Not Me Monday.

Good morning. At least I can say good morning. It's Monday. And to break up the monotony of today, I am posting all of the things that I really did not do. It's my humorous detailed denial of my faults and weaknesses. I hope that you will join me over on MckMama's blog to read other Not Me's.

This is not my living room at this exact moment. As a matter of fact, those are not piles of clothes that have been folded to be put away, and those are not baskets of toys, and that certainly is not coffee table covered in my computer, coffee mug, and assorted books. And my realtor certainly is not going to call me to ask to show my house today. That would never happen.

I did not wake up with a bad ear ache. And I am not putting off going to the doctor to get an antibiotic just in case my ear ache wants to clear up on it's own by a miracle.

I did not totally come unleashed this morning when one daughter couldn't find her shoes and the other misplaced her book that she is reading for school. I did not snap at them both to get in the van that we were running late. My ear ache had nothing to do with my mood and attitude. I did not make the shoeless daughter wear her sandals in the cold because she lost her shoes. Nor did I make the bookless daughter go to school and practice in the car saying that she was irresponsible and misplaced her book. That would make me a mean mother.

I most certainly did not laugh at the baby shoving handfuls of cheerios into her mouth, since it's a brand new thing that she has learned to do, and then I did not start weeping uncontrollably because she learned this new skill and is growing up way too fast.

I did not realize that my Not Me's are really not funny today, so I did not leave gratuitous pictures of a pig in a shopping cart in my previous post for you to see.

I bet you have NEVER seen anything like this before. I bet money on it.

Meet Oscar. He's a pig. See him smiling for the camera? He likes to go shopping. He likes to go shopping at my favorite store. That makes Oscar my friend. I was quite surprised that Oscar was allowed in the store. Actually, I am more surprised that Oscar's family actually got him into a shopping cart.

I was even more surprised when my daughter did this. I laughed hysterically when after the kiss she exclaimed "Nope. Not a prince."
There aren't many people that can say that they have actually kissed a pig.

We are family.

We have these little people toys that we use in our homeschool math, that you can sort by size, color, male, female, child, etc. We normally use them for patterning lessons and story telling. Today, this little family was formed. Our family. Together. United. Whole. With Daddy with us.


Rats.

It's going to happen for us, right?

A story I want put on record.

This is the story about how my darling husband almost killed himself with a bullet. But bare with me here, I swear to you, this is a funny story. This particular instance happened a number of years ago, but in the true spirit of trying to embarrass my husband, I felt the impulse to record his story here for all future generations to read.

Once upon a time, my husband, who is a hunting type fellow, decided to go out squirrel hunting (or maybe it was grouse?) . So he packed up his .22 and a couple of bullets, his pipe and some tobacco to smoke and went on his merry way.

He decided on that particular day to hunt on some property that belonged to a friend of ours. He was gone for several hours, and when he didn't shoot anything, he decided to take one last smoke and call it quits. When he was done, he put the pipe in his pocket.

Fastforward to the next day.....

My husband arose early to head to work. It was chilly that particular morning, so he grabbed his coat as he headed out the door. About halfway to work, he decided that he had better take his smoke (what a dirty nasty habit, isn't it?) So he loaded his pipe with tobacco and lit it up.

As he did, he heard a loud BANG and something hit the window. He looked down and saw his beloved pipe blown to smithereens.

Apparently, a bullet from the hunting excursion the day prior, had rolled into his pipe while it was in his pocket. And my husband unknowingly had tried to smoke it. He's lucky that he's alive. He's lucky that the bullet didn't kill anyone in traffic that day. He's lucky that he didn't get into a wreck. He's lucky that I didn't ring his little neck.

So, anyone else out there have a husband that smokes bullets and lived to tell about it? I didn't think so.