Wednesday, March 4, 2009

"cards are war, in disguise of a sport" --Charles Lamb

Yesterday I went way out on a limb and the comments you left really validated me--it still amazes me how encouraging a space the Blogosphere is. I almost started to cry. But I didn't because that's not how I roll. Not that there's anything wrong with that. (Huge Shout Out to the cryers, weepers and sobbers--my BFF Sarah among them--seriously, the girl cries a few times a day! I don't always get it, but that's how she rolls.)

Sunday I asked Mr. B if he wanted to invite a buddy over for a play date. After cataloging his friends through a method involving birthday party venues and basketball, he chose a new friend named Petey. "Is Petey in your class?" Nope. "Do you know his last name?" Nope. "Ask him Monday and I'll track down his mommy." Mr. B returned from school with this: I talked to Petey and found out his last name. It's 'Reedingberd." "What's that, buddy?" Weedingbird. You know. Like a bird and it's reading? (or weeding--I'm not always sure because Mr. B has a mighty speech impediment.)

I tore open the school directory and went to the obvious options: Weyenberg, Wittenberg, Vandenberg, Reeder--there were no names under R or W that even came close. I asked Mr. B which teacher Petey had--Mrs. SL. After school I tracked her down and asked about a kid named Petey--last name ??? Sonnenberg. Huh? Sorry, Mr. B, but you're not even close.

In other Team Testosterone News, Mr. T came to us today needing $16. To cover a bet he made on the playground. Involving a card game. Tonight his dad has poker. I'm sure there's no link. But we did have a great conversation about betting etiquette--and I admire my kid's attitude. He hadn't lost yet, but he wanted to be able to pay up in case he did. He didn't want to be a whelcher and he didn't want anyone to say they couldn't trust him. We have recommended he place $1 bets from now on.

I just finished The Reluctant Fundamentalist at 6:30 this morning--the last 10 pages had my heart racing with suspense. Either because I was ignorant of it being previously mentioned or out of sheer coincidence, the story takes place in Lahore which is all over the news this week. Rather uncanny. It's a read I definitely recommend.

Speaking of violent terrorist attacks, my sons have a new game. They spit their Nerf bullets at each other. Apparently mouths are easier and faster to reload than the stockpile of Nerf guns sitting in the toy room/Armory. Consequently, foam pellets are all over my dang house and I have to hear the constant "thwoop" of their mouths blowing out their ammunition. It almost makes a girl miss the loud clashing of light sabres.

15 comments:

  1. We have a craft room, you have an armory. Go figure.

    How did T come up with $16 as a proper betting amount?

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  2. WOW! $16.00 he's a high-roll(er).

    My son, who is a junior at UofO, has poker nights and I think they start at a nickle ante.

    ;) Thank God!

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  3. Yep, Green Girl is right, I cry ALL the time. I teared up when I read the blog-- I cried on the way to work today listening to a song. I sometimes cry when I drop my 6th grade son off when I notice how "big" he is. I cry at American Idol when I hear there stories. And don't get me started at sports stories..I love when the underdog wins

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  4. See??? I told you!!! I think I'm just buying her tissues from now on for her birthday and Christmas.

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  5. I don't know how I got to be a post behind - and what bad timing on my part! You so eloquently put into words so many things I have thought / often think when it comes to faith. Thank you!

    And if you ever need a cryer and your friend is unavailable, just let me know. That's me - ready to weep at the drop of a hat.

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  6. We've got nerf bullets EVERYWHERE! Thanks to Grandma and Granddaddy, who bought some kind of enormous nerf machine gun for my sweet baby.

    I can really relate to you in so many ways. Last summer when Sammy was packing for church sleepover camp, I had to take the poker set out of his suitcase. "Mom, what's the big deal? I'm only bringing five dollars!"
    Ooh boy.

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  7. Jen on the Edge made me laugh--I had a craft room AND and armory!

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  8. I love today's post... it made me laugh... which is good medicine anytime.

    I read yesterday's post twice and nodded several times and sighed a few more times. So glad you wrote it... I have a few people to pass it on to.

    My brother-in-law came over for dinner last night (delivery pizza and chocolate chip cookies made from store-bought dough. Yup... no energy at this house). Anyway... he's an evolutionist and I'm a Creationist. Really had fun disagreeing. When he left I was thinking that I pray because it gives me peace and I believe John 3:16 because I feel hope. Being a Christian helps me make better choices in life. I stumble, trip,& fall a lot... but I always hop back on the good path... for a while anyway. God made me just as I am.

    Hugs,
    Joni

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  9. Ooh, shooting and gambling. They'll be ready to open up a saloon any time now ;)

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  10. How does it feel to be the lone bastion of civilization in a testosterone-filled home?

    My Captain Kindergarten got the nerf "dartboard" and "dart guns" in a set for his 6th birthday.

    Needless to say, it was only a matter of time until my boys morphed into Starsky and Hutch.

    But, at least the ammo isn't covered in spit.

    ;) - Julia

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  11. Gotta love boys. They will turn anything into artillary or the artillary launching device.

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  12. Just read today and yesterdays blog--got to keep up! C.S. Lewis is profound and has changed the way I think about Christianity. I like your style, I roll similarly. Have read the Bible too and am always amazed t how really little most people know of it. I love the old testament stories, much like the epics in so many cultures.

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  13. Missing the clash of light sabers -- LOL!

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  14. somehow the nerd guns haven't made it into our house. although we are playing a new game with little blass - bakugam or something. those little suckers are everywhere.

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  15. Hmmm...
    Sonnenberg... sonnet...reading...Reedingbird.

    A well-instilled appreciation for the literary arts, making good on ones wagers, and the keeping of a respectable armory: All the markings of fine gentlemen, indeed. ;)

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Spill it, reader.