It seems that the Seagulls and Carp may have run them off.
This is Kort with our cute neighbor girl.
Kort finds Carp feeding to be ever so much more delight-some than duck feeding, but I can't say that I agree.
On another note, nothing quite says summer like painted faces and Kool-aid hair streaks, yes?
I especially enjoyed this part...where I got to sit in the shade and watch the kids play in a little stream. Can you believe this view? So lovely...
And then some scruffy little otter-like creature showed up on the far bank, stuffed his mouth full of grass, and then hauled his little cookies across the stream to "feather (or grass, in this case) his little nest."
I decided to take an updated shot of Baby Bob. (Well, and me...as we are sort of inseparable at the moment.) Here he is. 32 weeks baby! 8 weekes to go...how will I get it all done in time?
When we got home, I was hot and very tired. I told Kort he could have a drink and watch PBS kids for a bit while I rested... so, I got him set up and went and collapsed on the bed. Not even 10 minutes later, this is what went down:
KORT: (Hollering from his banana chair in the living room) "Mooooooooooooooom!!!!"
ME: (Hollering back, hoping that my voice can carry through a closed bedroom door and the humming of the swamp cooler in the hallway.) "Please come to my room to talk to me!"
KORT: "Moooooooooooooooom!"
ME: (repeat) "Please come to my room to talk to me!"
(Silence for 5 minutes...thank heaven. He might have given up...but no.)
KORT: "Mooooooooom!"
ME: (shouting at my closed door) Kortland. James. Dugovic! You get off your rear end and come in here if you want to talk to me!"
KORT: "WHAT?!"
ME: "Ug!"
(and yes, I know how "lazy American" this next part sounds, but in my defense, I was hot, tired, and rather pregnant, so cut me a little slack, okay?)
I realize that Kort has his cell phone in his pocket, so, rather than hoist my tired bones up out of bed and walk the whole 10 feet down the hallway to talk to him...I call him on his phone. (Yes, you heard me right. I CALLED HIM ON HIS CELL PHONE, WITH THE USE OF MY CELL PHONE from my bedroom 10 feet away. It's not something I'm proud of.)
KORT: "Hello?"
ME: "Kortland, you come into my room if you want to talk to me. I'm old and you're young, and I'm tired and you're not, so don't holler at me from your chair and make me get out of my bed...okay?"
KORT: "Well...Moooom..."
ME: "WHAT?"
KORT: "Can you just come in here and take my juice can from me? I'm done drinking it."
A world class butt-chewing (via cell phone conversation between two people currently dwelling under the same roof) ensues.
Can somebody please tell me how impressed you are that he is still able to sit down?
(And no, we don't believe in spanking...but still...)
How did I raise such a lazy kid?
Honestly!?
How?!
Oh right...raise him as an "only child" for some 7 odd years...that oughta do it.
Now, don't get me wrong, he is also a kind, happy, fun, selfless, loving, friendly little boy. A boy who loves his Mama better than any Mama could ever hope to be loved. And he serves his family on a regular basis. This needs to be said, but hollering for 5 minutes for me to get out of bed, take his juice can from his hand, and set it on the kitchen counter? That's just unreal.
I'm thinking this means that I have been an awesomely subservient mom... (yay me!) and I think this also means that some pretty gnarly "reality checks" will be waiting for Kort as Baby Bob, oh, I don't know, NURSES for 45 minutes straight every hour and a half for the first 3 months of his life!!!
Ha! Oh well. Something tells me that this will be beneficial to his character.
Operation Termination of Only Childhood: Commence!
