Do hormones make teenagers stupid??

Fourth of July Blake comes up from the cave in the basement. Wants a piece of chicken. Twisty and I are sitting in the family room. He asks me if I could heat him up a piece of leftover chicken. I say.... you can heat yourself up a piece of chicken. He looks at me and says...I don't know how. My response is simply...WOW. Twisty looks over at me and asks if hormones make teenagers dumb. I look back over at Blake, I tell him to pretend he is the only person in the house and he is starving. Now see if you can figure out how to heat up the chicken so you don't stave to death. He looks at me and says......can you just do it? HELL TO THE NO. Now get your butt in that kitchen and figure this crap out. Of course Grandma comes to the rescue.

Twisty is making a pan of brownies for the fourth. She asks the kids if they want to lick the beaters. Mom...aka....Debbie chimes in. She says....they can't lick those there are raw eggs in there....they can get salmonella. Whaaaaaa, whaaaaaa, whaaaaaa! Aidan who is a worry wort already eyes get really large.....he says....Seriously? I say....No, just eat those. Later that night Cole is on the sofa. He says....my tummy hurts do you think I have that thing? I say...what thing? He says.....ya know that salmonmellon sickness.

Dad...aka...Grumps takes the boys to golf. The house is pretty quite for several hours. This is bliss. The boys come back from golf. They are all dramatic about Grumps almost getting killed by a golf club. They each have their own version of how this almost beheading went down. Aidan's is the most dramatic by far. Grumps is alright, though I think these people should have bought him a beer.

Aunt Sue comes for a visit. Sue is the family singer, not a professional one but a singer for sure.

We are having so much fun with Ella.

Cole is still the entertainer of the bunch here. At least he gets us laughing even if sometimes he makes me puke in my mouth.

The boys have been great with Ella.

We have been playing wiffle ball every night. I can't believe Twisty is rocking some Grinch boxer shorts to play. This is yet another reason I call her Twisty. It's funny because my team usually wins. So it may be because the neighborhood kid who is always on the other team is afraid to whip the ball at me to tag me out. It's good to be the queen.

While sitting on the sofa tonight. Twisty says.....hey hillbilly get your shoe off the couch. I say...what's your problem. She is like think of where your shoes have been they probably have feces on them. Me I am thinking there are other parts of me that were probably in worst places.


Anywho, we are still living like Mexicans here in my parents house. Both parents, their three grown children, their four grandchildren, and three large dogs. So Mom and Dad who have never had dogs are not used to all the poops in the yard. They want them picked up as soon as they hit the ground. Mom...aka...Debbie calls me this morning to report that before she went to work she saw a poop under the sycamore tree and I need to get it picked up. Now Debbie is a green thumb who knows exactly what every tree she planted is in the yard. Me I can't tell you what the hell is in my yard besides the sunflowers. I say.....Which tree is the sycamore one????? She say the one by the patio. Now we have a ton of trees so this still means nothing to me. I think we should have a little flashing police light that pops up in the yard and flashes every time a dog shits so we can get it picked up asap and keep us out of trouble.

Since Twisty has moved back in with my parents they are trying to get rid of things to make room for her. They have at least 600 records. They want to just trow them away. Twisty wants to sell them on Craig's list. So at the dinner table tonight we are discussing the records. Debbie says.......should I expect a Craig's list person to rob us???? whaaaa, whaaa, whaaa!

My Grandma passed away on Thanksgiving as some of you know who follow this blog. My Twisty just did a garage sale at her house. Now we are getting rid of stuff that didn't sell. Twisty brings home a glass piece for one of my cousins. Debbie says...I want to keep that. Twisty says.......Why you have more glass pieces than a Crate&Barrel.

You might be bored as shit with my stories but one final one. I was at my Uncle Jimmy's house today. There is an urban legend about my uncle Tommy wrestling a bear. Now no one knows if the is bullshit or truth. I'm talking to Twisty about it. Debbie chimes in to say did you hear about that guy that got eaten by a bear in Yellowstone this weekend. Whaaaa, whaaa, whaaaaa.