All Things Anne

Last time he was home, Dad gave Beth permission to find us older kids wives and husband, and how he did it was this: He told Beth by the time she was 18 he may have to charge for coffee drinking because there would be so many coffee drinkers.
“Hopefully by then all the older kids will be married and moved out!” Beth said.
“Well I guess you’ll just have to help them!” Dad said, thereby giving her permission to find us spouses. She also “found” spouses for the boys, but that’s another story.

I really wonder what Dad would do if I told him Beth has found my husband, we just need to meet him. When I was ten or so, I thought (seriously, folks!) we’d go door-to-door to find spouses. I’m not kidding, I actually thought that! I told Dad once.
“We may just have to do that!” he said, but he was only joking.

Night before last Beth and I had some late-night girl talk, and she told me she found my husband, we just need to meet him. She told me all about him–he seemed to follow us around town once. She said:

• He’s a redhead
• He has a dark green Dodge pickup
• He looks handsome
• He looks like the sort of guy who would go hunting, therefore he has guns
• He’s relatively tall (compared to me, definitely! about as tall as Eric)

Sounds like a pretty good guy to me! Now we just have to figure out who he is…

Grossness alert!

For as long as I can remember, spaghetti’s nickname by the little ones, whichever one was little at the time, has been “beesketti”. Who knows, maybe I started it.

Anyway.

Last night we had spaghetti. Last night the boys were at the neighbor-across-the-street (Mr. Spartz’s). So they weren’t home when we had our spaghetti; they were going to come back and eat later (long story). We were halfway through dinner when Katie found half of a giant fly in her spaghetti! Everybody’s (well, almost everybody’s) stomachs turned, and suddenly nobody had an appetite. (I was already done.) Mom was on the phone with Dad, and she told him, and HE lost his appetite too!

Mom said Dad said everybody didn’t have to finish their spaghetti, since that grossed him out so bad. Emily wanted to dry the fly half and save it for next Thursday when Kelly N.’s sons come for guitar lessons, because one of the boys, Robbie (he doesn’t take guitar lessons from Joe…yet), likes bugs and has eaten chocolate covered crickets. Yum?
I told her not to. (Aren’t you glad, Mom? )

When the boys came home, all the girls are like “it’s bee-sketti! Katie found half a bee in it!” (it really was a fly, but bee/beesketti sounds better). The boys were hungry enough to eat a wolf, though, I think, and ate the beesketti regardless of the fear of finding the other half of the fly.

Oh, and want to know what Dad said about everyone not finishing their food and being hungry still? “I guess you’ll just have to bake yourselves a batch of cookies.”

And he was the one that said no sweets in January?

You know just how far friendship stretches when you’re rudely awakened at 3:15 am because your furry friend is throwing up on your bed.
Yeah.
Don’t remember if I’ve mentioned it before or not, but I have a bulimic cat. Sometimes she gorges herself, then throws up. Very disgusting, and especially on your bed at three am.
Fortunately it was on the edge/off the edge, so I could finish my morning’s sleep on the other side of the bed.

Oh, and I locked her out.