the elephant in the room

For reasons that only make sense if you are two years old, Greggory used the Elefun Game for target pee-practice while he was playing in our unfinished basement downstairs with the other children. I didn't get the memo, but apparently an Elefun Game makes quite a handy toilet in case of an emergency. (Emergencies can include laziness in not wanting to use the upstairs bathroom). I guess I can kind of see his point of view. They are both...shiny? with a hole in the middle?

I was less than pleased on the matter as I carried the dripping Elefun Game to the garbage. Greggory followed me upstairs, telling me that I needed to get that "thing, er rather, fing" out of the garbage and I reminded him that it was now broken because he had just peed on it.

He insisted that he hadn't peed on it, but in it so it would be fine.

On my wall, I have a sign with a quote by President Hinckley reading, Life is to be enjoyed, not just endured.

I wonder if he was including two-year-olds in that statement?

update on the dead meat

As for all you blogger-naggers out there, don't complain, I've been a little busy, sheesh...

Onto the post:

My loving father called me the other day wanting to know if I wanted any of the chicken that was, um, harvested. Heck yeah! I told him right away.

He said I could even have it for free. Okay, I said a little more haltingly, thinking there must be a catch.

He said I could have as much as I wanted--I just had to come down and get it. Hmm. My suspicions were increasing with every statement.

Here it was: I only had to come down and help break their necks, pull off all their feathers, and then clean their guts out. That's it. The grand stipulation.

Oh. I thought they had already done that? Well, it turns out that there were a few chickens left--as in thirty--that they hadn't quite gotten to yet. I thought about this. Could I really do this? I mean, my great-grandmothers did this practically on a daily basis for their dinner. I wasn't really a pure-bred 21st century girl was I? Maybe if I wore long latex gloves and a face mask and closed my eyes it wouldn't be so bad. Besides, it would just be a few hours of pure torture for ten organic, hormone free, preservative free, fresh chicken. For Free.

I would do it. I wouldn't kill them, but I could clean them out. (Remember, Cheapskates go above and beyond.)

Dad called me back a few hours later. I wouldn't need to come down after all. The chickens were already headed to a local butcher where he would do all the dirty work and present a store-worthy packaged chicken for the fee of $3 a chicken.

Well, great!! That's a bargain, if you ask me!!!