, indeed, had no idea what he was talking about. "You know, she was a waitress..." okay, that made sense to me..."One of those SPECIAL waitresses! Ha! Ha! Ha! Yeah, I recognized her!" I'll bet you did. A good portion of those dollar bills were probably even yours. So, that shot the whole "reputation" down the drain as well. Not that he didn't have a reputation, mind you, just not a "great" one.

So, that's the icing on the cake. I have no doubt that some of those dollar bills end up back in the hands of my very 'sorry' policeman. Who now looks even sorrier than ever!

A Sorry Policeman

Could the day have been worse? Yes. But it was bad enough. Got pulled over because our tags are 9 days overdue. The nice policeman told me he was 'sorry', but they would have to impound the car. (Of course this is happening right after one doctor's appointment, and right on the way to a second one). As soon as he mentioned 'impound' I started to cry. "Oh, don't cry ma'am. I'm really sorry about this. It's not that bad." Of course, as soon as Kate heard I was crying, she started her waterworks and Enoch's all tearing up- I'm sure we're quite the motley crew. When the policeman went back to his car Enoch reached over (he was in the front seat next to me) and embraced me in a wonderful sincere hug! He even patted my back, and held on! Not one of those 'quicky hugs' I get at bedtime! (Almost made the entire day worth it-just for that show of affection from my 14 yr old tough guy) The policeman came back, and since this was only a few blocks from the BMV I asked if the kids and I could go over to the BMV to renew the tags. Gratefully, he said 'yes'. So we trudge over to the BMV (if he was REALLY sorry he should have given us a ride) only to find it...CLOSED on MONDAY. We call Daddy to tell him to meet us at the van. While walking back I realize- SCOTT'S TAGS HAVE EXPIRED AS WELL!! I'm pretty certain the policeman would be equally 'sorry' to have to impound his car as well. Luckily, I cut him off in the parking lot and warned him. So, instead of just tags, now we get to pay $165 for a ticket, impound fee and towing fee (which we'll find out as soon as we can afford to pay the 1-tags for both vehicles, 2-impound/tow fee, & 3-$165 ticket). Of course it comes during a month where we have to pay for 2 camps, gas for temple trip and youth conference, and various other expenses. Oh, and to boot, this prevents me from selling my used books at tomorrow's book sale (hoping to use the proceeds for the previous). Calgon?

Overheard Remarks

If you were in the Dupont Rd Goodwill store today, this is what you might have overheard in one of the dressing rooms:

(K)ate: I don't know. It doesn't look very immodest.

(A)melia: Yeah, it covers too much. Let's try that one on, it looks a lot trampier.

(M)om/Me: Your right, I think it's tight enough, but it covers waaaay too much. Try this on, it looks pretty sleazy.

K: That's pretty good- she's popping out of the top of it.

M: Yeah, but I don't think it's short enough, look- it almost comes to her knees. Try this other one on. It's all lacey and doesn't have a back on it. Let me run out and see if I can find some really inappropriate swimsuits that won't fit you.

A: This might work, it's really tight and looks REALLY unattractive. Grandpa would die if he even saw this hanging on the hanger.

K: Yeah, but it's not very flashy. Look, there aren't even any sequins or glitter or lace or anything really good.

M: Okay, I'm back. I found these two bikini tops and these little...I think they're skirts...or maybe hankies, I'm not sure...but you can wear them as a really immodest skirt...it should look good.

M: How about this one?

K and M: Naaaah.

M: That's immodest, but but you could almost wear a shirt under it and no one would even notice how sleazy it was. Here Kate, go hang these back up.

K: I'm not TOUCHING those things. What if someone sees me holding them? There are BOYS out there, you know. What if the Stake President were out there?

A: Just tell him that these clothes weren't immodest enough for camp, and we're trying to 'raise the bar' along with the hemline! Or maybe "raise the bar, lower the neckline" something like that.

M: Here, you picked this one out. Velvety stretchy material- very eye-catching *CHECK*....VEEERRRRRY short skirt *CHECK......Extreeemly low cut *CHECK*....waaay to tight to breathe in *CHECK.....Hey!! It's even backless!! A BONUS CHECK!! I think we've found ourselves a winner girls!!!

K: I really don't have to hang these back up again, do I?


Here's the 'behind the story' story:

For our skit for girls camp this year, Amelia is going to be portraying someone with 'less than ideal' worldly standards. She will be wearing her bright salmon colored camp shirt and jeans on UNDER this very immodest dress. The girls had a blast shopping for "immodest" clothes as a way to make fun of the worldly styles. Kate, as you could tell, couldn't even handle the 'appearance' of evil.

I'll try to post the camp skit at the end of this month! (and a picture of the "notoriously sleazy outfit" (which will end up in our burn barrel at the end of camp.

Some Crappy Dough

Last year (right before Christmas time) we decided to make some of our favorite "Christmas Cookies"- Pfefferneuse or Peppernuts. We put a bunch of dough, roll them out snake-style and chop off little pieces. They turn out like little mini marshmellow sized cookies that you pop in your mouth by the handful. Well, we had apparently been sniffing the pepper in the dough too long, because the dough started to change appearance..to us at least. That's when Enoch sculpted the 'pile' you see in the above picture. Daddy wasn't home yet, and knowing what a "fan" (NOT) he is of dogs anyway, we decided to play a practical joke on him. Enoch took his giant sculpted mound of dog poop and placed it carefully on Daddy's pillow. Oh, yes, his pillow. We put some cleaner with a bunch of wadded up paper towels all around so it looked liked the kids had tried cleaning it. Then we (impatiently) waitied- Kate poised behind the dirty laundry basket ready to videotape. Unfortunately, all of us awaiting Daddy's arrival and his huge welcome home (along with Ava trying to tug him into the bedroom) kind of gave us away. But, it was a fun evening nonetheless!

Boredom at our house is NEVER an option!

Army of Helaman

Asked all the youth to pose with their muscles for a bulletin board we're doing this month. My stick fragment of a son gets up there and strikes a pose. He must be a leftover from the Army of Helaman with those muscles!! That must be to fight the girls off with.

All Sticky Clean

As we were driving home after a long afternoon, Ava was enjoying her happy meal, eating ferociously because she can't play with the Barbie toy until after she has finished. She finally finishes, but apparently her hands were too dirty to play with the nice new toy so she asks if I have a napkin. I pass her back a napkin and she says "Nooo. A WET one. To clean my hands off with." "Sorry, sweetie," I replied, "all we have are these napkins." "Oh. Well, that's okay." she kindly responds. Seconds later I hear a dripping sound and turn to witness my daughter pulling her entire napkin out of her chocolate milk container and WASHING HER HANDS WITH IT!!!" "WHAT"?!!" I yell, "You can't DO THAT!!" "Why not?" she innocently asks, continuing to thoroughly (and I mean THOROUGHLY) wash her hands- front, back, even between her fingers. "It's wet." she says. "It's CHOCOLATE MILK!!" I continue. "So?" she answers. "You need CLEAN W-A-T-E-R to wash your hands off with!!" What kind of idiots am I raising here? "Oh. Okay." she quickly replies, and licks her hands off. Oh yeah. Just another day.