Trey-Rex

Trey has lately been skulking around the house making grunting, growling noises accompanied by dinosaur-like contortions and motions. It somehow made it into this picture.


I asked Trey a question this afternoon and he replied, "Let me think about it in my brain for a while. 'Cause I'm really good at thinking." Tonight, he stars in his first-ever school program.

Christmas party

Trey had a Christmas party at school this afternoon. He brought home a gingerbread house that he personally envisioned and assembled. Well, assembled anyway. It's pretty much consumed by now.

But it took me back to the Christmas parties we used to have at good, ol' FCA. Those were the days! I don't know if anyone ever felt this way, but I always got ripped off in the gift exchange. Every year they would pass around a hat containing slips on which was written the name of a classmate. This was top-secret, or at least was supposed to be. It was usually a secret until, O, I don't know, the first recess at which time everyone eagerly compared names. There was money to be made if someone wanted to make a trade. Anyway, we would then go out and buy a gift that had to be around $5 (someone can correct me on this if I'm wrong). I took my task seriously. I spent quite a bit of time scouring K-Mart for the perfect gift. You know, something like a purple and yellow whistling Nerf football. This was important. I also was known to spend a little more that $5 for the present. However, I inevitably ended up receiving a gift from a person who apparently did their shopping at the gas station on the way to the school party. I remember the year that I tore off the wrapping paper to reveal a plastic car with sour-smelling cologne inside. Pretty disappointing to an 8-year-old. That whole "it's more blessed to give than to receive" thing was pretty overrated to me.

We did have a fantastic time at the Christmas party, though. I still remember the time we decided to have a burn-out competition. Burn-out involves taking turns slapping each other's hands until someone finally gives up from the sheer pain of it all. David Fry and Jonathan Bailey both ended up with broken blood vessels one year. A great time was had by all.

Messed-up

Have I ever told you about my "geographic tongue" disorder? I really must sometime. Fascinating.

Closet Doritos Fan

Kassady was literally caught red-handed.

WWF comes to Nampa

Trey is really into wrestling and boxing these days. I made the mistake of letting him play the old arcade game "Pit Fighter" at a pizza place in town and since then it's all he wants to do. Of course, his passion for ninjas and G.I. Joes probably help feed his penchant for violence*. I, too, enjoy a good tussle (just ask Jeff Watson or Sterling Houchens about our rumbles in the makeshift wrestling ring, which doubled as the kindergarten classroom, at FCA) so Trey has found a sparring partner. I used to do this with my Dad until I was around 10 or so. During one of our matches I accidentally poked him in the eye resulting in an unplanned trip to the Frankfort Hospital. We never wrestled since. True story. But I digress.

Trey is turning into quite a fighter. In fact, he's impatiently waiting for me to do it here in a few minutes. He has created his own character names. Now, Kassady enjoys piling on whoever happens to be on the bottom. For some reason, Lori is the only family member who doesn't get into the whole WWF scene. Her loss.

*Disclaimer: not real violence such as shooting people, clubbing, mugging, or football.