I promise there is a point to this, and we will get there sometime......
Last week, my trusty Father (GPH), was head chauffeur, toting my oldest nephew to and from a super neat space camp, requiring them to traverse Kansas City highways during both morning and afternoon rush hours. If you do it right, it's not bad,but when you do it wrong, you wind up as a talking point for GPH.
When asked what the main difference between riding with Mimi and GPH, Nephew replied that riding with Mimi was, "Are you warm/cool enough? Do you need a snack/drink? What about a new toy?", and riding with GPH is all, " Don't go fast or follow too close!".
Which is true. I think Mom (Mimi) is still working out the trauma of her Gege making her brother and sisters sit on the curb to eat drive-thru hamburgers.
I love my Mother, a lot. She is about the greatest Mimi ever.
This weekend she and GPH came up, for a number of reasons, and they brought her precious babies presents. She brought them......cap guns. The real kind, with the paper rolls of caps. And, then she told them that they could hit them with a hammer when they got tired of shooting each other- which was about as soon as they could find a hammer. When that got old, they figured out how to pop them between their fingers and thumb ( it only burns a little!)
Tonight, Batman wanted to know if we could see what happened when we set a cap strip on fire. Being the Mom that I am, I shut that down pretty quick. No explosions here! Only responsible adults here!! Even if it does sound pretty cool...
So, then, Batman says...." Let me get my journal, we can call it an experiment! It's SCIENCE, after all!!"
This boy should be lawyer, with that kind of argument.
Me: "Dude, we can't blow up the house, record it our journals and call it science."
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