. . . Oh, and a Slice of Cheese.

We went to Costco yesterday while Robyn was attending a birthday party at Pirate Island. So, blog post on hold for just a second: have you been to Pirate Island? It's like Disneyland crammed into a strip mall! Pretty dang cool if you ask me. And blog post off hold.

While Robyn was in the party, the rest of the family went to Costco to get some grocery items and dinner. (Yes, we're one of THOSE families.) Our grocery run was pretty speedy, and soon enough we found ourselves in line at the checkout. Maleen told me that we could pay for our grub right there in the checkout line. This is a foreign concept to me. It just doesn't feel right.

Now keep in mind that since Lethal Weapon II came out, I can count on one hand how many times I've been through the drive through. Leo's right, when you go through the drive through, they win. (You can watch the clip here, but be warned: it has explicit language in it. What? I This was back in my apostate days!)

And if I won't go through a drive through, you know I can't order food at the check register! But Maleen's into this, so she places the order: "Ya, we'll have a polish dog, a hot dog, pepperoni pizza . . ." The guy at the register butts in: "A slice right?" Maleen: "Yes. By the slice. And a supreme pizza. . . Oh, and a slice of cheese."

Now this was news to me: I didn't know you could order a slice of cheese at Costco. "They do that?" I thought to myself. "Weird." It also seemed an odd request—I couldn't think of which dish this particular side would go with. And man! $1.99 for a slice of cheese! What a rip-off! But I wasn't about to question the pregnant lady! If she wants a slice of cheese with her supreme pizza, go for it. I'm not going to stand in the way. You husbands know what I'm talking about.

So Maleen herds the children over to the table and starts setting them up for the onslaught of chow. She hands me the receipt and directs me to the pick up window. Pick up window? What about the line of people going through, who haven't reached the pick up window? She pointed again to the pick up window, and again I did not argue.

When it was my turn, the guy behind the window says, "Okay what 'ev ya got?" I tried to respond like I knew what I was doing that this was old hat for me: "Ya, I've got a Polish (never use the whole word when an abbreviation will do—especially when you're trying to fit in), a hot dog, a pepperoni, a supreme, oh, and a slice of cheese." I enunciated rather particularly on this one, as if I didn't want him to get it wrong. "Slice of cheese, you do that right?" I repeated almost at a whisper, painstakingly pronouncing each syllable and opening my eyes as wide as they would go. After such elocution and emphasis I scrunched up my nose and added a knowing nod with a little cheek grin.

The guy looked at me like I was recently graduated from a special school then went off to get my order.

When he returned he rattled off the order as he gave me each plate: "One Polish dog. One hot dog. A slice of pepperoni. A slice of supreme. And last, but not least, a slice of cheese. He too had learned the knowing nod and cheek grin. He was very careful to enunciate properly as he handed me the slice of cheese pizza.

I accepted the plate and threw my head back at an awkward angle, focusing my eyes in space, and moving my pupils as if I were reading some invisible sign on a 45-degree angle over his head. "This was not a slice of cheese," I mumbled to myself. "This is a slice of cheese pizza." Quickly my mind started jumping hurdles and replaced the picture of golden cheddar sliced at about 1/8" inch thick, with a greasy triangle of bread laden with molten cheese. My brain kicked me (as if IT knew and I was just this sod thinking of dairy!)

When the slice of cheese pizza finally pushed aside the extremely vivid slice of exorbitantly price cheddar, I looked back at the person behind the window. He was actually holding his belt, waiting for me to get out of the way, but too courteous to say anything.

I won't tell you how I felt after that. I think you all know. I'll just shut up now. Anyone for a slice of cheese?

Between Edward and Jacob...

...I choose Tyler.

My mother-in-law invited me up to Idaho today to watch New Moon on its opening day. I wanted to see the movie and would eventually, so it sounded like a lot of fun to watch it with my family up in Idaho. Tyler got the day off from work so that I could travel up there. Ivory was going to come with me and hang out with Grandma for a few days until Thanksgiving, but she was a tad bit sick, so it didn't seem like the best idea to take her up there. Since Ivory couldn't go, Tyler started thinking of all these reasons I shouldn't go. He wanted me to see family, he wanted me to see the movie, but in the long run, he just didn't want to be without me. Since I am the one with all the kids most of the time, I understand. Everything is so much easier as a team.

I still wanted to see family, I still wanted to see the movie, but in the end, I thought Tyler was more important and so I stayed. And I am glad I stayed. Because I was going to be gone, everything I got to do with my family seemed sweeter, more special. This morning, Tyler and I took the younger two girls shopping for candles and then out for snacks (i.e. cinnamon rolls and raspberry muffin tops at Kneader's). It was an ordinary activity turned extraordinary because I realized that every moment I have with them is a gift (even if I don't always appreciate them).

So Edward and Jacob, you will just have to wait. There is one man more important than both of you.

Wordless Thursday

Providence

Do you ever get annoyed when you run an errand, get home, only to find out that you forgot something or got the wrong thing? I did that this morning. I went to get velcro. I looked very hard at two packages. They were priced the same, seemed identical, except that one had 10 ft of velcro and the other had 5 ft. In the end, I got the one with ten feet (it seemed more of a bargain). Naturally, the minute I got home I realized the difference. The ten foot brand only gave you half the velcro; just the hook side. Sheesh. I was a little put out that I would have to go all the way back.

But I put on my best face and headed back (fortunately Tyler was home, so I was able to go without kids, because you can imagine how thrilled I would be to pack kids back up). Right before I got there, a song came on the radio that I have been listening for (to find out the artist). While waiting for the song to finish, I grabbed my purse and noticed that my wallet was missing. I left it at the store when I came the first time since my hands were full with Daisy. I thought that if I hadn't bought the wrong velcro, I might not have noticed for a very long time and perhaps even forgotten where I had been (this is not unlike me). I was so relieved that I was already at the store. My wallet was behind the counter, I exchanged my velcro, AND I found out the artist that I was wondering about. Here is the song if you are really curious about what strikes my fancy.

So perhaps things can sometimes work out for the best. Providence was smiling on me today.

Are Your Ears Painted On?

I was watching Barbie and the Three Musketeers for the umpteenth time today (thanks Grandma for buying that for the girls) and I was once again amazed at the idea that once people put on a half mask, no one can recognize them. Seriously? And let's be honest, Barbie's mask isn't even a half mask, it is only two loops that surround her eyes. And yet, people are still amazed when she takes it off. Oh, it's you???

Half-masks are just not that mysterious to me. Sure if I didn't know the person, but if I were at all familiar with someone, I don't think I would be fooled. I mean, it's not like a person's voice changes when they put on a mask. Maybe I am better at voice recognition than some. I enjoy trying to guess who the voice-overs are in animated films. But even if you were poor at recognizing voices, there must be other clues. Ladies, if you know your man at all, you should be able to see through his disguise. I mean, come on Buttercup...Wesley was gone for a few years, but could he have changed that much? And what about Zorro and Batman (although Batman's voice does seem to deepen when he puts on his mask so you have to give him props for that)? Anyway, I'm just saying that if Tyler put on a half-mask, he wouldn't be able to pull the wool over my eyes.

MMIX

So I am a crazy woman about traditions (but you knew that). We have a tradition that the FHE before Thanksgiving we make our thankful turkey. The first Thanksgiving that we did this, our turkey looked very lonely, but we laminated him and I knew that eventually he would be joined by others. And now we are on our fourth turkey (I love it!!). We put them up each year and I know that when my kids are grown, they will bring their families back and look at our wall filled with silly turkeys.

Everyone gets a feather (although we added one for the dog because Robyn didn't want a lop-sided turkey). Each year I have the kids help me choose colors for the turkey and the feathers. Robyn helped this year and therefore it was 'her' turkey. You should have seen her face when Tyler decided to write the year in Roman numerals instead of the regular numbers. She about pitched a fit. Finally Tyler showed her how to read the 'secret' writing and now she thinks she has classified information. It should keep her happy for a while.



Yes, I know that this isn't the Monday before Thanksgiving, but Ivory will be out of town next week and I didn't want her to miss it. Hence, the early bird gets the Roman Numerals.

Variety is the Spice of Life

I really think it is good to mix things up a bit; try something new or old (spouses excluded naturally—I like the one I have). I look forward to each month and doing something that goes with the season or holiday. I like digging in my closet and finding old shoes or clothes that I haven't worn in a while. It is great to skim my small collection of movies and see an old favorite that I haven't watched in a while. I love it when a song I haven't heard in forever comes on the radio, bringing back a wave of memories as I sing it at the top of my lungs.

Some things are meant to be daily occurrences (I would never say no to a kiss or hug from any of my family) but many of the things I like are better in small doses; enjoyed at intervals. Tonight we were getting ready to have our Sunday ice cream ritual (yes, I shamelessly bribe my children to keep them reverent in church). Tyler, with some left over soda from his Book-a-Mormon-athon, decided that we should have root beer floats instead. What a genius. It has been a blue moon since I have had a root beer float and it was scrumptious. It is great to fall in love with something all over again (in this case, spouses included). Thanks Tyler.

p.s. Ty, you are enough variety to keep my life spicy for eternity.