It's all fun and games

I know they're going out of style like fanny packs and mullets, but I LOVE board games. This is probably a result of Mom never buying us Nintendos or PlayStations. But with 5+ kids, who can blame her? So our evenings were often spent playing a variety of board games often with several pieces missing or improvised pieces. Now, I'm not necessarily a lover of competition. Except when it comes to family. If I'm going up against one of my brothers or sisters you can bet your bottom dollar that I will give it all I have. My MeeMaw was an epic original gamer. She taught me the ageless games of chicken foot, Pollyanna, Skip-Bo, Uno, and several others. But her most important lesson? Never, ever, EVER lose. If that means that your three year old granddaughter cries her eyes out because you "killed" her pieces every single time she left home, then so be it. And yes, the word was "kill" and we did indeed lose to our grandmother. There was no everyone wins or take pity on the younger players. - END RANT -

As a result of this upbringing, I have been a part of some epic game nights. (Although Phillip informed me I missed a good one this past Saturday...poor Brad.) I've watched Phillip and Charlie battle it out at Monopoly until 4am when Phillip lost and cried like a baby. I've been on the receiving end of Spoon Wounds. (If you don't know what Spoon wounds are...sign up for the next game night.) When the games come out, the only rules that apply are those established by the great Parker Bros. themselves. Whether is Sibling v. Sibling, Parent v. Child, or Protestants v. Catholics, the gloves can and will come off. Video games aren't really my style. There's no interaction. An energetic game of Uno, though? Well, you can get 10 people from completely different backgrounds ready to rip each other to shreds over a red number 6. THAT's gaming.

So this post is dedicated to Game Night. Gather your friends and family. Tell your children, "See your brother? Take him out". And watch how much fun they have. Let them know that winning IS everything, and if you lose, the only appropriate response is to rechallenge the winner for your family's honor. There's no pouting allowed. Only cold, ruthless revenge taken by slaughtering your opponents wooden game piece. I guarantee you will have much more fun than Wii Bowling. Until next post...Happy 4th of July and I hope you add a little competition to the holidays.

A Patriotic Moment

I must start off by confessing a little-known secret of mine. I am a habitual label reader. I read labels when I am going through my daily, mundane tasks. I don't do this for any health or wellness concerns. Usually I am bored and it has become a habit so I read the labels off anything - soap, DVDs, Germ-X, etc. Think of it like a kid that reads the back of the cereal box. I do this too, but I also work my way through the ingredients list and wonder if there's someone at Quaker Cereals that just throws long words in the list for fun. As if some executive is like "Hey, Bob. Let's add proxysocoglucocamine to the ingredient list!" To which Bob would ask, "What is proxysocoglucocamine?" And the former executive would shrug and say: "Made it up. Wonder if anyone would notice."

Moving on - (Sometimes I distract myself) tonight as I was taking my shower I started reading the label of my Apricot Facial Scrub and noticed at the bottom it read: Made in the USA. I was immediately excited. I do not shop on the basis of where the product is made. According to my high school economics teacher, this is not good for the American economy. But if one shirt at Walmart is made in a Taiwanese sweat shop and sells for $5 and I have the choice between that and a shirt that looks exactly the same for $50 just because it was made in the good ole US of A, I'm most likely going to go support Taiwanese child laborers. It's just the ingrained capitalist in me. The cheaper product sells. But when I saw that written in -12 pt font on the bottom of the label, I suddenly felt very patriotic. In a little way, I was restoring the US economy by using my facial scrub. Excitedly, I started looking on EVERY bath product I had and here's what I discovered. My bath products are exclusively made in the USA. I was very proud of myself as I prevented acne and AT THE SAME TIME did my little part in helping our nation.

So, tonight, I felt a little warmer as I brushed my teeth knowing that while my clothes may all come from SE Asia, my bathroom is probably the most patriotic room in the house!

The Terrifying Pterodactyl of Texas!

To begin my first blog of 2011, I'd like to provide a picture:

To cover my butt for copyright purposes - This is not my picture. I copied it from http://library.thinkquest.org/ .

Moving on. The above picture is of a pterodactyl. Pronounced: terr-o-dak-til. For those of you thinking it is a giant bat, think again. This is (in my highly inexperienced knowledge of prehistoric animals) a flying dinosaur. I realize that is not TECHNICALLY what it is, but that's the best definition I can give.

Many of you know that my husband, Matt, is not well-versed in wildlife or the outdoors. His specialties are technology, gaming, and finding excuses that will get him out of going outside. :) Some of you may have heard the story of the armadillo almost two years ago. If you haven't, search my blog, the story is there. We had a similar story the other night. And I just KNOW you will all want to hear it. So my first blog in a VERY long time is dedicated to the men in my life: Matt and Oliver.

It was a Sunday night. I'm pretty sure it was the Sunday before Memorial day, but I could be wrong. I was up late (about 4 am) feeding Oliver, and was getting that blank I've-been-up-too-long stare when all of a sudden I hear a loud thump on the side of our house. Now, we live in a trailer. To be PC, it's a manufactured home. But it's a trailer. So my first thought is, "Stupid bird". Because we've had some seriously territorial mocking birds attacking things in the bushes behind our house and I was sure one of them flew into the side of the house to scare a frog out of its territory. But I was proven wrong when I heard whatever it was "thump" it's way along the side of our skirting.

It only lasts about 5 seconds, so I shrug it off and go back to coaxing Oliver to hurry up and finish. Then, about 2 minutes later....THUMP! thump, thump, thump, SLAM! At this point, I'm convinced something is trapped underneath our trailer. Most likely an armadillo. For those of you who have had the PLEASURE of living in a "manufactured home", you know that all your pipes wind their way around down there and a stray, crazy animal and collide with those pipes and cause hundreds of dollars of damage to a home that is already falling apart thanks to Ike. (Literally - the walls have separated from the floors in some spots...different story)

I have two choices: 1. Leave it alone. Most likely the animal will find it's way out and be on its merry way. OR 2. Wake up Matt and have him scare it off before damage is done. The problem with option 2 is that Matt CONSTANTLY thinks someone is trying to break in, steal our cars, or perform Satanic rituals on our bodies. So, if I wake him, he'll most likely flip out and do who knows what to an unsuspecting/undeserving animal.

I hear it again. Option 2 it is. I woke up Matt, who mumbled something that sounded like, "whaa?" And we had the following conversation:

ME: Wake up, there's something hitting the side of the house.
MATT: What?
ME: Listen. It's done it like 3 times!
Silence....
MATT: I don't hear anything.
ME: Of course you wouldn't.
Silence...
MATT: You think it's someone trying to break in? (Told you.)
ME: No, I think it's an animal.
MATT: What should I do?
ME: Go scare it -
THUMP. THUMP. SLAM!
ME: See?!

At this point, Matt woke up Tango because he's such a large, fierce dog (For those of you who don't know, Tango's a 14lb. dachshund) and went on to the porch to face the oncoming army that wanted to kill us in our sleep!

All I can see is Matt and Tango's shadows in the porch light through the screen door. Then all of a sudden I hear Matt: "HOLY COW!!!! It's a freaking pterodactyl! It's huge! It's gotta be 50 lbs!" He continues as I'm starting to wonder if we've entered Jurassic Park. He came back into the house, swearing he saw a bird that had a wing span of 60 inches or more (he was comparing it to our TV) and he was going to call the team from Destination Truth to investigate the existence of dinosaurs in the area.

So what mysterious, flying monster is stalking the skies of Fannett on a balmy Sunday afternoon? Will it attack your animals and eat your children for a midnight snack? I highly doubt it. After looking up a few pictures for Matt to compare it with, he settle on this:

(Photo copied from gosanangelo.com) Yep, this scary beast was none other than an owl. My theory? We have a family of rabbits living in the bushes behind our house. I think we heard a poor rabbit trying to escape the owl. Of course, to hear Matt tell the story, it was the biggest owl ever seen and he and Tango fought bravely to save our lives from this terrible monstrosity.

Perhaps, one day, my dear husband will learn not to fear the wildlife of Southeast Texas. But, until then, beware the pterodactyl of Texas. It has been spotted lurking in bushes, bombarding local homes and terrorizing citizens.