Hey, you, is anybody out there???

I had a few funny tidbits that I knew I needed to put up on the dusty olde blog. In no particular order:

Tyler just asked me 'What is that gorgeous smell?' This kid notices smells like nobody's business. Yesterday, he came in and saw the banner I had been sewing for my shop. He said 'That's beautiful, Mom. If I had money I would buy it.' I said, 'Oh, Tyler that is so sweet.' Then he said, 'Well, I don't really want to buy it, I just said that to make you happy.'

Earlier this week, we went to the thrift store. We were cruising through the housewares department with James trailing along behind. I heard him mumble something about 'what is this, oh, it comes off' but I kind tuned him out because shopping with three kids and all. Next thing you know, he comes up to me and says 'I didn't know there was something in it, and it smells terrible.' One whiff and I flashed back to the retirement home. It was the overbearing smell of old man cologne. Ugggggggghh!!! I asked him what he had gotten himself into and he showed me a ceramic pistol. It was an old Avon bottle, still full of cologne the same age as me. From the smell of it, I reckon he splashed himself generously and we carried on for the remainder of the trip holding our noses and teasing 'Grandpa' for his cologne.

And in other news, we had the awesome opportunity to go and visit Grandma last week. The kids and I flew down with my parents and got to see Grandma, along with Aunts and an Uncle the kids had yet to meet. It was lots of fun! One thing we did a lot of was gecko hunting. Here are the statistics for gecko hunting: out of every 47 geckos you look at, 45 of them will run away instantly. The remaining two will taunt you with their googly side eye and smirk as you painstakingly edge closer. When you are near enough to strike, they hightail it for the nearest bush. You lunge, and 9 times out of 10, all you come up with is a handful of mulch. Statistically, it is possible to catch 1 out of every 74 geckos, roughly. I am happy to say I caught about 10 geckos, 4 tree frogs and a giant moth while there. Also, this happened:

Tyler and I were gecko hunting. Every day we were in Florida it was about 100 degrees with high humidity. It was like someone turned the thermostat up to the "Hades" setting and called it a day. And for that I say, thank God for air conditioning! So imagine gecko hunting in that kind of heat, missing 9 out of 10 geckos with a boy who is getting increasingly frustrated with not catching any geckos. The game becomes a high stakes game of catch-the-gecko-before-heat-stroke-sets-in. Not gonna lie. I was beseeching the Almightly God, begging Him to please, please, please let us catch a gecko so we can go back in the air conditioning! It was at once such point that we made a last ditch effort to roust out an unsuspecting gecko. There is a little alcove area in the community center building that has a few palm trees and some grasses. Tyler spotted a gecko and was hot on its tail. I stood perfectly still so as not to disturb the gecko and waited. All of a sudden, there was a crash in the ornamental grass near my feet. I knew that was not a gecko, but what? I leaned over, quietly, to peer into the grass. I couldn't see it. I stared intently, quietly, still hoping that a miracle would happen and we would go home with a gecko. Lo and behold, a hefty bull frog lunged out of the grass and hit my leg. I screamed. It jumped. Tyler squealed, and thus ensued the most ridiculous game of keep-the-frog-from-going-back-in-the-grass while Tyler chased it around. I hopped around doing a jig while Tyler chased the frog around the alcove. The frog was terrified, and rightly so as he had a 5 year old 'with too much love to share' chasing him. (that phrase courtesy of Uncle Ron) Tyler finally, triumphantly caught the frog and held it high. It was at that point that I turned to see two residents looking out the window of the pool at us. I should have taken a bow or something, but instead, the entertainment committee packed up the bull frog and left. I do believe the bull frog survived the ordeal, but probably with more than a touch of PTSD.

And last but not least in this brain dump of a post, it has long been on my list to see an armadillo. I looked and looked last time I was there, but no dice. This time, same thing. Looked and looked, but no armadillo. On the way back to the airport, I saw a dead one on the road. It was kind of disappointing and I was wondering aloud if I could actually count it since it was dead and James, from the back seat, declares "Mom, it counts. You never said if you wanted to see a LIVE armadillo. You just said you wanted to see one." He has a point, but I am still routing for seeing a live one someday.