Why You Should NEVER Buy a Brown Toilet Seat

Okay ladies....I'm sure all of you with boys (or maybe even husbands) at home know how disgusting it is to sit on a toilet seat that has been...um.....shall we say christened.

I've always thought that there is nothing quite so icky (yes, I said icky) as sitting down and feeling the wetness. Ugh. It's just nasty. That's why we teach our boys to lift the seat. That's why we encourage them to aim true.

With five members of the male persuasion in my home, I've learned to check the seat for those tell-tale little droplets. It's second nature. I see them. I clean them. My behind sits on a dry seat.

Well, today, I went into the bathroom to powder my nose. (Work with me people. This is a public blog. Let's just say that's what I was doing.)

I looked down at my pretty wooden toilet seat. The white ones always look so plain. My behind prefers to sit on oak, thank you very much. I checked for droplets, saw none, and happily sat down.

There was an unmistakable squishy feeling as my nether regions came into contact with the oak seat.

Acting on instinct, I jumped up very quickly, turned, and looked at the seat. I didn't see anything. I thought maybe it was my imagination. So I did the only reasonable thing I could do. I sat down again.

Yes. Again.

And it squished. Again.

This time, I stood up, leaned down to get a better look, and that is when the smell hit me.

Upon closer inspection, I noticed that the brown oak seat was not quite uniform in appearance. There seemed to be a slight discoloration at the back of the seat. Frightened of what I would discover, I got some toilet paper and wiped it across the spot.

It came off. Well, some of it came off. Quite a bit was still firmly attached to the seat. Except now, it was smeared across the back.

Fighting the urge to gag, I tossed the toilet paper into the toilet.

Then it dawned on me. I sat in that. Twice.

I have never in my life reached for a washcloth, lathered it up, and scrubbed any part of my body so quickly or so thoroughly in my life.

The moral of the story?

NEVER buy a brown toilet seat.

Seven Year Old Boys

When seven year old boys don't get boiled eggs when they want them, they get very angry.

When seven year old boys are angry, they take it out on the eggs.

Eggs make a huge mess when seven year old boys smash them onto the metal shelving of a refrigerator.

When eggs are smashed onto the metal shelving of a refrigerator by a seven year old boy, they fall through and make a mess on the bottom of the refrigerator.

If you don't discover these smashed eggs until after the seven year old boy has left for school, they start to get really nasty.

Seven year old boys get suspended from school when they get into fights before school has started.

When seven year old boys get suspended, they get to clean semi-dried egg goop from the bottom of the refrigerator.

Seven year old boys that enjoy smashing eggs do NOT like to clean up semi-dried egg goop.

Seven year old boys who throw temper tantrums because they have to clean semi-dried egg goop are sent to their rooms for naps.

Seven year old boys do not like being sent to their rooms for naps.

Some very unique seven year old boys show their displeasure at being told to take naps by pooping in the cat box.

When seven year old boys poop in a cat box, it stinks badly.

If the seven year old boy poop stinks badly enough, the ten year old family cat will bury the poop.

Although seven year old boys may get some weird satisfaction from pooping in the cat box, they do NOT like scooping the poop.

Mothers of seven year old boys who smash eggs, get suspended for fighting, and poop in cat boxes get gray hair, need naps, and frequently question their own sanity.

Pee Wee Lemonade

Tonight, the boys decided to camp out in Zach's room. I went to tuck them in and they told me that I had to see the new game they created. I stood back and watched as Ben got up and left the room. He started counting.

I thought they were playing some sort of hide and seek. Zach and CJ both dived onto the bed and pulled covers over their heads. When Ben counted to 20, he ran into the room and jumped on the bed and started pulling at the covers yelling, "Who can I find???? Pee Wee Lemonade!!!"

He found Zach. Zach laughed and said that he was "it" now.

I asked, "So are you Pee Wee Lemonade?" He said, "No. That's Ben. I'm Poo Poo Fruit Punch!" CJ said, "And I'm Watermelon Juice!"

Since it was Zach's turn, he left the room and counted to 20 while Ben and CJ hid under the covers on the bed.

I said, "Isn't he going to know you're there?"

They said, "Yeah....he's supposed to!" I was NOT understanding this game.

Zach came running into the room, jumped on the bed, yelling, "Who can I find? Pee Wee Lemonade!!"

Confused, I said, "I thought you were Poo Poo Fruit Punch?" He said, "Yeah...I am."

He found CJ and yelled, "I found you!!! You're it!!"

So, then CJ ran into the hallway, counted to 20, and ran into the room to find Ben or Zach, yelling, "Who can I find? Pee Wee Lemonade!!!"

He found Zach.

Suddenly, the game was over. Ben was yelling, "I won!! I won!!"

I stood there confused. I finally said, "I don't understand. How did Ben win?"

CJ said, "Oh Mom....we know how to play. We made it up!"

Okay....I give up. At least they can keep themselves occupied.....

Chicken Soup for the Soul

I was sound asleep having a dream about (what else?) having my blood tested at the hospital. Suddenly, I felt a rather insistent poke. Another poke. Another poke. I opened my eyes. Without my glasses on, I could barely make out CJ standing over me. He said, "Mom, I made you something."

Breakfast in bed? Wow! What a sweet kid! I am a lucky mommy....

I sat up...still no glasses....and reached out to get the bowl of what I expected to be cereal from him.

The bowl was warm.

A bit confused, I peered into the bowl. Again, since I didn't have my glasses on yet, this really was a pointless gesture. I saw....something....no idea what it was... Then it hit me! Oatmeal! He must've made oatmeal!!! Why didn't I think of it before??

So, again without glasses, (and if I'm honest...a little worried) I picked up the spoon, scooped up a big glob, and with a smile on my face, took a big bite of something that was definitely NOT oatmeal.

"Mmmmmmmmm" was all I could manage as I tried not to spit it out. My smile was glued on my face as I chewed something. This is not what I was expecting.

CJ, very pleased with himself, announced, "It's chicken soup! It's my own recipe!" Ah, that explains it...

I was going to ask him what his recipe consisted of when he darted out of the room. I would have stopped him, but I was still chewing. Yes, chewing.

I took a closer look into the bowl. What appeared to be condensed Campbell's Homestyle Chicken Noodle Soup made somewhat of a lump in the bowl. I've heard of chunky soup, but this is ridiculous.....

I stirred it up for a bit better consistency, and had just decided that I *might* need to add a little water, when the door popped open again.

CJ was standing there with another bowl. Oh no.

"This is for Kim," said CJ. Then I remembered that Kim was in bed with us. She wasn't feeling well last night, so slept with us. Hmm....not sure if this was going to make her feel better or not....

"Kim, I made you soup," CJ said. As Kim rolled over, a bit dazed, I couldn't help but wonder how Mike was sleeping through all of this.

Kim sat up and said, "Hmmm?"

I said, "Kim, CJ made you some soup." As I looked at her, I tried to send her telepathic messages to prepare herself for what was coming her way. It didn't work.

CJ handed her the bowl and said proudly, "It's vegetable soup!" Kim raised her eyebrows a bit, but graciously accepted the bowl. My brief thought was "ut oh." Condensed vegetable soup...with no water added.... That can't be good....

Kim, the little trooper, looked up at me for direction. I said, "I'm eating mine...yummmmm...." What else could I say? CJ was standing right there with an expectant look on his face.

Kim picked up the spoon and bravely took a bite. Her response was the same as mine had been. "Mmmmmmm......" CJ smiled a huge smile, turned, and took off out the door.

Kim looked at me and said, "I don't think this is vegetable soup."

I looked into her bowl....still with no glasses....and said, "Huh. You might be right."

I decided at this point that it was time to wake Dad. After all, he was next in line...

Several pokes later, Mike finally roused. He took off his CPAP machine and I said, "Prepare yourself. CJ's making us breakfast in bed."

His naive response was, "Oh, that's nice."

"You think so?"

He looked at me questioningly, just as CJ came into the room.

"Here Daddy! Soup for you!" CJ beamed with pride. I had a flashback to Seinfeld and the episode with the Soup Nazi.

Mike looked at him with that look of confusion that was becoming very popular this morning. Again, I tried to send him a telepathic warning. I could tell by the concerned look on his face that the warning had been received.

CJ stood there, waiting for his Dad to take the first bite. Mike gingerly picked up the spoon, put the "soup" into his mouth and said, the now famous response, "Mmmmmmm." Frozen smile.

CJ beamed. "It's Chicken and Rice!" He came over to my side of the bed and said, "Is it good?"

I said, "Oh yes! It's the best soup I've ever had for breakfast!" Kim nodded in agreement. Mike just sat there with his mouth tightly shut and staring at his bowl.

CJ said, "It was my own recipe. A little soup....a little water...stir it up." I must admit that I was surprised that there was *any* water involved in his "recipe." Then he said, "I got burned. A little bit." I asked him if he was okay.

He said, "Yeah. I cooked yours for ten seconds, Kim's for ten seconds, and then Dad's for ten seconds. Yours and Kim's was warm, but Dad's was hot. It sort of exploded on my foot."

He turned to leave. As he got to the door, he turned and said, "Oh, by the way, we're running low on soup."

CJ left. The three of us sat in bed. Mike looked at me and said, "What is this?"

Kim said, "Mine's supposed to be vegetable soup, but it's not."

I told them both that I believe he opened cans of condensed soup and didn't add the water. Or at least not enough. Kim told us that she thought hers was chicken and rice soup, too. Mike said it was the first soup he'd ever had to chew.

We ate our soup in silence. Well, except for the laughing. And the snickering. We tried to keep it quiet so we didn't hurt CJ's feelings.

Mike said, "My soup isn't hot enough." I looked at him and told him that his soup must've been warmer than ours was....CJ burned himself on Mike's soup. Mike said that he didn't know how. I commented that my soup was slightly warm. Kim very matter-of-factly said, "Mine is cold."

Oh, my. We're the three bears. CJ is Goldilocks. Talk about a twisted nursery rhyme.

Just then, the door opened again. CJ was standing there with a cup.

"I made you something to drink," he said. At first, I was relieved. Something to wash it down with. Then it hit me that he said that he "made" us something. Oh, no.

"What is it, CJ?" I cautiously reached for the cup.

"It's a secret recipe!" Oh no.

I looked into the cup, thinking I really need to put on my glasses. It looked like orange juice. Except maybe a little creamy looking. That can't be good. Milk and orange juice? Surely not. Even CJ isn't *that* special....

I decided to take one for the team. I slowly sipped the drink. The tartness was a bit shocking. Thankfully, I had only sipped.

By now, you all know the proper response. Say it with me: "Mmmmmmm."

I swallowed. I looked at CJ, who was bursting with pride, and asked, "How did you make your secret recipe?"

"It's a secret! Now I'm gonna go get some for Dad." Mike went pale.

When he left, I looked at Kim. I wanted to save her. She's my little girl. Her Dad and I would have to sacrifice ourselves for her.

"Kim, honey....go get ready for church. Hurry." We didn't need to tell her twice. She shot out the door.

I decided that it was time to be sneaky. I grabbed my cup that had contained Crystal Light in it and poured CJ's concoction into that cup. I had barely finished when CJ opened the door carrying....I didn't know what he was carrying.

He said, "I'm gonna make Dad's here so you can see the recipe." Well, at least we'll know what went into it.

He poured half a glass of orange pineapple juice. Safe so far. Then he pulled out the canister of Crystal Light. Ut-oh. He opened it and took out one of the little tubs of powder. We generally mix that little tub up with two quarts of water. CJ, however, poured the entire thing into the eight ounce cup that had about 4 ounces of orange pineapple juice in it. Well, that explained the tartness.

He then said, "Now I'll add some water." He went to the bathroom, added about two ounces of water, and brought it back to Dad.

Dad looked at me as if to say "I love you. Remember me." He took a sip. "Mmmmmmm......" CJ beamed again.

Mike, feeling generous, asked CJ if he wanted some. I thought, oh no....now CJ will realize that he messed up.

CJ looked at Mike with one eyebrow raised. "Are you kidding? You two are my taste testers. I didn't know if that stuff would kill me or not!"

With that, he left the room.

Who needs coffee???? We have CJ.......

Faith Warrior CJ

Tonight, CJ was in rare form. Although he might possibly have two broken fingers, this has done little to squelch his excitement at having a splint and a sling.

This evening, CJ walked up to Mike and said, "Dad, you’re a faithful warrior. Just like me. I’m a faithful warrior, too."

Mike looked up from his computer and said, "I am, huh?"

CJ said, "Yep. A faithful warrior needs help sometimes. Help and rest. Just like me."

Mike just sort of looked at him like he was trying to figure this comment out. I was also trying to figure this comment out.

CJ then said, "Yep. I’m a faithful warrior. No, a man! A faithful man! A man needs help and rest. Just like me. Oh, well, I think I’ll go to bed. I’m a faithful man that needs help and rest."

WHAT?!?

Son or Pet? You Decide.

*Our cat pulls out his hair. So does our son.
*Our dog loves doggie treats. So does our son.
*Birds like to steal shiny objects. So does our son.
*Our cat uses a litter box. So does our son.
*Our dog runs off if we’re not looking. So does our son.
*Our bird likes to chatter incessantly. So does our son.
*Our cat likes to eat bugs. So does our son.
*Dogs like to chew on things. So does our son.
*Male dogs sometimes pee on people. So does our son.
*Birds put everything in their mouth. So does our son.
*Cats scratch when they are angry. So does our son.
*Cats jump over gates and climb on furniture. So does our son.
*Viscious dogs scare people. So does our son.
*Nice dogs like to lick you. So does our son.
*Cats like to rub their face on you. So does our son.
*Our bird tends to scatter his food everywhere. So does our son.
*Dogs sometimes pee on the carpet. So does our son.
*Some dogs bite. So does our son.
*Dogs growl. So does our son.
*Cats meow. So does our son.
*Our dog likes to hump our cat. So does our.....I think I’ll stop now.