WARNING! Adult Content!

So we were playing the "ha ha" game yesterday. That's the one where everyone lays on the floor and rests their head on the stomach of someone else. Then the hilarity ensues. The first person goes "ha" (and the heads start bobbing). The next person goes "ha ha"...you get the idea. Usually the group just starts laughing and bobbing up and down at that point. That was about how far we got before we were all laughing ourselves silly.

Then Nate makes a stinker.

Of course, in normal families, this would stop the laughter. Not in ours. It amplified it. Then Mommy says "Nate has the buns of doom." And of course, the "jokes" continued. We use the word "chones" in our household to refer to undies, so I said "Nate: Attack of the Chones." Then Riley chimed in, "He's Count Doodoo." It finally degenerated into "Nate is Darth Skidius, Evil Sith Lord."

Nate of course couldn't get enough of it and tried in vain to come up with his own monikers, most of which were things like "Yeah! I'm Count Doodoo!"

Of course, trying to keep it high-brow, as we drove around looking at Christmas lights last night, I decided to "have a talk" to the family and discuss how it may be better and more appropriate if we start to talk "nice" and remove references to "body functions" from our dialogue.

All four kids were put to sleep by this. I heard snoring. I did.

Why I Love Idaho #9

I decided for family night on Monday to take the kids and the wife and do a little picnic at Table Rock, on the north end of Boise. We grabbed a bucket of chicken from the Colonel and headed up Table Rock Road through some really gorgeous neighborhoods.

After we got there, we ate chicken, drank Capri Suns and looked out over the Treasure Valley's panorama. Then Dad decided to take the kids for a little hike. Nathan was reticent, but we all insisted it would be fun.

We got down on a dirt path that rings the Table Rock mesa and Nate was enjoying it. Having walked the short trail once before, I took Lauren in my arms and led the way.

Good thing.

About three-fourths of the way through our "hike" I encountered a snake on the path. The big kids freaked out and started crying. I looked for a rattle and told the kids to get behind me.

Long story short: one snake; two crying kids; an upset wife; an oblivious 18-month old and a Dad who's seen enough for one Monday evening...