Sunday happenings . . . . continued.

I knew I would have more to add . . . . I know, I always do! (shut up, Chris)

Yesterday afternoon we were planning on trying to tie-dye peace signs on shirts ('cause that is how we hippies roll). 'Trying' would be the operative word. In fact, it took the two of us - both reasonably intelligent people - 45 minutes to figure it out. And that was WITH a video tutorial. Not mentioning names (but it rhymes with Rich), someone had been folding the shirts wrong. Oh yeah - there was also the minor fact that it's easier to do when the shirt is already wet - which makes using the water soluble fabric marking pen difficult to work with. Just sayin'. We FINALLY got it figured out - then there was no stopping us! We did five peace sign shirts, a pair of pillow cases (we had LOTS of extra orange dye left), and an extra shirt for Andrew.  Not to mention the tie-dying (camo!) we did on Saturday night with our closeted hippie friends.
Obviously, we like to tie-dye. Not that the haphazard designs we have been doing aren't cool, but there is much more to the tie-dye world! We are only just getting our feet wet! Well, actually it's more getting our hands wet but that isn't the point. The point is, we need to learn more.
I am kind of thinking that Michael's doesn't have too many classes on how to tie dye. And considering we live in Rochester and not Hippie meccas like Austin, Texas or Portland, Oregon . . . . . I need a book. Yes, hippies read. So I said to Rich, "Innocent enough, right? What could go wrong with that comment?
Andrew could go wrong with that.
He thought I said, "We really should get a book about patterns for tie dye SHOES" and started chanting .....
"Tie dye shoes! Tie dye shoes! Tie dye shoes!"
Seriously.

Did it end there? Of course not - otherwise I wouldn't have this silly blog!
At dinner Timmy decided that his chicken tenders were FINALLY cool enough to eat. And by cool, I mean stone cold - I have no idea why we bother cooking things for him. We, of course, were 3/4 done with our dinner so we have plenty of time to talk to each other. PLENTY of time. As a side note, we will be holding Tim and Sofia's wedding reception soon. They eat at the same pace and we want to live long enough to make it through the festivities - and we want grandchildren before we are 80.
Back to Timmy's fine dining . . . . so he starts to eat but realizes that he doesn't have ranch. The horror! Neither of my kids can have a meal without ranch of ketchup (usually both). When they saw their lovely uncle empty a bag of potato chips into a bowl, douse it with ketchup, and eat it like cereal their eyes lit up. I, on the other hand, wanted to kill my parent's youngest child. (like how I did that - deflected all genetic factors right to my mom and dad!)
Timmy also has the habit of not watching what he is doing. That may come as a shock to some of you, but really - it's true! He wasn't watching the ranch come out of the bottle and almost ended up with a lake of ranch on his plate - all for a whopping four chicken tenders. Rich "yelled" at him and told him to start paying more attention. While Rich was talking to him, Timmy was laughing. Another shocker, I know. So Rich asked him to stop laughing so he could listen to what was being said.
Big mistake - remember, you need to bring your A game with these kids. All.of.the.time.
"But dad! My mouth can't stop smiling!"
And that folks was the end of that "lecture". I couldn't even look at Rich - I had my head on the table to hide the tears of laughter that we literally rolling down my cheeks.

Maybe I should install those video cameras . . . . just to really prove that this is my life.