While the cold, frigid temperatures annoy me to no end, at least there is not a large layer of white stuff covering this:
And I am just about ready for McKay's birthday party tomorrow night. I'm going the lazy route, and he and his pals will be watching a movie and eating pizza in the basement, while I thumb through a magazine upstairs. The party favors are all lined up and ready to go:
And while shopping yesterday, I ran across an incredible bargain. A store near my house was getting rid of some of their display tables, and were selling them for twenty bucks each. This little beauty will grace the scrapbook room/office and provide the children more surface area in which to color or paint on. You know, because actually coloring on paper does ask a lot of them.
I just have to figure out how to get it downstairs first. Looks to me like a job for the Husband, when he gets home.
He'll be so thrilled, I just know it.
Some happy thoughts for me today. What's on your mind?
Instead of having those two extra days to make the cars all by himself work with the boys, The Husband was scrambling to get the cars finished in time. In his haste, there was an incident with Chase's car.
The unfortunate incident rendered the car completely unusable (unless he wanted to send it careening down the track with no wheels. I thought it might be funny, but Chase didn't really see that as a viable option).
Through tear-filled eyes, Chase told The Husband it was okay. Though his heart was broken, he resigned himself to using McKay's car from last year. I quickly grabbed the spray paint Chase had picked out for his own car, and we went to work, remaking the hand-me-down car. Before long, even Chase began to get excited again about the race.
His entry was The Golden Frog. Why golden? I'm not really sure. Maybe because of his great love for money.
And why frog? Well, because when he's not voluntarily studying Winston and the War, Chase is dreaming, thinking, talking, and obsessing about frogs.
Here were this year's entries. McKay's is the bright orange one in front with a large firebird on the hood. Me thinks his taste in cars is a little too close to the white trash style that I take so much pleasure in mocking. I won't tell him that unless he someday decides to buy a car just like it.
Don't worry that some poor cub scout had to endure the lifelong shame of bringing in the pink car. It was a dummy car that they'd rigged to come in last on every race.
You know, because it's not about winning or losing, right?
Try telling that to McKay, here on pins and needles:
And what sporting event is complete without a gratuitous shot of the hot and sassy cheerleading squad? Here was ours:
The Husband and I held our breath as both cars went down the track for the first time. Much to our relief, neither one lost a wheel.
But much more important was the fact that we didn't take first place (which would entitle us to spend hours and hours at a district competition), and we didn't take last place (which would entitle us to spend hours and hours with sad boys at home).
A win-win for everyone.
All in all, the Pinewood Derby was a roaring success for the boys.
Now we can rest for another year. Thank goodness. I don't know what we'd do if this blessed event came any more often.
Welcome! I am Christie, a wife, mother, and diet coke addict. I write to remember the gift that is my life. I wear diamond shoes, complain frequently, and wish desperately that my babies would stop growing up so fast.
“You’re all too self-absorbed to pay any attention to me!”
