My Point Exactly

I overheard this exchange between Motormouth and Sgt. G today as Sgt. G walked in the door from work.

Motormouth: Daddy, why does your face look like that?

Sgt. G: huh?

Motormouth: Your forehead is all scrunched up and it makes these lines....it makes you look mad.

Sgt. G: I don't know what you are talking about, this is my regular face.

Motormouth: I KNOW......but you always look grumpy.

Major life epiphanies win every time.

G gets home from work earlier this week, looking exhausted.

Sgt. G: Well. My day sucked.

Me: Really? Because I dealt with a screaming fit from Monkey that lasted for about 45 minutes.

Sgt. G: what is his deal lately?..........So, how is that new?

Me: He was naked and threatening to kill me.

Sgt. G: why was he naked?

Me: That's the part that concerns you? Thanks. So, you think your day beats death threats from a naked 6 year old? Try and top it.

Sgt. G: (sighs) I realized today that I spent most of the day trying to get a guy INTO the Army that as an M.P. I would have tried to get kicked OUT of the Army.

Me: oh......you win.

Get off my six.

Motormouth comes running out of his room "Mom!! There's a bug in my room. It fell out of a box and you have to get it!"

Me: A bug. Where is it?

Motormouth: At three o'clock.

Me: Say again?

Motormouth: It fell at my three o'clock

Me: Motormouth, do you know where your three o'clock is?

Motormouth: IN MY ROOM

Me: Pretend you are standing on a clock face. So here is 12, 3, 6 is behind you, and 9....make sense?

Motormouth: Oh, I just had heard it on a TV show with soldiers and stuff. Daddy says it too.

Me: Those are generally the kind of people who wouldn't need to call their mom to get the bug.

Motormouth: Get it, get it get it!!

Okay. Most of you know that I call my husband Sgt. GrumpyPants because, well, if you have ever met him you know......he scowls a lot and generally acts grumpy. Not really all that creative on my part. To tell the truth I find his scowl to be endearing, and it turns out, hereditary. Motormouth was born with a little scowl all his own, and it was the first thing I could see and be able to say "I know just who he got THAT from!" Monkey also scowled way before he ever learned to smile, which I find comforting. But things have been changing around here, and I am starting to realize that the nickname might not be so fitting anymore. Sgt. G has become much less crabby in the past several months......and the nickname doesn't quite fit (you know, like an old pair of Pants....okay so that was a little lame.....) Don't tell anyone, but he has actually had several days where he has been downright cheerful. And dare I say, happy. Not giddy with glee or anything, but not quite so gloomy either. So, it brings me back to my dilemma. The nickname. Should it be changed? And if so, to what? Any suggestions? I have gotten quite used to Sgt. G, so something starting with the same letter would be helpful because it is hard for me to keep up with too many changes. G himself had some suggestions that weren't really fit to print.....so we will ignore them. Just like I ignore his feelings about my blog in general- now that he knows I have one.

He came back for a second helping

While living in Germany I ran into an Army wife that made mashed potatoes with mayonnaise in them to make them creamier. Sounds gross, but is actually pretty good. She confided in me that her husband was horrified at the thought of eating potatoes that way and so she has snuck the offending ingredient into the recipe ever since. I thought that was good advise, and started quietly putting mayo into our potatoes. This has worked really well for us, since the boys can't eat any form of dairy, and we only ever have vanilla flavored soy milk in the house, I use the GF/CF mayo as a milk substitute. Sgt. G caught me the last time.

Sgt. G: Oh my God. What are you doing?

Me: um....cooking? you should go back into the living room now.

Sgt. G: you can't be putting that into the potatoes, it's disgusting!!

Me: would it make you feel better if I told you have eaten these potatoes several times already and you never noticed before?

Sgt. G: (fingers in his ears) LaLaLaLaLa!!

Me: oh yeah? I learned this from a wife in Germany, we moved back stateside 5 YEARS ago.

Sgt. G: you have seriously put that into my potatoes before.

Me: (looking slightly guilty) Not EVERY time.

I am almost postive that Sgt. G says ABSOLUTELY

This weekend we were camping in our parents yard (how redneck is that??? )

There are two very good reasons for this:
1. we want to get to use the new camper, but want to see family as much as possible this summer, and
2. the dog isn't allowed in the house

Monkey and I were heading in for bathroom and breakfast and we were having a disagreement on who should have to walk to the house. I felt that since it was morning, and we all have legs, that we should all use them. Monkey clearly disagreed. He jumps in front of me, scowls, bends over a little, and waves his arms (think umpire declaring the runner "safe") and says
"No!! Ab-so-mootly NOT!!!"

Do you have any idea how hard it is too keep a straight face when your six year old mimics your husband when he is angry? What is funnier is that G didn't realize that Monkey was doing a daddy impression.

well, now I can't give him crap about it.

Sgt G. was cleaning our bedroom, and he comes out folding some hunter orange pants. He is finally getting all his hunting stuff out of our bedroom and stored back out in the garage until fall.

Me: Wait, are those new pants? (tags still hanging on them....I am quite the detective). When did you get those?

G: These are those ones I bought on sale...we've had this discussion.

Me: Didn't you just buy pants last year? I swear with the money you spend on hunting stuff....

G: No I didn't just buy pants last year. The only orange pants I had were the first pair my dad got me about 15 years ago. I'm going to give them to Motormouth.

He holds them up and they do look like they would fit a nine year old easier than they would fit him.

G: I bought this shirt last year (he holds up another hunter orange object)

Me: (peering into the storage tub) huh. Wait, are these the camo pants I wore when we took the kids sledding? (I don't own a pair of snowpants....which is why you don't ever see pictures of me sledding with the kids....I look like Backwoods Barbie) Or are these new pants too?

G: No, those are not new, and those are not the ones you wore. Those have suspenders. You wore my camo coverall set.

Me: So, you have two pairs of camo pants for hunting?

G: (slowly) yeeeessss.

Me: Oh, wait. I get it. It's like shoes.

G: What?

Me: Your hunting stuff. It's your version of women's shoes. You know, you have all this stuff when just one or two things would do. I don't get why you spend money on this and everything in here looks pretty much the same to me.

G: You got me. These are my women's shoes.