I Don't Know, But I've Been Told. . .

Jacob's turned 6 years old!

Over at our Fort (on Presidents' Day, no less), we began Birthday Basic Training with some tank fighting. The boys made this game up right before the party after Jake created a tank from a paper plate and some paper. Aren't you impressed with the way I just roll with it?

Then we did fitness training (thanks Lt. Da-an)--sit ups, push ups, jumping jacks (I highly recommend watching kids try jumping jacks for the first time),

played Sergeant Says, and ran a mini obstacle course.

We had target shooting

and pinned the medal on the soldier. Thanks to my mom who sketched our soldier last minute. My favorite comment was from the kid who looked at the sketch and said, "Hey, I know that guy. I see him in the paper."

We went old school and dropped clothes pins into mason jars. We called it "Bombs Away." My title of "Bomb the Al Quaeda Terror Cells" was vetoed by the powers that be.

Presents were opened. Funny comment kid gave Jake binoculars, "'Cause, you know, you're in the Army." Yeah, he's definitely getting invited next year.

And no Army party would be complete with out a TANK CAKE. Try saying that three times fast. I totally stole the cake idea from Christie, but she knows about it, so we're cool. Many thanks.


Do you think somebody took his cake photography a little too seriously? I crack up every time I look at these shots. Boys will always be boys in love with little green army men. Don't even ask me to elaborate.

Obligatory picture of cute baby. He's Army Super Strong.


So Jake had a spectacular birthday. Hoo-rah. And I'm extremely grateful to the guys at the Army Recruiting Office who loaded me up with tons of Army Strong stuff--flags, pencils, cards. Honestly, I was just looking for some stickers or something, but he said, "Any kid who wants an army party, he's getting a good one. Make sure he gets this backpack. And hat." Yes SIR. Hope I did them proud.


**Although I am lamenting the fact that this was in February. Can you even imagine the possibilities in summer? Hand grenade tosses (with water balloons), real obstacle courses with tires and balance beams, and face paint. Face paint I say.

GOARMY.COM

My Funny Valentines

Feel the love.

Dear Dishonest Ute Fan,

Dear Dishonest Ute Fan,

Yes, I know it was you who stole our "Y" trailer hitch cover during our recent trip to Utah. It was one of my husband's few prized possessions. As any married person knows, possessions are divvied up as "ours" and "hers," with only scant leftovers as "his." So, Mr. Single (does that sound derogatory, because that's what I'm going for), Dishonest, Ute Fan--SHAME ON YOU.

Don't try to pass the blame to the good people of Elko; where, by the way, we paid a small fortune to sleep in the only hotel room not occupied by gatherers of the National Cowboy Poetry Gathering. For one thing, cowboys have no need of trailer hitch covers because theirs are always hitched to something. For another, no self-respecting cowboy would mistake our "Y" hitch cover for a belt buckle, though it might have rivaled his in diameter. And finally, everyone knows a cowboy will not venture out into 6 degree weather if there's no stock needing feeding.

And don't try to blame an over-zealous BYU fan either. First off, all BYU fans are ecclesiastically endorsed. And even if a financially-strapped BYU fan reckoned our "Y" hitch cover was worth breaking the eighth commandment (a philosophical debate best saved for a later date), I'm quite sure he'd be too weak from pedaling up to Wymount after donating his plasma on his way home from his telemarketing job to actually remove the hitch cover.

And don't try and tell me the hitch cover simply fell out. Although it was a journey of more than 500 miles, it would have been one heck of a hail mary to knock the cotter pin loose, slide the hitch cover out, and miraculously pop the cotter pin back in.

So I know it was you, you little punk. And while Jesus will surely forgive you, I'm likely to hold a grudge. Especially since your thievery was completely unnecessary, seeing as you won the Beehive Boot and all this year. One would think the Sugar Bowl would have sweetened you up just a bit. It's not like we were sporting the "Y" on game day. Seriously, committing misdemeanors in the off-season. Isn't that just, ahh, juvenile? (No comment on juvenile behavior during the season.)

You leave me no choice but to curse you. As my father's daughter, I assure you I can curse with the best of them. I curse you that all your best players will elect to draft early, that all your recruits will sign with Alabama, and that all your decent players will be academically ineligible. I curse your team with torn ACLs, ripped rotator cuffs, the pox, and a nasty bout of buttocks boils. And you, Mr. Single, Dishonest, Ute Fan, I curse you that if and when you take a wife, her legs might grow together. After all, I am my father's daughter.

Sincerely,
True Blue and Proud of It

Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday Laurie!!!

Having "forgot" to hijack your blog last year (wasn't aware of the requirement), I decided to take this opportunity to wish you a very happy birthday. Hope that it is a great one.

Love you and can't imagine life without you.

Your five biggest fans
Dan, Gabe, Jake, Nate, and Pete.