Halen's birthday was six weeks ago, but I want to post about it now. And this is my ugly blog, so I can do whatever I want on it. Plus, posting about an event that happened six weeks ago is kind of like going back in time. Everyone would like to be able to go back in time -- except maybe Robin Givens, because then she's have to be married to Mike Tyson again (seriously, talk about your all-time crappy judgment calls, how about the one where Robin Givens was like, "Yeah, you know, I think I'll marry Mike Tyson. He's, like, sensitive and probably communicates well. Okay, sure, he'd been arrested 38 times by age 13, but, really, I think he's changed. No, of course I don't think he'd ever eat anyone's earlobe! What a dumb question!") -- and now you actually can!
So here's the birthday boy, looking pensive, pondering whether he's going to get a blob of hummus and a piece of pita bread like he did last year. Fortunately for him, this year he lives in America, and his grandma lives close by, so he got lots of fun toys that he beat his sisters up over. Awesome!
I got him a bottle of aftershave. Seriously, he smells like saliva and bad breath most of the time, so I thought some Old Spice would do him some good. Hey, I don't think you should judge me. Did my gift cause any sibling punch-ups?
Here's the crew waiting for the cake to be served. Well, two-thirds of the crew is waiting; Grace is doing what the third child must to get nourished: plundering the booty before the older kids are sure what just happened. You've got to hand it to her. It's a good strategy. Sure, you can get in trouble for sticking your hand in the cake and shoving a fistful in your mouth before everyone has sung "Happy Birthday," but no one can really remove the cake from your mouth and put it back. So, yeah, you get in trouble, but you get first go at the cake, and that's pretty cool. Good work, Grace.
Shannon did a great job making a Thomas the Tank Engine cake for Halen. Here's a picture of Shannon dropping a candle... or is she using the Force to re-erect it?
Now, some might say that it didn't really look like a train at all, but more like lumps of frosting in a single-file line, waiting anxiously for recess. And the frosting lump teacher is all, "Sorry, we can't go outside for recess today, because it's raining chocolate sprinkles," and the lumps are like, "Oh please! Oh please! We're lumps of frosting! Our lives suck and we're going to get eaten and die before bedtime! Please just grant us our dying wish to go outside for recess!" And the teacher is all, "Oh, okay, whatever," and the lumps are like, "Yea!" And then they go outside and get covered by chocolate sprinkles. And then Grace is all, "Nummies!" And she rips off the nearest frosting lump's upper body and shovels into her gaping maw. And all the other frosting lumps are just kind of sitting there, petrified with fear because, you know, Charlie just got dismembered right before their eyes. Then Shannon shoves wax poles in their frosting lump eye sockets and lights them on fire. The humanity! I avert my eyes and run upstairs, sobbing into my shirt tail at the poor frosting lumps' plight. And then I get sort of hungry, so I come back down and eat Charlie's brother, Fred. He tastes like chicken. Yum.
So here's the birthday boy, looking pensive, pondering whether he's going to get a blob of hummus and a piece of pita bread like he did last year. Fortunately for him, this year he lives in America, and his grandma lives close by, so he got lots of fun toys that he beat his sisters up over. Awesome!
I got him a bottle of aftershave. Seriously, he smells like saliva and bad breath most of the time, so I thought some Old Spice would do him some good. Hey, I don't think you should judge me. Did my gift cause any sibling punch-ups?
Here's the crew waiting for the cake to be served. Well, two-thirds of the crew is waiting; Grace is doing what the third child must to get nourished: plundering the booty before the older kids are sure what just happened. You've got to hand it to her. It's a good strategy. Sure, you can get in trouble for sticking your hand in the cake and shoving a fistful in your mouth before everyone has sung "Happy Birthday," but no one can really remove the cake from your mouth and put it back. So, yeah, you get in trouble, but you get first go at the cake, and that's pretty cool. Good work, Grace.
Shannon did a great job making a Thomas the Tank Engine cake for Halen. Here's a picture of Shannon dropping a candle... or is she using the Force to re-erect it?
Now, some might say that it didn't really look like a train at all, but more like lumps of frosting in a single-file line, waiting anxiously for recess. And the frosting lump teacher is all, "Sorry, we can't go outside for recess today, because it's raining chocolate sprinkles," and the lumps are like, "Oh please! Oh please! We're lumps of frosting! Our lives suck and we're going to get eaten and die before bedtime! Please just grant us our dying wish to go outside for recess!" And the teacher is all, "Oh, okay, whatever," and the lumps are like, "Yea!" And then they go outside and get covered by chocolate sprinkles. And then Grace is all, "Nummies!" And she rips off the nearest frosting lump's upper body and shovels into her gaping maw. And all the other frosting lumps are just kind of sitting there, petrified with fear because, you know, Charlie just got dismembered right before their eyes. Then Shannon shoves wax poles in their frosting lump eye sockets and lights them on fire. The humanity! I avert my eyes and run upstairs, sobbing into my shirt tail at the poor frosting lumps' plight. And then I get sort of hungry, so I come back down and eat Charlie's brother, Fred. He tastes like chicken. Yum.