"Broke, Broke!" While I'm here in NB, playing outside in zero degrees, my grandparents are back in Oregon, stumbling around trying to put their house back together. Moreover, they are not getting along very well; they really need my help. In the middle of all of the re-construction work, Grandpa made a deposit in the upstairs bathroom, and when the toilet overflowed on the new flooring, he drug Gramma to Home Depot to look for the biggest flusher he could find. He was happy when he saw one with a sign on it that said: "Flushes Fifty Golf Balls." Being a golfer, he yelled, "Hole in One." He didn't even care that it was so big that now Gramma has to share her knees with the towel rack when she takes a seat. To make matters worse, the next day, Grandpa made a deposit in the downstairs toilet; when he leaned over to flush, the golf pencil, behind his ear, fell into the mix and went down with the ship. Two days later, the bathroom started to stink. When Grandpa researched the problem, he discovered sewage around the pump in the utility area. After taking the lid off and pulling out the pump, he found his golf pencil wedged in the motor. A lot of bad words blended with the smell, but he finally got everything running again. Then the real battle began. In the process of working on the pump, he discovered little white plastic "feminine hygiene" relics circling in the pump water. Although these did not cause the backup, Grandpa likes to give credit where credit is due. He reminded Gramma that we pump up hill so these little critters should not be put in the tank. Furthermore, he told Gramma to put the word out to all of the women who come to our house. Well, you know Gramma, she is always eager to get along, so she said, "I will," "Right after you tell all of the men not to take a ____ with a pencil behind their ear!"
Friday, October 23, 2009
Plumbing Problems
"Broke, Broke!" While I'm here in NB, playing outside in zero degrees, my grandparents are back in Oregon, stumbling around trying to put their house back together. Moreover, they are not getting along very well; they really need my help. In the middle of all of the re-construction work, Grandpa made a deposit in the upstairs bathroom, and when the toilet overflowed on the new flooring, he drug Gramma to Home Depot to look for the biggest flusher he could find. He was happy when he saw one with a sign on it that said: "Flushes Fifty Golf Balls." Being a golfer, he yelled, "Hole in One." He didn't even care that it was so big that now Gramma has to share her knees with the towel rack when she takes a seat. To make matters worse, the next day, Grandpa made a deposit in the downstairs toilet; when he leaned over to flush, the golf pencil, behind his ear, fell into the mix and went down with the ship. Two days later, the bathroom started to stink. When Grandpa researched the problem, he discovered sewage around the pump in the utility area. After taking the lid off and pulling out the pump, he found his golf pencil wedged in the motor. A lot of bad words blended with the smell, but he finally got everything running again. Then the real battle began. In the process of working on the pump, he discovered little white plastic "feminine hygiene" relics circling in the pump water. Although these did not cause the backup, Grandpa likes to give credit where credit is due. He reminded Gramma that we pump up hill so these little critters should not be put in the tank. Furthermore, he told Gramma to put the word out to all of the women who come to our house. Well, you know Gramma, she is always eager to get along, so she said, "I will," "Right after you tell all of the men not to take a ____ with a pencil behind their ear!"
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Happy Birthday Uncle Kerry
This is my birthday dance for Uncle Kerry.
Gramma is missing me something terrible. She looks back at the summer pictures with high hopes for my future. She taught me how to do the Tango in hopes that I might be on Dancing with the Stars sometime soon. There she goes again with that child prodigy talk.
It's been awhile since I posted because mommy has been trying to keep my hairdo out of the public eye. According to Gramma Rosie, I'm now sporting my Daddy's "cowlick." I don't know what licking a cow has to do with my hair, but no one says it like it's a good thing. I do know that licking ice cream is not over rated and I'm glad that I finally am old enough to have my own cone!
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