Sweet Sweets and a Sweetie

This is Noah. He is my cute little nephew. We wanted him to participate with us in our sugar cookie activity for the kids. But, what started out as a simple cookie frosting event, turned into...






...this. He ended up in the bathtub.

Watching this innocent turn into an icing-clad gremlin was quite funny. You may have to be a Noah-eating relative to fully enjoy the large amount of pictures and videos I am about to thrust upon you. You may even have to have Grandma or Grandpa attached somewhere to your name. But nonetheless, here is the amazing transformation;

Purple dot; Noah's 1.5 year old coordination. Green dot; Aunt Danielle's obsessive need for symmetry.

Every time I asked him to smile, he gave me lots of cheese. It was actually a job getting him to take his intense focus off of his cookie.

At one point, I egged Noah on and told him to take a taste. That's all it took. The sweet innocent got a taste, and the sugar-crazed gremlin took over. This gremlin then infected the other gremlins. It was sugar-fest all around.

One knife becomes two.

Knives abandoned. Hand plunges in.

In the end, it was two hands accompanied by lip-smacking slurps. Where are the responsible adults when all of this is happening? Behind the camera, shaking with giggles. This was really too good to miss.

Our BIG Day of Thanks

Thank you, Jeremy and Birgitta, Zach, Alaina, Celeste, and Noah, for making our day of Thanks one to be truly thankful for. We had a GREAT time. For those of you not privy to our ruckus-a-plenty, here's the BIG low-down;

Lots of playing, lazing in p-jays, lots of gabbing, lots of baking and cooking and preparing. We watched a movie in the theater room, had treats, had sickies and itchies, late nights and early mornings, and lots of laughs. We enjoyed the smell of smoking turkey, smoking ham, and smoking pork. We had a great "boot camp" workout leaving us with not so great sore muscles for the Big day. Not convinced it was the greatest Thanksgiving ever? Well, there's more. We had,

Big helpers,



Little helpers,



Big helpers wearing Big, cheesy grins and Big colors,



Big turkeys making little turkeys with lots of Big colors,



Big sillies who took off with the camera, logging 48 fabulous photos to document our Big holiday, which sadly enough,



include this one. Happily, and equally luckily, it's clean. Phew.



Funny side bar here; when Chase proudly handed me the camera with his devilish grin, he said,

"Mom, when you see pictures that you don't reneckonize, those ones are for me, k?"

Yeah, I reneckonize this one. Little bum being a Big stinker! Carrying on...



Little helpers being a Big help setting our Big table for our Big feast,



Big platters for Big appetites (whose face didn't make the cut 'cause of the Big hair he was sporting. The camera-woman was sporting some pretty Big hair, as well. That's why she was the camera-woman),



Big mouths getting stuffed with stuffing (BIG HIT Melanie, with your stuffing and apple pie recipes!),



Big sugar cookies with large amounts of frosting and toppings to end our Big carb fest. Thank goodness for Big stretchy pants.





Big smiles from satisfied customers.



If I haven't completely convinced you that we had a BIG ol' fun time, let me just say; my nephew with the Big eyes said this was the best time he's ever had at our house. Another phew.

Look, I even had the gold medal to prove it.



So, thanks again, Fam. We seriously had a BIG, GRAND time! Wanna know what really tickled me? Alaina taking such pride in setting a beautiful table for our dinner, Birgitta being such a talented, willing chef who makes 6 hours of slavery in the kitchen so fun, and Jeremy, who went the extra mile to sit at the table for an extra 10 minutes to make the 6 hours worth it.

Wow. This was a BIG post. Huh. I started typing on Sunday night. It's now Monday morning. I think I will end here.

Tomorrow, I will post on what happens when you give a little cutie a big cup of frosting.

Language Barrier

What are we taught is the fastest way to get from point A to point B? A straight line. A direct approach. This is obviously something that we are taught when we get a little older. This principal is completely wasted on children of the younger persuasion.

At a Dr. visit yesterday, the specialist was running down a list of fun little things that she had noticed about Chase; size of an average 7 year old, well-exercised, full of energy, bright, teeth coming and going, well-spoken....

When she mentioned well-spoken, I about detached and swallowed the dangly thing in the back of my throat, trying to stifle a giggle. While Chase is well-spoken most of the time, we do have a few communication glitches arise now and then. The speed bump, for now, is trying to decipher what he is saying when he chooses to speak in an alternative form. For example;

When asked a question, Chase will often respond by writing his answer in the air, with his finger. Not an easy thing to translate when his spelling of a word might not coincide with my spelling of that same word.

There is always the classic "made up" language. Yeah, that is a fun one. They look at you as if YOU are the one that just arrived from another planet when YOU have the nerve to not understand a single thing that is coming out of their mouth.

I must say that we have dabbled in our own version of sign language, as well. Chase must catch the puzzled look on my face since he volunteers translation. "Mom, that means 'yes'." Oh, thanks buddy. I was a little lost there for a second.

My personal favorite? Musical answers. He is quite a fan of writing words and letters. When showing me his school work after school, he points to his best letters of all, and breaks out into a stirring rendition of the Hallelujah chorus.

The other day, I was introduced to yet another hurdle set in my path in an attempt to derail and mystify me. I asked him a question and got nothing but whistling back as a response. Thinking he was ignoring me, I repeated the question with a little more vigor. Chase, in turn, repeated the same whistle pattern back to me. Then he said,

"You couldn't understand what I said, Mom? I said, 'Sure, I would love to, Mom.' Wow, you don't speak "whistle" very well, do you?"

Nope, kiddo. I am pretty sure my instruction manual got lost in the mail.

What if...?

I have figured out that one of my roles as a parent, is to educate. One of my best resources for parenting tips has come from my own experiences.

I have flattened my share of unsuspecting children waiting innocently on the other side of a closed door. Not wanting my poor boy to suffer the same painful and startling end as these other unfortunate little ones, I gave Chase a good warning. He was in the laundry room changing his jeans, right next to the door leading to the garage. Jeff had been going in and out while working on a project. I could see it was an accident waiting to happen. I quickly told Chase that he might want to move over to do his wardrobe switcheroo.

Now, a little incite to Chase. He is constantly throwing out "What if..." questions. For example, if we are a few minutes late for school, I get "What if we were a few HOURS late for school?" If I thank him for eating all of his vegetables, I get "What if I ate ALL of the vegetables in ALL of the world?" If I compliment him on how quickly he tied his shoe, I get "What if I was the fastest shoe-tier ever?" You get the idea. Frankly, I do tire a bit of this game. I have to be pretty spunky to think of a clever enough response to this constant barrage of "what if's".

When I told Chase to slide over to change his pants, he replied with the only response that most 5-year old children tend to generate,

"Why?" he asked.

I quickly told him that his dad would be opening the door any second and it would be very unfortunate if he was standing behind said door.

"Well, it's a good thing that Pepper doesn't know how to open doors."

wait for it....wait for it...and...here it comes:

"What if Pepper knew how to open doors?"

I was on my "A" game. I took the bait.

I wanted to say that wouldn't it be cool if she was like Underdog, 'cause Underdog could open a door. However, as soon as I started to speak, my brain cloud took over and I could not remember the superhero dog's name, to save my life.

"Well, she could only open a door if she was...uh...what is he called...um..."

"A human?"




After I wiped up the water that came spraying out of my mouth, and shooting out of my nose, I came to a good conclusion. It is waaaaay more fun to take the bait. You never know where their responses will take you.

Gone. All Gone

I have lost Chase.

Gone. Lost. Forever.

At the risk of sounding overly dramatic, I will explain. Wait a sec...who am I trying to kid here?! OF COURSE I am TRYING to sound overly DRAMATIC! Pfft.

Nonetheless, I will still e'splain.

Chase weighs 57 pounds. I have lost 55 pounds (go Shredded Wheat!). I "tried" Chase "on" the other day, to see how he fit. Chase wrapped his legs around my middle and his arms around my neck. I let go with my hands, to make it feel more realistic, and I walked and walked; up and down the hall, up and down the stairs. Uh, it's no wonder I used to hurt from head to toe. 57 pounds is a lot of junk to be hauling around in one's trunk! Kinda helped me put things into perspective. Kinda explained why I am feeling like this is such an accomplishment. Kinda makes me want to

SHOUT FROM THE ROOFTOPS!!

K. All better.

I really was trying to wait until I was the at the exact weight loss of Chase's weight, but, he seems to be thinking we are having some sort of competition. He is gaining weight almost as fast as I am losing it. He is going through a growth spurt right now, so we are having polar opposite results. We have taken out a bin full of clothes from Chase's room that he has outgrown...two garbage sacks from mine that are ginormous now. THANK GOODNESS it's not the other WAY AROUND.

I am sorry that this has become Blah Blah Blog of Danielle's weight loss blah blah blah. I just have decided that I couldn't really keep this in anymore. And, Melanie...don't get your pantyhose in a bunch. ;) I WILL post a photo; just as soon as either of my boys can learn how to take a picture that passes.

What The......?

I haven't decided what I like better; same old, same old, or feeling like the title of the old movie "The God's Must Be Crazy" has become your daily mantra. Seems like around our house these days, everything is topsy turvey. Everything is changing. Whether the change be for the better or for the worse, there is always someone that is left there thinking, "What the...?"

What the...is going on at our house?

There are bees in our basement. Really. We don't know where the source is. We find the whole thing rather odd. Chase's friend got stung, on the bum, in our house, playing with toys. They were all thinking "What the...?!"

It's only the 16th, and my visiting teaching has been done for a whole week. What the...!?

My dad has nearly finished six long weeks of chemo and radiation for stomach cancer. Cancer? Seriously? A BIG WHAT THE...!

I have lost 52 pounds since July. WHAT THE...!! Along with all of those poundages, I have lost inches off of many body parts, some mentionables, some not so mentionable. I am soooo close to leading our choir with only one part of my arm. So close. I am down almost 4 jean sizes. And, I like my bum. Whoa! What the...?

We have had Chase at the hospital or doctor's SIX times in FOUR weeks. I am sure the docs are thinking, "What the...?"

I bribed my entire ward choir, and their entire families, with a smoked pork bar-b-que, ala Jeff. I am shameless. When I broke the news to Jeff, he said, "What the...?"

I went 6 weeks, getting up at 5:30 AM, to attend a boot camp; one hour of non-stop, hurt-yourself cardio and resistant exercises. I went up and down Old Main stairs COUNTLESS times. WHOOT WHOO! I still get winded going down, then up my 13 stairs, to get a can of soup. What the...?

Chase learned how to tie his shoes after showing him only TWICE. That's it. I give credit to his kindergarten teacher, who put it as a requirement on their homework. She was so excited and proud of Chase, she literally said, "What the...?!"

I took almost 4 minutes off of my timed mile while doing boot camp. I won't tell you what my first time was. I will just let you be impressed with the near-4 minute deficit. I don't want anyone giving me crap, with a big, "What the...?!"

On Halloween, our neighbor walked right on by without even recognizing me. He said, "What the...?!"

I said, "Sweeeet!"

Are You Smarter Than A Kindergartener?

Chase has fallen in love with writing, followed closely by reading. He is constantly looking for the second mile to go when doing his homework...for now...at least.

For one assignment, Chase wrote the word "pig", complete with the little smiley-thingy above the "i", indicating the "i" makes a short sound. Chase was sure proud of himself when he showed me. He announced,

"Look, Mom! I even drew my breev!"

Chase often misplaces the "th" sound with a "v" sound, so I thought he was telling me that he wrote the verb breathe.

"How do you draw a "breathe", Chase?"

"No, BREEV."

"Yeah, how do you draw a "breathe?"

"No. B-R-E-V-E (pointing to the smile over the "i"). This is a breve, Mom. This. A breve. This is a breve."

Oh. Well, how was I supposed to know that, Mr. Smarty-Pants? I'm not the one in school.


On another page of his homework, he was to write words that he could find around the house that started with the letter "M". To make it more fun, I followed him around the house with a pencil and paper, scribing the words for him first. With all ten words found, he sat down and began to write the words on his homework, using my words for spelling. He came to a word that he couldn't read.

"Mom, what does this say?"

"Monster".

"THAT is an 'r'? You know better than to make an 'r' like that! I can't even read that!"

Uh, excuse me?

We are just at the beginning here. It's not looking good for me for here on out.

Counting Down to Fun-ness

In all of my blog-hopping travels (yup, I am one of those), I have come across a lot of clever people doing a lot of clever things. One that really lit my fire was a candy counter.

Every year, Chase's Halloween candy sits around, being moved from one location to another, never depleting. After I get tired of looking at it, I put it in the abyss called the candy drawer. It never sees the light of day again. Around the time of Halloween, a year later, I clean out the drawer and throw it away. Along with the Halloween candy, I throw out Valentine's, Easter and parade candy. Obviously, candy is not Chase's nemesis. Donuts, cookies, cupcakes? Yeah, there it is.

The candy counter idea puts his candy to good use and helps us look forward to and count down to some major events coming (i.e. birthdays, end of cancer treatments, holidays up to Christmas). We had a lot of fun working on this project together. Chase punched out all of the stars and wrote the dates on them. Well, looky there. Educational quality time with benefit of candy. Winner, winner, chicken dinner!





We ended up with 47 days, 47 treats, 6 special days to look forward to, improved number counting and writing, and some fabulous mom-son time. We are also breaking a new record. For the first time, in the history of Chase, he will actually finish his Halloween candy.

What a weird goal.

Baby, It's Cold Outside

When I dropped Chase off for school today, it was cold, but not quite wet. As I picked him up later, it was slushing...sideways. Being cold is one thing. Being wet and cold is another.

As we darted into the van for cover, Chase exclaimed,

"I am going to need a good cup of Joe when I get home."

I Am Fi-hive, Going On Five-teen

People watching. Have you ever done it? I love to people watch. Something else I really like doing? Eavesdropping on conversations between little kids. That's good stuff.

I gave Chase and his buddy staplers, papers, tape, writing implements, and a folder. The folders were a slight after-thought. I thought they might enjoy using the folders to store all of their soon-to-be-born masterpieces.

After a few minutes, I heard Chase showing off a new word. He was trying to explain to his friend that their folders could be their "portfolio", and could house all their creations. When I heard this conversation beginning, I knew it was in my best interest to start writing. I knew it was going to be good. This is the conversation I scribed:


c "Portfolio."

a "mumble mumble."

c "No, port-folio."

a "mumble mumble?"

c "No. Port...like airport...port-folio."

a "Port?"

c "Port."

a "Folio?"

c "Folio. Portfolio. Now let me hear you say it."

a "Por-folio."

c "No. Por-T-folio. T -t -t -t. Let me hear you say it again."

a "Port-folio."

c "There you go! Good job!"



a few minutes later...



a "What was that word again?"

c "Portfolio."

a "Fort-folio?"

c "P-ortfolio. P -p -p -p. Portfolio.

a "Port-folio."

c "Yes. You got it."

a "YESSSSS! I am going to do some work in my...my...whatever."

c "Yup. You know what? You CAN call it whatever you want."

a "Okay. I am going to do some work in my notebook."



I honestly thought I was going to pee my pants. Man, this kid is seriously killing me.

Mother's Dictionary

Have you ever found yourself translating the words of your children for others? After all, you live with these tykes 24/7. You come to find that you can speak Kidese almost fluently.

Oddly enough, I have found myself translating my son's speak to my husband. I guess being home all day gives me an advantage.

But, who gets to translate for me? I am NEARLY fluent in Kidese, but have to admit there are times when I draw a blank. There are times when I have no idea what my son is saying. He is almost 6, so it's not goo-goo and gaa-gaa that get me flummoxed. It's the pronunciation of every day words that gets me tied up.

Last night's car ride home was really one for my journal. My cute little jabber box was in high gear last night. It would have suited me well to have sat there with a pencil and paper, jotting down his every word, recognizable or not.

It all started with him trying to remember where he got a particular Halloween candy from. He has the memory of an elephant, so I knew it would only be a matter of time before it would come to him;

"Oh, yeah! Now I remember where I got my box of Milk Buds! From that house where the guy was making stones!"

Brian Larsen was passing out Milk Duds, and scones.

Other translatables:


rock-a-mole - guacamole

reneckenize - recognize

brawn medal - bronze medal, more specifically, what he calls a penny

amonia - pneumonia

bad nuts - coffee beans


Is it wrong of me to hope that he never figures out how to say these words correctly? I like them just the way they are.

Say What?!?

Seriously, I think they are putting something in our water.

After our FHE activities tonight, we headed through town on the way back home. Chase is absolutely loving reading right now and reads, or tries to read, everything he sees from point A to point B. As we passed a particular department store, I took great pleasure in pointing out to my son that the store was sporting an illuminated tribute to him on it's front exterior. When Chase began wondering why he was so awesome as to be lucky enough to have his name in lights, I felt obligated to divulge to him that is was the name of the bank that resided inside said store.

After a brief and thoughtful pause, my son broke the silence;

"Chase. That is such an awesome name. I wish that was MY name."

Huh?

Anyone know where I can score me some Ginkgo Biloba? We're having a rough time over here. My "duh" moments seems to be catchy.

Gas Pains

I have started a notoriously bad habit of letting my van run out of gas. I have tried to think of a good reason why I feel it necessary to run my van to fumes. It would be a lot easier on me, and the unfortunate souls who have come to rescue me, if I would get to a gas station at least 2 days faster. There is one silver lining, however, in testing the capacity of my gas tank. Chase has demonstrated an early ability to be able to recognize when he needs to turn to prayer. He has also demonstrated that he is developing an immense amount of faith.

On Wednesday, I was at it again. As we were heading down 800 West, on our way to Logan, I noticed that the little red line was dying an unfortunate death again. I swear that line is falling past "E" faster and faster. I chuckled that familiar chuckle and stated nervously to Chase that we had better be getting to a gas station.

As if on demand, Chase replied, "Should I hurry and say a prayer again?"

I smiled and said to go ahead. As Chase prayed a prayer that he has become all too familiar with, I drove to the end of the road. Chase finished his plea for another miracle on behalf of his neglectful mother while we sat at the intersection, waiting to turn. As the car idled there at a slight angle, the gas gauge readjusted and rose to the "E". Chase sucked in his breath. He burst out,

"Did you see that?! Oh, I am going to say a prayer right now, and thank Heavenly Father for giving us extra gas to make it to the gas station!"

There was nothing in this world that was going to get me to explain the scientific nature of gas tanks and gas gauges. I just drove into town, very grateful for little opportunities to teach a righteous little boy about prayer, and to watch him develop the faith to move mountains...and gas gauges.

Happiness Is...

On Thursday night, Jeff and I were discussing the ward choir bar-b-que that we will be having at our house today. Chase was buzzing around us, noisely saving the world with his Lego creation.

Jeff asked me how many people we were to be expecting for the shindig. I replied,

"We are looking at x-amount of adults, and x-amount of kids."

Chase stopped mid flight,

"Kids". sigh "I love kids", he said dreamily.

Then, he went right back to fighting the bad guys.

Is Today My Lucky Day?

No. Apparently not. It just seems that you are one sandwich shy of a full picnic. Not quite running on all cylinders today.


I went to the grocery store today. At check out, the amount came to $98 and something. I handed the young man-boy checker a crisp one hundred dollar bill. We exchanged the customary niceties as I haplessly watched my backyard bar-b-bque ingredients filling plastic grocery bags. The cashier asked me if I was collecting Turkey Vouchers ($1.00 coupons that you can either use towards purchasing your holiday Tom, or donate to the food bank). I happily replied that I was and thanks for reminding me that the holiday season now officially feels like it can begin. Seriously. I love Turkey Vouchers!

When all necessary business had been taken care of, the young man handed me a small stack of stuff, consisting of 4 Turkey Vouchers (yay whooo!), a crisp dollar bill, and a long and winding receipt, in that order. I looked at my treasures, elated at what I held in my hand. No longer able to keep my joy to myself, I said,

"Ah, sweet! And what's the dollar bill for? Is this a new holiday thing you guys have started? Did I spend enough money to get a gift, or something?"

"Um, no. Not so much. That's just part of your change, ma'am" he said, as he dumped some coins in my hand, while wearing a very unimpressed and weary expression on his face.

Uh, right. I knew that. I just wanted to make your day, young man. I thought I would give you a little respite from the same old boring, smart people, that would never be brave enough to show their blond moments in public. Today is YOUR lucky day, dude.

I really left my mark on this poor grocery store today. I am sure they were extra impressed with me when, after returning $40 worth of charcoal a few hours later, I walked right back out of the store, taking the cart of charcoal with me. The customer service rep said,

"Um, ma'am, you can go ahead and leave the cart right there. We will take care of that for you."

"Oh, yeah, um, I was just, well, I mean, I thought, duh, I just wanted to move it, er, out of the way, buh, over here. Right. Sigh. I am going home to take a nap."

Gird your loins, people. Tomorrow is Saturday...and I need milk for the Sabbath.

I'm FREEEEEE!

One can only imagine the frustration of an energized little boy who is forced to have his hands bound. Still, I have not heard one word of complaint from little Job in the 2 weeks he has had to endure this torture.


One night, I unwrapped them for the twice daily ritual of unwrapping, cleaning, inspecting, salving and re wrapping. I felt pleased enough with what I saw, so I told Chase I thought I would leave them off for the night.


Chase stared in amazement at the new gift that had just been handed to him. His eyes grew large as he turned his hands over and over, flexing and unflexing his fledgling appendages. He raised both hands over his head and shouted triumphantly,


"I feel like I have my hands back! My hands feel like...FREEDOM!!"

Tomorrow, we wrap his hands for the last time. We are going naked! Whoot whoot! Chase is both excited and a little apprehensive. Last night, we gave his nude hands a trial run out in public...where the germs are...with new, pink skin. Shudder, shudder. We were halfway across town before I realized that this bub was still not buckled in his seat belt. He had been silently stuggling with the latch for at least 5 minutes. When I asked him what the deal was and would he please get buckled, he said,

"I am too used to my wraps. I can't buckle my seat belt without my hands wrapped. (big sigh) I miss my wraps."

You will soon get over it, my dramatic one! And by the way, you have endured this well, Chase. We are proud of you!

Are You Wearing Egg Today?

We have all had moments where we end up eating our words. It is usually not a pleasant experience, seeing that it generally hits you square in your pride...which happens to be a highly sensitive area.


If you're lucky, your infraction goes unnoticed. For example, I was painfully awakened, the other morning, from a fabulous sleep, by the obnoxious barking of the neighbor's dog. As I grumpily staggered into the bathroom, I threw a glance out the window, only to see that it was MY dog that was yapping. I didn't even know she could bark. After a quick reprimand, she whimpered away and I triumphantly plopped back on my bed. No hurt pride there.


Most of the time, however, we are not that lucky.


With way too much time being home bound during the last few weeks, Chase and I had a lot of extended time together. Sometimes that's good. Sometimes, it does not bode well for either of us. After an abnormally bad day last week, seemingly full of spills and plops and falls and drops, I had had enough. When I plunked Chase's juice in front of him, I left it with a loving threat of hard labor, dismemberment, and long-term imprisonment, if a spill should happen to occur.


A few hours later, I was privileged to find out what a mature fellow my soon-to-be 6 year old son has become. He said not ONE triumphant word while on his hands and knees, helping me mop up the near 2 liter bottle of sticky Sprite I spilled all over my kitchen.


His eyes, on the other hand, burned VOLUMES in my general direction. The phrase that seemed to come in crystal clear to me was,

"Huh. Mom, you got a little egg on your face. I think the yolk sets off your eyes."

Me? No, I am not that mature. After the sugary lacquer was sopped into the towels, I huffed with a dramatic self-pitied flare while standing at the sink. Mr. I'm-Just-So-Glad-It-Wasn't-Me finally found the right words of encouragement for his poor mom;

"Mom, you said that bad word ag......"

"I don't care!" I firmly interrupted. "I meant it!"

Nice one, Mom. Really mature.

Here's to meltdowns!

Tough Cookies

Congratulations, Grandpa! You're half way there! We are so proud of you and Grandma. We are thankful for your examples of faith and strength. We love you both so much and feel it such a great privilege to be able to pray for you both during this trial of a lifetime. You're almost there!

This amazing man, hanging in the air, is my Dad. He's undergoing chemo and radiation for stomach cancer, and still has the energy and good spirits to do this. He has good days, and bad; strong days and sick days; and all sorts of others in between. He's one tough cookie. Behind this tough cookie, happens to be another tough cookie.

She made of some pretty strong stuff.

There is another fabulous Glenn in my life. The little one who lives here with me happens to be one tough cookie, as well. Behind this tough little cookie, happens to be a...cream puff full of marshmallow fluff.

But, she's learning to be a tough cookie. Luckily, she has good examples!

We love you Grandma and Grandpa!

The Sky's the Limit

Chase: When I grow up, I am TOTALLY going to be a Superhero.



Mom: Oh, yeah? Why is that? Is it because you are trying to eat your fruits and vegetables?



Chase: Yup, and 'cause I always have TONS of energy.







Well, if that's what it takes, Captain Chaser-Beans, you are already my Hero! I sure love you, Kick-a-poo-kid.