This won't end well

Last week, I foolishly pointed out to the boys that a house at the edge of our neighborhood was for sale. The same house that had two disused quarter pipe skateboard ramps in the back yard. A plan was hatched to call the real estate agent and ask if they could have them. Mr. Fabulous calls the realtor and immediately gets confused on the phone, in the end the realtor agreed to call the homeowner and ask for them. They get the okay 5 minutes later. I begin regretting pointing this out. This is a weeknight, the little ones are in the process of eating and starting their wind down procedures. No way are we going to get them that night....

Graphic Representation of my decision making paradigm

So, we load up in the Dad Van and go to check them out. There is a small one. It is 24" tall maybe and 3-4 feet across. This is perfect and just what I wanted to find. It is a bit rotten and will need reworking a bit. We work together and wrestle it through a narrow gate and down some sketchy stairs. We then go back to check out Ramp #2. It is large. Four feet tall, 5 feet across and 8 feet deep. Why so deep? There is a platform on the top for them to drop in from. HUGE. The lack of broken bones in our house is a problem this will solve.

This may have been fueled by unrealized dreams of my youth

It wasn't rotten so that excuse for not getting it was out. It was however too big for them to help move and it had no chance of fitting in the Dad Van. These kids are smart. They know my weaknesses. They ask for me to call Uncle Brett. All of you have a best friend that when you are with, things get more interesting and you can count on everything you do together turning into a story. Your Uncle Brett has nothing on me and my bff. He is by no means an uncle but they called him that and offered ice cream. I later found out that he only came to make my life harder through the acquisition of this ramp. His only question to me at the time was if he needed a truck and when they wanted to do it. they obviously wanted to do it immediately as it was now dark out. And why would he need a truck? I have a truck.

About my truck. It is glorious. That is all you need to know. Also it may be useful to know that its brakes are suspect at best. The clutch and first gear are very tired. Both of those things are reasonable considered its a 1964 model. I only drive it twice a year anyway. So the battery is dead obviously.

Actual picture of my beautiful somewhat functional truck

My kryptonite bff is now at my house, my kids are chomping at the bit to go, Supermodel is looking out the window only shaking her head (foreshadowing), and I have a dead truck. Lets insert a map here:

Cartographer in the making. ROAD OF DEATH should be noted. Also note the location of ramp in relation to said road and the steep hills leading to it.

There are large hills leading away from the home. So, we roll start the truck? This works if you remember to turn on the ignition before you roll down the hill. My bad. I had to turn at approximately 1000 mph to avoid certain death. Figure 2.

These grey dots do nothing to give a sense of sheer panic when you hit the usually quite stiff brake pedal and nothing happens. 

I now have a dead truck on the side of the road at night. We are now worse off than before we started. We now walk home to get a second car to jump the truck off with. It works like a champ. Take the road that is less scary to the house with the ramp and back into the drive way. I was thinking up until this point. I then turn off the truck. In my defense, I am a dummy. Figure 3

See all that red? New shorts would be required after this second leg of the trip

 The other three then walk to where I am with the truck. We then man handle this thing over a chain link fence and down a drop off because this ramp is too big to go through tiny gate and down stairs of death. We eventually get the thing into the back of the truck. I then have to walk back to where the car with the jumper cables was left and bring it to join the truck. I then can start the process in reverse. Uncle Brett agrees to drive the car back. Sitting in the now running truck alone with my thoughts, I know that nearly the entire way is uphill and will have to get up a head of steam somewhere early on in the return trip. I choose the lower road as there is a bit of down hill before I have to go straight up to The HOME. I attempt this in first gear. I don't even make it up the first hill. I have to roll back down, perilously close to THE ROAD OF DEATH, and retry in second gear. This works and I make it to the green portion of the map and floor it. I go around the corner at full throttle, up the hill to our circle, make the left at a kajillion mph and then into my driveway and carport at mock 2.

That not making it up that first hill caused me to possibly overcompensate for the rest of the journey. 

The ramp then gets unloaded, the boys go in and get in there pi's and go to bed dreaming of sweet tricks. I am a hero. All is well. Another job well done (the hard way) by Mr. Brett and myself.

Fathers day is just around the corner. 

The next morning....
I take the little ones to their school and head off to teach my classes. I get a text message that simply says "call." Anyone who has ever gotten this text message knows that it is rarely the harbinger of hope. Mr. Fabulous had 30 minutes to kill before leaving for school so, he decided to try out the big ramp.  After getting out of the shower The Supermodel heard a rapping, tapping on her chamber door.

We have an streak going on "days since and ER trip."    
Nevermore....

His top lip was split open and attached semi-permantly to his orthodontic appliance. He got his lip caught on his braces and had to have his mother extricate it. No bassoon for a week but no ER trip either.

If you want to come do some sweet tricks with them though, bring your board.

UPDATE: I MEANT TO ADD THAT IT WAS ALSO SCHOOL PICTURE DAY

its football season

I want to whine. I have a fever and am hot but cold. Tired but can't sleep. None of this bothers me as much as the greatest torment of my life. I am hungry but can't eat. Everything sounds good. I want wings and pizza with everything on it. Cheese fries no no chili cheese fries. My brain is on a slow simmer up there and has defaulted to my most base desires: lipids and carbs but mostly lipids and not the dessert kind.

This is not why I rolled over and fired up the blog. Last night football season started at the school where I teach. The Fox has been excited about this since the one game she went to last year. "We will rock you" by Queen is The Flootball Song. Yes Flootball. No pronounced Float but rather just stick and "l" sound in there.

We happen to have a copy of the song in the car and she and her little brother enjoy fist pumping to the beat on the way to school every day. I repeat: every day.

Dino in his car seat but way less excited

So yesterday...

Pick up Wilson and Mr Fabulous (4:30). Stop at The Home and pack bags and change into appropriate clothing. To be honest, I think I was sick at this point and may have laid down for a moment. Stop on way to get little ones and acquire Cheeseburger ketchup only and spicey chicken sandwich and enough fries to make Idaho proud. There was a kids meal with chocolate milk maybe and something for me which I promptly spilt down my shirt as we were exiting the drive through. I do believe however that it was the bucket of Coca Cola that kept me alive.

Get to little ones. Load them up on alternating rows in The Dad Van with a elder child there to assist with the eating of french fries and chocolate milk. I am a terrible parent. Fries??? Stop judging me you no children having people. Desperate times and all that. At some point The Dino grabs the box of fries and throws it across the car. My fries spilt everywhere as well. At the end of the night, I remotely open my doors, thanks honda, and am knocked down by the smell of fast food from 40 feet. Seriously.

competition to be Gloria and apparently my copilots.

We get to the game and have a blast. It was totally worth it. I love my kids. You need to picture this. My schools stadium sits in a sort of valley? hole? whatever. At one end are STEEP grassy hills. These hills have signs that say slide at your own risk. So where do I take my kids to sit? Of course there. Within short order they are all sliding down. Well not Dino.... yet. The Fox wore herself out. Badly. Covered in dirt with grass woven into her hair and covering her clothes, she refused to walk up the hill again and demanded that Mr Fabulous drag her to the top by the arms. That was not allowed. Fun was had by all and someone showed up with card board after the technical round and we were now ready for the speed round.

how cute would it have been if it looked like this?

The Twins, my nieces, came in around this point with the Coach's Wife and Coach. They were only allowed to go down with their big cousins and one loved it and the other loves big bows in her hair. I will take responsibility for at one point nt paying attention to our one+ year old baby Dino dosing off maybe and rolling down the hill? It was more of a tumble or to be completely honest a train wreck and very scary. He cried a bit and started to fall asleep so we gathered our troops and came home, bathed and went to bed without a peep. A raging success. Then The Supermodel came home. Yep, ALL BY MYSELF! No one was bleeding from any new wounds and they were asleep when she got home. I want a parade!

What it really looked like. That's the Dino

big bad wolf

June 23 was the last time I wrote? For Shame. I won't be providing you with a summer wrap up this year as I don't remember it. Age is a cruel mistress. I do remember last night.

There has been a bit of back and forth over how best to bed down the little ones at night. The Supermodel led a coup and started putting the dinosaur down in his crib but letting El Fox stay up and then be read to in MY bed. She would then fall asleep in MY bed and have to be moved into HER bed in a style not dissimilar to a cat burglar trying to return things. You all know how I feel about returning things.

I just moved her. Wait did you hear her wake up?

I have since put a stop to this and have suffered mightily for it. The dinosaur is, to be kind, needy. His sister is chatty due to genetics. This makes the process difficult. Last night, I put him in the crib after holding him and rocking him. I then go to lay with her and tell her good night. She begs every night for you to "stay with me a little while." Last night? "Go away daddy." Fine. I didn't want to snuggle anyway. The issue arose after I walked out. Apparently, he has realized that his crib is close enough to the light switch and he is tall enough to thwart our efforts as soon as we walk out.

Coast is Clear! Cue the Lights and Music

At some point last night after they fell asleep, she woke back up and called out to me from under the door. I go in and tuck her back in and she wants to have a chat about the big bad wolf under her bed. Now my parental logic is really starting to come into its own these days. She has a big stuffed fox in the bed with her. "Obviously, no monsters or big bad wolves can get you if you have a large stuffed fox near by," I explain. Her quote while giving me a hug and a kiss was "Well I am         Fox. So no big bad wolfs will get me either." She is the best. How can you not love her when she is asleep?

Photoshop skills still on point.

In other news, she has declared her costume for Halloween of her own accord. She will be Gloria the Hippo from the cartoon Madagascar. No, really. The only requirement of the costume thus far is that "you make a big belly." So be on the lookout for a Grey sweatsuit. Also, maybe a pink tutu. I am hoping for a Fantasia/Madagascar mash up. Fan-gas-car. or Mad-Tasia.

The Boyz are too busy for their own good now that they are both in middle school and getting grown. You can no longer tell Wilson and The Supermodel apart from a distance of more than 5 feet. I need him to get taller soon. His quote of the month thus far, prompted by nothing in the conversation, was given at random during dinner. "It's all about context clues." Yes son. Yes it is.

Mr. Fabulous is on his way to mastering the bassoon. I had reservations but now realize the real benefit. He will be able to play the march from The Sorcerer's Apprentice from Fantasia. I think we may have a family halloween theme with accompaniment?

The Dino will totally be her alligator. Now for the rest of us?? Suggestions Welcomed