Wick and I spent the weekend at Jeana's, starting Thursday night. Our son Ron and wife Nikky came from near Houston,and son Scott and family came Sat. along with some cousins. There were 29 of us, I think, and it was great.
Jeana's Scott came in from work Friday and saw wonton wrappers in the refrigerator. He said, "Are you making Chinese for tomorrow?" I said yes, and he began to dance me around the kitchen, he was so excited. He is so easily pleased, and I enjoy cooking for him.
Jeana and I shopped for food Friday, while Nikky entertained the little ones in the toy department. While we were checking out, we saw a magazine cover about Gwenyth Paltrow's new baby. She named the first Apple, and this second one Moses. Jeana said she thought that Adam would have gone better with Apple; I said I thought she should have named him MacIntosh (see Jeana's entry about Adam and Eve getting involved with the apple).
On our way to Jeana's Thursday, we stopped at Flying J truck stop to get deisel and fill the propane tank. The propane guy always makes us get out of the RV, because he says it could blow up while he is filling the tank. (!) So I was standing between the propane tank and the deisel pumps, holding Frankie and hoping the RV wouldn't blow up, when a big burly truck driver climbed down out of his 18 wheeler and approached me.
"Is that a Pomeranian?" he asked.
I said yes.
He said," My wife has one of those. Every time she goes out to take a ____, her ___ gets all ______ and I have to scrub her ___ before she can get back into the truck."
It took me a few seconds to realize that he was talking about the Pomeranian, and not his wife.
Jeana's oven caught on fire Friday while we were cooking a brisket for supper. The heating element made a loud strange electrical noise, and smoke started coming out into the kitchen. Her daddy put the fire out with a water pistol, and managed to save the brisket without any damage. Jeana stood by with a fire extinguisher while he shut off the breaker. Dawson was just worried about whether or not we had damaged his gun while putting out the fire.
There were about 35 of us at my mother's Easter Sunday. The guys hid eggs for the smallest ones, then did a more difficult hiding of the eggs for the older kids. My mother puts candy inside those plastic eggs, about a bushel basket of them, and usually about 3-4 pieces in each egg. So while the babies were hunting their eggs, "someone" sneaked the chocolate malted eggs out of the remaining plastic eggs, on the theory that no one would ever know there had been 3 pieces instead of two in each egg. Well, at least she was willing to share with me ;)