Countdown to the family party: 7 days

It's that time of year again, and as always, my darling old parents have decided to throw their annual Christmas bash. It's supposed to be on Sunday (a week from today) and I'm rather looking forward to it. We're going to have music and food and fun. As always, there will be a Yankee gift swap, and, as always, I hope it doesn't get to far out of hand. One year I swear we had twice as many people as their were presents. Those who picked first ended up with absolutely nothing. I think we'll be a bit more careful this year.
My dear old dad may be getting a bit senile. You wouldn't believe how many people he's invited. Then of course, there are the guests invited by me and Bob. Even the kids are getting in on the action. Sally Ann, my oldest daughter, blackmailed her brother Bob Jr. to invite a guy she likes. Another one of my kids, Joey, invited his entire 3rd period English class to bring their families. It could get a little crazy.
Hopefully my parent's house will be big enough to hold everyone. It might get close, especially when you consider that their one story ranch was barely big enough to hold myself, them, and my brothers when I was growing up. Forget crazy, this party has the potential to get downright insane.

Driving to Bryce National Park

As I mentioned before, we drove up to Bryce National Park earlier today. About a couple hours into the drive, the kids started noticing white stuff on the mountains off in the distance. By the time we stopped for gas, they had realized it was snow, and it was covering the ground around us.
My babies reacted the way any kids would. They immediately called for a snowball fight. Sally Ann and Bob III were the only ones smart enough to stay out of it. The other seven and a half all started going crazy, making slush balls and throwing them with varying levels of accuracy. By the time we'd filled up our tank with overpriced gas, there was no unused snow left in the gas station parking lot. Michelangelo and Ezekiel were sopping wet, and Elizabeth, Dud, and Joey were not much better off. I had to lay towels down on the seats of the Builder Mobile to prevent them from getting the seats wet. Bob Jr, Bob IV, and Dyda Jr. were all victorious, without a single flake of snow on them.
After we left the gas station, the view got better and better. We went through this place called Dixie National Forest, and with the snow it was absolutely beautiful. For the first time in a long time, the kids got to see trees taller than houses, and with a dusting of snow, it was amazing. The picture above is of Dixie National Forest with snow, so you can see how nice it was.
We were all disappointed when we found that there was no snow at Ruby's Inn, which is where we are staying.

Joey Makes a Fool of Himself

My kids keep giving me grief because I only ever mention Dud and Bob Jr. in this blog. There are nine and a half of you, guys, so give me a break.
Anyway, I do have a story to tell about a different one of my kids. When we were leaving for our vacation this morning, Joey, my fifth child, made a bit of a fool of himself. He'd been zoning out in front of some cartoon channel when I called him to get in the car. Joey grabbed all of his stuff and raced outside. When he got to the car, my oldest two, Sally Ann and Bob Jr., pointed out that he still had the television's remote control in his hand. It was a very impressive feat, because Joey never even noticed he had it in his hand. Sally Ann ran the remote control back to the family room, but it was still rather hilarious.
Poor Joey will never hear the end of that one.

Poor Doggys

My family's going on vacation for Thanksgiving weekend. Bob and I invited my parents along and are considering taking our dogs. If we don't take the dogs, we'll have to leave them at their vets' office, and they hate that. Buddy, our shepherd-rottweiler mix, and Sparky, our cocker spaniel, go absolutely crazy there.
When we returned from our last vacation, we picked the dogs up from the vet. Buddy was so excited, he peed allover Bob Jr.'s leg. Bob Jr. didn't mind too too much, but it still didn't exactly make his day.
So we're in the middle of deciding whether or not we want to bring the dogs along with us. If we do, then they'll be thrilled. However, Buddy is a bit of an attack dog. He doesn't like strangers much, and if he bites anyone else, we'll have to put him to sleep. Therefore, there is some risk in bringing him along.
Mom is completely against the idea, not that she has much say in the matter. After all, she'll be our guest. However, if we bring them and her and she doesn't agree, it'll be one grumpy car ride in the Builder family van. Unlike my dear old mother, the rest of the family, from little Dud to my aged father, all support the idea of bringing the dogs along. What's the worst that could happen?

Homework is evil

Or at least that is what my kids say. It's been so long since I was their age, I really can't remember. Poor Bob Jr. had six HOURS of homework in just one class yesterday, and even little Dud had a solid hour's work to do.
I think I'm glad I'm not in school anymore.
Bob has imposed a new rule in our house: No doing anything until homework is completely done. The kids absolutely despise the idea. Evidently, when there's that much homework, there would be no time to have any "fun".
But what's the point of fun? I've never gotten it. You enjoy yourself for a short amount of time, and then it's over. I'd prefer something more permanent myself. But that's just me. Maybe I'm weird. I dunno.

Old Dad and Co.

In honor of the Red Sox game tonight, Bob and I invited my father, a die-hard Red Sox fan, over to watch the game. Dad brought along a friend.
So now we've got two old dudes starring at our television, counting down the milliseconds until the first pitch is thrown. It's horribly boring, so I'm stuck blogging for something to do.
On the plus side, Dad's a good cook, for all he is quite a way over the hill. Tonight for dinner he is making Chicken Cordon Bleu, one of his favorite meals to make. I can't wait for dinner, but I can wait for dishes. Where's Bob Jr. when you need him? Dumb kid had to run off to sleep over a friend's house tonight. To bad none of the other 8.5 kids are any good at dish washing.
5:02. That means there are 28 minutes left until the game. Yay!

Bob Jr.'s New Job

Now that school's started up, Bob Jr.'s decided to get a job. Since he's still in high school, most jobs are out of his reach, but one option remained. The elusive and marvelous minimum wage job.
Now Bob works eight hour days each weekend and an hour or two after school each night, flipping burgers at our local burger joint. Bob Sr. and I are so proud of him. He makes a mean bacon burger with extra cheese and no tomato. A little to much ketchup maybe, but every one has their faults.
DUD was so jealous of the fact that Bob Jr.'s actually making money that he insisted on a raise in his allowance. Instead of ten cents a month, he is now proud to be earning eleven cents, for all the house work he does. You've gotta love four year olds and their concept of money. I don't think he realizes that the amount of money he owns is only enough to buy about two candy bars a year, and I'm not going to be the one to break it to him. That would be his father's job.

My hat collection

They hang on the wall in me and Bob's bedroom. There are seven of them, when they are all hanging. On the far left is a simple white hat, the kind I wore on Easter when I was a kid. Next to it is a simple, boring, baseball cap from the '06 National Mock Trial Championship, which Bob Jr. participated in. The third cap is a joker's hat, with red-white-and-blue coloring. It has eight light up red balls on the ends of each segment that sticks out of it, and when I turn the hat on, the lights flash. Then there's the cowboy hat that I don't remember getting, and the purple paper bag hat that I got at a party. This hat was made, and then I got to decorate it. I attached multicolored pipe cleaners to the edges of its top, and bells to those. Time has caused the bells to pull the pipe cleaners down torwards the ground and droop. A black and white cap that always reminds me of my grandfather on my mom's side is next to this one, and the final cap is shaped so that it looks like a pink manta ray, with large eyes that creep me out, and my head stuck below it, so it looks like I'm being eaten by the thing when I wear it. Those are my hats.