Best Day Ever!

Today was exceptional. Yes, truly glorious. 

We started with Physical Therapy. For those who do not follow our every move, I had surgery on my hip at the end of August and am crutch bound. Now I have been crutch bound before, twenty one years ago to be precise, but being older, heavier and out of shape changes the way one can move on crutches. When I was last on crutches it was due to me being strong enough to blow an Achilles tendon. I was riding a hundred miles per week on my bicycle. I don't think I could ride to the local cemetery and back now. PT and the crutching in and out of the building in the rain wore me out.

We followed this with a trip to Primary Children's Medical Center (PCMC) for Andrew's cardiology appointment. Since I am not allowed to put weight on my leg Naomi insist I drive the 2001 Mazda 626. This car is named 'Maher-shalal-hash-baz', which means 'Destruction is imminent'. Upon arriving at PCMC I found the car would move forward when I put it in park. Which was odd. When shifting into neutral it would also move forward, and in reverse it would move forward. Oddly, it had waited until we were in the valet parking to have this interesting failure of gearbox. I turned it off to see if it would reset. It did not and since cars will not start when in Drive, we were stuck.

Naomi and Andrew went in to queue up and I called the insurance company and arranged a tow. The hobbled in  to the waiting area. I decided to wait for my wife and son as they took care of xrays and blood draws. To amuse myself I talked with a twelve year old boy with Downs syndrome. Cirrus Rain was his name. He was great fun. We talked of where he lived and he gave me detailed instruction on how to drive there. He asked my weight, 270 pounds I replied, then he asked his mother's weight, she demurred. He stroked my arm and noticed how hairy I am. I pointed out I shaved my face that day and he stroked it and  pronounced it "Soft as a baby's butt". Soon we saw the doctor and then I crutched my baby-butt-soft face out to the drive to find a way home. 

Here is where a good day becomes great! Just across the street from PCMC is a light rail station. Yes, the pinnacle of mass transit was withing my grasp. Of course 100 yards on crutches looked like a distant spec on the horizon. It took me about as long too. We transferred down town to another train, finding the right station and Trax route with the help of a nice couple. There a polite veteran named Gordon helped keep me from falling as I tried to get on the next train. 

At last we reached the central station. Not bad, except for the distance from the Trax to the Frontrunner train that would take us to Woodscross station. Another eternity go me to a bench to wait for the next train. Only a forty four minute wait. I passed the time by calling my boss, coworker, transmission shop and my sister Mary who lives in Phoenix and we feared was washed away in the heavy rains. All was well in work, shop and dell and we settled in for an uneventful ride to Woodscross. 

Salvation was waiting at the station. Dave Thornell's mini van was waiting at the curb, only two hundred yards away. I stopped to rest only once. Upon reflection, skipping breakfast was not a good idea. I got home at about 3:00pm, ate a sandwich, rested for half an hour and then logged in for work, about three hours later than I planned. 

I have muscles in my back I did not know about, and they all want attention tonight. The arms are sore, but the back is speaking louder. Of course I overdid and the hip hurts too.

What made the day so glorious?  

We made our appointment, a mechanical failure any sooner and we would have missed that. Andrew's cardio appointments are worth a little discomfort. 

I got to meet Cirrus, a memorial delight all by itself. Seeing his mother's discomfort and humor about his questions made it even better.

Andrew loves trains, taking three to get home made his whole day. He was very good during the entire long adventure. So was his mother, a real trooper.

I saw the kindness of strangers, and though a little embarrassed to need the help am very grateful for it.

The Thornells are my new personal heroes for the day, no, week, year, decade. He and Linda do not get the praise the deserve. 

To top the day off Claudia mowed my lawn for me. Good neighbors and friends make my day. I'll top my day off with a Lortab nightcap and call it a day well spent. 

In the Garden of the Beast

Rachel gave up on this book, but I really liked it.

We see two parallel studies, a little known ambassador named Dodd in Berlin and Adolf Hitler. By telling the stories of Ambassador Dodd and his family as he unfolds the history of Germany from 1933 to 1938 you see not only how bad the Nazis were but how people could close their eyes to it. The Dodds clearly had their eyes closed at first. The ambassador was often taken advantage of, as was Von Pappen, Hindenburg, Chamberland and virtually everyone who dealt with Hitler, Goering, Goebbels, Himmler and a cast of thousands of petty sadist who flocked to their banner or were corrupted by it.

Dodd's daughter Martha  is an especially interesting character. Naive and worldly at the same time. She is in many ways a loathsome person of few morals, but she personally intercedes to save people from certain death by using her position as the ambassador's daughter.

In the end I agree that Dodd was a remarkably good man, and gave remarkably good service at a very difficult time. He certainly was better than his successor, or even the most celebrated ambassador of his age, Joseph Kennedy. He was a man of morals an honor who used his position in many remarkable ways. Unfortunately he was able to save individuals from death at the hands of the Nazis, not a nation. Nor was he able to awake the US upon his return to the horrors that were growing in Europe. Americans did not wan tot know.

Reading this gave me pause to think of our own time. Germany did not fall at once into the horrors of the Nazis. It came in steps. The slippery slope is alive and well in the USA. Freedom of religion is being turned to freedom from religion. People, including Senators, Representatives and Presidents of both parties quietly ignore the 4th amendment and allow the NSA to grossly overstep personal privacy while judges run wild overturning states' constitutions and voters' mandates on a daily basis. The 10th amendment seems to be forgotten or out of fashion.

I give it 4 out of 5 stars for history

3 out of 5 for a biography or personal interest piece. Dodd and his family are simply not that interesting.  It is Hitler and his group that grab your attention. The Dodds just remind you that it was Germany, not the world that was falling into madness. The world just fell into denial.

20 Woe unto them that call evil good, and good evil; that put darkness for light, and light for darkness; that put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter!

 21 Woe unto them that are wise in their own eyes, and prudent in their own sight!

Isaiah 5: 20-21

Good Morning Dad ...

Ever have one of those days that just starts out wrong?

Picture a normal day, get up, shower, shave, brush your teeth. Normal. What is that odd taste? Its not minty or fresh. My gums are going numb. This is not 'Sensodyne', the tube is the same size, it is the right place, it has the same flip top, it is 10% Cortisone cream. That wasn't in my medicine cabinet, really it wasn't, and the toothpaste is nowhere to be seen.

Yuck!

You can't tell me he didn't know exactly what he was doing, Down Syndrome, Autism, OCD my ass, he's been faking it for the last 21 years just to get me with this gag. And I do mean gag.  

Turning Money into Noise

I just spent two beautiful days in lovely Parump Nevada. For those of you who do not know Parump it is North West of Las Vegas. Imagine Vegas without any glamour or water and very few people. That is Parump. The main draw in Parump FrontSight shooting range. My brother Bob, his son Avery and I shot a two day course there this week. 

 Now before you put me in the box with all of the Preppers and Right Wing Nuts, let me just say that making things go boom is fun. Firecrackers, toy cannons, paper bags are nothing compared with a good .45 handgun. And if you think a .45 is fun, try a full auto machine gun! Yes, I did. I paid forty dollars to shoot one, count it one magazine of 9mm in an MP5. I still have that silly grin on my face. Really, the laws must be wrong when something that fun is illegal to buy. I would register my fingerprints, DNA and retinal scan to buy one of those. In fact I'd register my rectal scan to buy one. I know I would never need it, it would be like a Ferrari, but safer and one twentieth the cost. *sigh* Oh, well.

We finished the course in a shoot house. It is a scenario simulating a threat in your home. You take your position and pictures pop out (paper posters on frames). You have to decide to shoot or not shoot. In this case a wall fell open revealing a bad looking man with a big gun pointed at me while my instructor yelled insults to increase the stress, realism or fun, depending on your take. Something like, "YOU STUPID DOGFUNKED OYSTER SODDED MOTHERLESS STENCH WEASEL!" I may have forgotten the exact phrase, as I was busy drawing a gun and putting a single bullet right between his eyes. I actually hit the bridge of his nose. I was suppose to put a controlled pair of bullets into the center of the chest, but I was looking down the barrel of a really big gun. The nose seemed like a good idea at the time. 

The rest of the scenario went well, except when I ran out of bullets at the end facing a hostage situation. I pulled the trigger and no boom. A very loud silence indeed. A quick, or rather an emergency reload and another head shot and all was good in the world.

I have a stressful job, at times a stressful home with a special needs child. We all face money and health issues now and then. Odd that going somewhere and playing with the most stressful situations I can imaging could be so relaxing. I guess it like Halloween, a chance to face or even make fun of your fears in a safe way. I think the sudden rush of adrenalin, the quick excitement and the chance to learn and review is very different from the daily grind where as soon as I finish one challenge another takes its place. It was also fun to do something completely different. Basically, this is like golf with noise. Besides, I can hit the target with a gun, have you ever seen me golf, now that is scary and dangerous!

Bad Mother

You’re A Bad Mother!

We live in a very judgmental society and internet has made us more so. Sending a flaming condemnation about someone you don’t know is easily done with just a touch of a button. My niece Amy writes a blog about living in the country with a brood of children. Being a conscientious mother, and concerned with nutrition she whips up daily smoothies, and being human sometimes things go amiss, which makes one of the best stories ever! Go here to read it for yourself.  After posting her blog she got some very strong comments, on the order of “You are the worst mother ever.” Before we start throwing stones, consider, we are all bad parents.

If you work hard long hours to provide for your children then you are a bad mother because they really need your time, not the physical things.

If you spend all of your waking hours cooking and cleaning and caring for your children then you are a bad mother. How will they ever learn to do for themselves? Will they be momma’s boys and girls who expect everyone and everything to be focused on them? Will they still be living in your basement at age forty-two?

If you are a peacemaker and help your child resolve conflict or make sure everything is always fair in their dealings with friends and siblings then you are a bad mother as all of your hovering will never prepare them for a world that is unfair, has bullies, and cares as much about their feelings as a lion does about a zebra’s.

If you buy your children fun toys then you are spoiling them.

If you don’t buy your children fun toys then you are neglecting them.

You cannot win. We are all bad mothers and fathers. Just ask the kids, they will tell you.

My father was one of nine children raised by a stepmother. She was married to my grandfather for six months or so when he died, leaving her three months pregnant and with eight children. They lived in a two bedroom home with a converted “Sleeping Porch”. It was heated by a wood/coal burning stove in the kitchen. Oh, and it was in the Depression. He recalled at age twelve everything he owned he had bought himself with money he earned hoeing sugar beets. Was she a bad mother? Neglectful? Aunts and uncles probably thought so. They were willing to farm out the kids and provide for them. Eunice prayerfully considered the options and followed the spirit.  

We all make mistakes. Out of those mistakes our children learn. God is perfect. He has perfect genes, he lives in a perfect world, and 1/3 of his children rebelled. Eunice looks pretty good compared to that statistic. (Yes, did I just presume to judge God? I must be a bad mother, er father.) 

My mother had six children and, really, two lives. In one life she was fun, active, involved. And the other she was sick, tired, depressed and drug addicted. Oh, the addiction was for pain pills, they give you those when you have cancer. It killed her after a decade or so, the cancer, not the pills. I suppose there could have been better outcomes, but all of my siblings learned to wash dishes and clothes, clean bathrooms, mow lawns, make decisions, etc. She gave them the best she had and then some. 

Was she a bad mother? I hope so; it is easier to learn from other’s mistakes than from your own. I learned a healthy fear of pain meds. Last surgery I had, I used eight pills out of 30. Well done, Mom. Your example saved me. I learned there are times not to drive but just hand over the keys. I learned to do the damn dishes, even when it is not my turn. I learned hundreds of other little things from my mother's failures. I also learned from her successes, but the failures make better stories.

Mom would not have thought she was a good mother. She died when I was twenty-four. I’m sure she felt her work was half done. She was wrong. She did a great job and left the rest for us to do. If you are not a success at twenty-one perhaps it is your parents’ fault. If you are not a success at forty-two you have only yourself to blame. I try not to judge, but I still do. I try to remember the Savior telling us “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.” I tell myself I can’t judge others: it took us six years to potty train my son, I've watched a waffle iron fall on my daughter's head and I once tossed a folded up tent at her head. I've seen  my son put his hand into the lawnmower I was running. I have been lucky enough to have only funny stories to tell instead of tragedies to mourn. I’ll take the failures and the successes with thanks to God for the chance to play the game. 

Books for Binge-ers: Salt Sugar Fat by Michael Moss

If you have ever wondered what the Lord meant when he said:

In consequence of evils and designs which do and will exist in the hearts of conspiring men in the last days, I have warned you, and forewarn you, by giving unto you this word of wisdom by revelation—

Read this book. 350 pages of business history mixed with nutritional science makes a great read. If you wonder why processed foods are so bad and getting worse, if you want to know why many Americans drink more soda than water, if you want to know why turned from the kitchen to the drive through, this book has the answers. 

I must admit an admiration to the men and women who have worked so hard to sell so much crap to so many. They are brilliant, and many refuse to eat the very foods they pioneered. My favorite story was the man who perfected Kraft Macaroni and Cheese. When he last tried his old favorite, years after retirement, he called the hot line to complain, "What the hell did you do to it!" Seems they took the cheese out. True story, read the ingredients, no cheese. They are allowed to label it Cheese because they put in all of the ingredients  of cheese, powdered whey, milk solids, etc.  Hmmmmmm, that sounds great!

I give it 5 stars if you are interested in nutrition, business or on a diet.

Oh, I'm down from 296 lbs to 275. Looking forward to that day when I will only be 233, at which point I will be Overweight instead of Obese! My long term goal is 195. They high end of Normal.

Next book will be "The Power of Habbit".

Ray Cope and Family: Head Gaskets and Hernias

Ray Cope and Family: Head Gaskets and Hernias

Head Gaskets and Hernias

Yes, you read correctly. Today’s topics are Head Gaskets and Hernias. They deserve capitalization due to the price that each commands. About a week ago I took my truck “Chucky Bob” in for a standard oil change. I decided not to do it myself for two reasons; I don’t like working in the cold and I was sore. I have a naval hernia and felt it tear a bit a day or so before.  I got bad news on Chucky Bob, he has blown his head gasket. This explains why I sometimes smelt radiator fluid as the coolant can pass into the cylinders. Unfortunately, this is not a simple fix. You have to pull the head, the top of the motor, along with all of the pieces parts that attach to it, like the injector system and air conditioning. Then you can replace the gasket. The head needs to be machined to get a perfect fit, the timing belt realigned, the head reinstalled and torque to the proper tension, and then you put back on the pieces parts, including the AC unit, which requires a full recharge of refrigerant.

Now doing such a job might be fun, if I were retired, had lots of time, another working vehicle and good friends to work with in a fully heated and outfitted garage. I don’t and so the boys at C.J.’s Automotive got the job, and enough money to take a nice trip with the family to Mexico.  C.J.s is a good shop here in Bountiful. Not only can they replace your head gasket, but if want to buy a silenced firearm they have the licenses to do that too. They are a class 3 firearms dealer: machine guns etc. I wish I could spend the money on the head gasket on toys. It would be much more fun.

The day I took the truck in I saw my doctor. He recommended a surgeon, who recommended a Friday surgery.  Since a simple cough could cause enough pain to nearly put on the floor, I decided to take his recommendation. So while the truck is having the head gasket replaced, I was having a bellybutton nip/tuck. That is even more expensive than a head gasket. Another family vacation down the drain; however they did give me drugs. Of course I don’t like the drugs. They make my head groggy. Today is day five and I have taken 7 pain pills. I guess I’m doing well, but am surprised how tired I am. I suspect that is as much from the surgery and the pain as from the drugs.

Andrew is very worried about my Steristrips. He keeps signing ‘no IV’ and ‘Dr.’ in the past tense. He makes notes for me that saw “Bandaid off”. He will be very relieved when these come off. I did a nice job of keeping it from him for two days, but I shower him most mornings and Monday am he spotted it. There is not fooling him when it comes to Drs.

All in all it has been an expensive week! I guess I just high maintenance. Who knew?

Target Trouble

No, I am not talking about credit problems, or return issues or even surely or rude service people. My local target has been great for us. No complaints with Target as a store or a company. My complaint is with the customers, actually with the shoplifters.

I went to the bathroom at my local target and as I go in I hear something odd, not really sure what it was but I looked around and saw the handicap stall was in use. No problem there, but having a handicapped son I pay more attention. There is no sound at all from the stall. Usually you hear people, they make sounds when the go to the bathroom, nothing, not even breathing, and it is a very quite room. As I was my hands I hear two odd sounds, first there is the kind of sound a person makes when the fall or collapse against something, second was the sound a can of aerosol makes when it falls from the hand of someone who has collapsed. I turn to see a can rolling out from under the stall, a can of Dust-Off.

At this point I can take two attitudes, "Not my problem." and leave, not really my style, or I can see if I can help.

By looking through the gap in the door I see a young person collapsed akimbo on the commode. He's Dusted himself, inhaled the product to pass out and get momentary high. There are problems with this kind of recreation, like death. The door is locked. That is not a problem for me, it yielded on the first pull. Perhaps weighing 275 pounds can be a good thing.

At this point I should describe the appearance of our young victim. He is likely in his twenties from his dress and insincere beard, dark hair, short and very thin. The lack of a right eye and general demeanor made him look much older. Think a young one eyed Richard, although he still had his teeth. His left eye was shut and right wide open showing only a pink veined socket. Really creepy seeing a pink veined socket where an eye usually is. He had a big wad of gauze taped to his forehead, likely from the last time he stole End Dust at a store and passed out in the bathroom. Perhaps they threw him out of Wallmart across the street.

No comes the real moral problem for me. I'm in good Samaritan mode and want to help this man. He is not breathing, I mean really not breathing, I checked. As I shake him and yell to try to rouse this man before calling 911 and starting CPR, it occurs to me that perhaps this is for the best. I mean this is self induced and if life is so bad you need to get high on End Dust in handicapped stall of Target ...

Fortunately our worthy young man awoke with a start. I do mean start, his limbs thrashed out. Having a son like Andrew prepares one for thrashing out limbs. My hands had him by the shoulders and just flexing my elbows let me block with my arms. It also helped that he is perhaps five six and a hundred and twenty pounds. Relieved that he was breathing again we commenced to converse. It amounted to him denying the obvious.

"Are you OK?" I asked.

"Huh?" Was the well considered response.

I decided to bring him up to speed. "You passed out from inhaling Dust Off."

"No, I didn't!" His one eye darting about.

"The can is on the floor and you passed out." As I left, my job here was done. He lived and I could go home.

"No, I didn't!" He yelled at my back.

"You're an idiot and a liar." My parting comments may not have been those of a true Samaritan. I did try to get him a good meal and a place for the night. I told the clerk to all security to the bathroom now, they had a man passed out in the stall from inhaling Dust Off. Perhaps he will spend a warm night in a police cell and get a meal, or at least a sandwich.

On the way home I realized how blessed I am. I will not have someone call me tonight or any other night to tell me my child has passed out in a bathroom from drug use. My children love life and live it well. They do not look up to curse God and die, but then fight to live.

Merry Christmas, Happy New Year and Farewell to 2013

With all the hype this year about ObamaCare, we thought it only fitting that we should jump on the Obamanable bandwagon to officially welcome everyone into the new year of the Obamanation.  In keeping with the theme, we are reminiscent, this year, about our own most abominable moments. (We can't blame the President for everything!)  And, hey, you're in luck - this one is 904 pages shorter!  So with apologies to all the Obama defenders out there, we bring you:

The Rayomi Cope Family

Most Obamanable Moments in 2013

·     Alright, let's talk about toilets - again.  As I am typing this, we are anxiously awaiting the arrival of the Roto-Rooter man.  Apparently, a ShopVac doesn't remove EVERYTHING from a clogged toilet.  When said clogs advance into the main pipe, toilets, showers, and bathtubs all back up and flood the hallway, and nothing much can be done other than calling a professional, opening up the wallet, and praying that it won't cost all our hard-earned Christmas dollars to get our pipes and drains working again.  There are times when even Ray, the "seasoned sewer specialist", can't pull this rabbit out of a hat.  Or the toilet, as the case may be.  There was a time this year while on a shopping date, Ray received a call from the sitter, went home to fix a flood, and was on his way back before Naomi even noticed he was gone.  Obviously, we're not newlyweds, but it does go to show how much Ray has picked up over the years about the quick care of clogged commodes!

·        Of course not all of 2013 was Obamanable!  There were some highlights, one of which was the addition of Ethan Unklesbay to the family.  Rachel and Ethan were married on August 23rd in the Timpanogos Temple and had a lovely reception that evening where they danced the night away - that is, until Rachel started her honeymoon early by heaving the entire contents of her wedding luncheon into the ladies' room loo.  Unfortunately, she was unable to cut the cake, throw her bouquet, or enjoy the sparkler farewell we had planned for her, but she was lucky enough to have the undivided attention of her new groom by her side all night, as she broke the wedding night ice by continuing to toss her cookies for the next 24 hours!  Lest you feel sorry for Ethan -  think nothing of it, since she reciprocated her attention on him the next evening in the emergency room while he was receiving the care of medical professionals with a life-giving IV tube in his arm.  Aaah, young love!  This was a honeymoon they will never forget!  (And for all you BYU hecklers out there, we should also mention that Rachel DID get her bachelor's degree in history one whole week before getting her MRS degree!  So there!)

·       While planning the wedding festivities, Naomi sorta made this "deal with the devil".  Ray being the devil, that is.  Shopping for mason jars at Smith & Edwards one day proved to be more than Ray could stand.  He decided to meander toward the guns & ammo dept. to occupy his time.  Bad idea.  Or, to quote a famous line from an Indiana Jones movie, "He chose poorly".  By the time they both left the store, Ray had purchased a $700 pistol under the condition that he would never again complain about a single thing Naomi bought for the wedding.  In other words, all financial discipline was now gone on both sides.  Whenever a light bulb went "Ding!" over Naomi's head with a new (expensive) idea, Ray quietly got out his new gun, took it apart, and stroked it fondly.  And his wife pretty much got to throw the reception of her dreams.  Considering the arguments it avoided, Ray believes this was the best deal he has ever made.

·      Andrew has also caught the shopping bug!  His latest thrill in life is going to Dick's Market, where he scampers like a penguin into the store BY HIMSELF, and proceeds to purchase a small package of Swedish Fish BY HIMSELF!  He is quite pleased with his unsupervised shopping sprees in the store and giggles the whole time.  The tough part, for him, is waiting in line without losing his cool. He tries really hard to be patient because, otherwise, he loses his candy.  Worst-case scenario is a slow moving, old lady in front of him who reaches into her purse, gropes around, and finally pulls out a stack of coupons.  NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!  "Security to Checkstand 1, Security to Checkstand 1, please."  We are happy to report, there have been no incidents of injuries yet.

·    Ray thinks Naomi has a shoe fettish, because she buys new footwear every other week.  In reality, Churchill, the behaviorally-challenged Bassett Hound, has a serious shoe fettish.  But only with Naomi's shoes! And only the right foot!  The other members of the household seem to be spared, while Churchill's mistress is constantly finding her new right boots, sandals, or dress shoes in pieces on the floor.  Andrew doesn't help.  He tends to "hide" the shoes in places where the dog has full access.  We are considering dressing up the neighbor kids like orphans and sending them door-to-door, begging for right shoes (size 8) for their poor, one-legged  foster mother, who can't go door-to-door herself, because she is barefoot.  Think it'll work?

·      Remember "The Addams Family"?  Well, Uncle Fester is living at our house.  In support of his sister, Margaret, and her struggle with cancer, Ray has shaved his head.  Not his best look, but we admire his motives.  The large roll of fat on the back of his head, especially, reminds Naomi of the Addams Family character and makes her want to make him a fur collar for around his neck and stick a light bulb in his mouth.  The good thing is, the roll is getting smaller.  Ray, upon realizing that he was just a scone or two away from 300 lbs., has joined Weight Watchers with his wife and the two are starting to shrink out of their clothes.  In no time, he'll look less like Fester and more like Mr. Clean!  (Naomi thinks Mr. Clean is pretty hot. 'Specially when he's cleaning!)

·       We weren't going to include this story, but I'm sorry, it has to go in for posterity.  Ray calls it "the poo and spew story".  That's a clue to what's coming, so if you're not up for it, I suggest you stop reading immediately.

While preparing to take a trip to St. George for a family wedding, Ray took his son to Walmart to get the oil changed in the truck.  Sadly, he left his wallet at home, and called his doting wife to bring it to him.  Andrew had some trouble waiting, however, and by the time Naomi arrived to save the day, the child had dropped a pile on the sidewalk outside the door (while Ray was distracted with other things) and threw his soiled underwear into the truckbed.  A large, bald, tattooed man walked up to Ray, handing him a large wad of paper towels without saying a word.  Don't think I've seen my husband that frustrated in quite some time.

During the drive to St. George, Ray was thanked for not killing his son by having peanut butter routinely applied into his ear with Andrew's finger.  At one point, after we stopped for some food, Andrew was holding Ray's large drink for him while Ray went back into the store for some ice cream.  On the way out, he noticed his son putting the lid BACK onto his cup.  He decided it would be a good idea to investigate.  Again, to quote an Indiana Jones movie, "He chose wisely".  Andrew had vomited his lunch into Ray's soda and was trying to put the lid back on so he wouldn't notice.  As Ray expressed his irritation to his sweet wife, she expressed her sincere condolences by letting out a good, hearty laugh.  Later in the car, Naomi broke out the brownies and Andrew continued his ritual of inserting his finger into Ray's ear - only with chocolate frosting this time.

Ray repaid Naomi's lack of sympathy by giving her the opportunity of cleaning up the mess after we arrived at the hotel when Andrew shared the rest of his lunch with the bathroom wall and floor.  In case you're wondering, he wasn't sick.  This kind of thing happens a lot, I'm afraid.

Recently, while explaining Andrew's bulemic tendencies to a gastroenterologist, the doctor looked at us and asked, "So, is this a problem?"

Wait . . .  WHAT?

And how was YOUR year?  We hope it was filled with love and laughter, as ours was!  And may 2014 be filled with FEW Obamanable stories, NO need for ObamaCare, and MANY, MANY blessings to come!

With very merry Christmas wishes from our home to yours!

Ray, Naomi, Andrew, Churchill, & The Unklesbays