Father's Day

I've written before about all the reasons my kids think their daddy is a good daddy. Today, I want to add a reason of my own: He is always thrilled to welcome another addition to our family. Our sixth member will join us early in 2008, and no one is happier than Jeremy.

A Brave Boy

One minute, I stood watching my son's brown hair flop while his daddy pushed him in the swing. The next minute, he was flying through the air, twisting 180 degrees before landing flat on his back.

My husband reached him first. I sprinted from the deck, screaming, "Don't move him!" But our little guy was already standing up. He rested his head on my left shoulder, his usual refuge. Between sobs he was saying, "Can I get back on now? Can I get back on now?"

for though a righteous man falls seven times, he rises again ... Proverbs 24:16a

A Hilarious Waste of Time

A pool of water flowing from our freezer welcomed us home tonight. Inside the freezer I found some very cold juice hiding in our popsicle molds and some mushy green veggies pretending to be frozen broccoli. I tucked Ali, Jair, and J.D. in bed and started cooking thawed meat. While I waited for the chicken to finish baking, I went to shut down the computer and thought I'd check on my favorite blog (my favorite blog not written by someone I know, that is): Amy's Humble Musings.

A comment there lead me to a hilarious web page, The Dialectizer. It translates any web page into the dialect you select. Here's an example of Meatball Minutes in Elmer Fudd dialect:

A Biwthday Wesson
Yes, I shouwd have known bettew. No, I wasn't thinking cweawwy when I said he wouwdn't touch it. De mowaw of the stowy? Nevew set a fwaming object in fwont of a one-yeaw-owd who missed his nap.

Here we are in Redneck:

Scurryin'
Mah husbin read t'me last night fum Dallas Willard's Th' Great Omisshun. This hyar pareegraph exposed mah indless chase of thet phantom day as th' sin it is: "Menny fine-meanin' varmints ... kinnot succeed in bein' kind on account o' they is too rushed t'git thin's done ..."

And here is J.D.'s birthday as it would be described by a Swedish Chef:

J.D.'s Furst Burthdey
J.D. is tuu yuoong tu celebrete-a hees burthdey veet oooor femeely's tredeeshunel breekffest in bed. Bork bork bork! Insteed, ve-a sung "Heppy Burthdey" tu heem furst theeng in zee murneeng. Immedeeetely Elee und Jeur vunted tu knoo, "Cun he-a velk noo?" und "Vhy isn't he-a telkeeng, Mummy?" Zeey tuuk me-a leeterelly vhee I seeed he-a vuoold velk und telk "vhee he-a is oone-a."

The timer is beeping for the chicken, so that's all for now, folks!