Drugs are a drag

Years ago before I had fully grown into my beaver teeth I entered a pilot program called D.A.R.E. I was the first graduating class and I suppose it worked because I have stayed away from drugs for years now. Given that they had spent all this money designing a really crappy logo they have continued to educate the youths of America about the dangers of illicit drug use. Thing 1 is currently enrolled and I hear all about officer Scott but zero about the core of the subject.
Apparently this week is red ribbon week at Thing one's school. It used to be that they issued a crappy ribbon that you were required to wear all week that came with a standard micro sized safety pin that was no doubt the culprit in a few tetanus cases. Now it requires dressing up in various things to show your support of the anti movement, mainly because kids are soft and are too delicate to be stabbed on a daily basis.
Today was Disney day with the theory that you should be in your happy place and not use drugs. I really really wanted to tell Thing one that that is the dumbest thing that I have ever heard and then ask for a refund on my tax dollars that paid people to come up with that. Instead I feigned interest whilst he came up with elaborate ideas as to what he should be. The worst part is he is also supposed to come up with a Halloween costume this week as well and there is no way no how I am paying for 2 separate costumes even if it means that I am taking my chances of my kids developing some unsavory habit. When I realized I could procrasitante no more I decided it was time to get off my lazy can and throw something together.
So while he wanted to be the mad hatter which he said was easy and all it would take was spray painting a hat we don't own, wearing a shirt that is not made for general retail and donning a coat that has tails and large buttons I steered him into the direction of being Gaston which would require wait for it, one yellow shirt. Even better one yellow shirt from the DI that cost me five doll hairs. I did call on of my student employees and she graciously provided a belt for the ensemble. It turns out this was a slippery slope that I slide all the way down. In my extensive five minute google search of DYI Gaston costumes it occurred to me that he wears boots.  I figured if he was already wearing a girls belt we might as well commit and wear girl boots as well. I proposed the idea to which he said no way people will make fun of me for wearing girl boots. My come back was don't worry son I have enormous feet and no one will be able to tell that they are made for a girl. I realize now that I am a little ways away from the situation that this logic was in fact not sane since you know men don't wear riding style boots. The wheels were already set in motion so this morning my son left my house clomping around in size 12 lady boots in the name of staying drug free. Ironically this might just be what drives him to use while he is trying to erase the pains of being taunted for his choice in footwear.

So recap- even if you were the same size as a drag queen it does not qualify as men's wear and because of this faux pas my kid is dabbling in the world of cross dressing. Looks like I am going to remove my name from mother of the year ballot- again.

It's Fall Y'all!

Welp it is official. Fall has sprung around our parts which means that by law I am required to wiggle my body into comfy jams and hibernate. I hate to do it but as a law abiding citizen I have no choice.
We tried to squeeze the last few drops of fun out of summer by taking the boy howdys to the drive in. I thought there was a whole post in that little adventure. Turns out not so much.
Shocking since giving a blow by blow account of watching a film sounded like such a rivoiting story. I did learn that I have not lost my Jewish motherly ways and our trunk proved it.

I am not sure what I thought we would encounter but we were prepared. So long as the preparation called for blankets and an ottoman.

We did pack calzones  which Minion informed me first thing is not drive in food. I am not sure what constitutes drive in food or who made him the authority but either way they were delicious.
So that was it for the last hoorah and I thought that it would be enough to tide me over and then the cold hit. It has been raining and cold and the forecast calls for snow before Halloween and suddenly I have found myself wishing I could return to warmth and sun. Somehow, someway my foodie brain has translated tropical climates with butternut ravioli in brown butter sauce. The best food I have ever eaten consumed in sunny California with the likes of y'all. Only problem is my desire to recreate my past is often squashed by my laziness, that and Myers has been keeping the house at 64 degrees. I kid you not I am writing this in a hoodie. Cooking in a hoodie should only happen in extreme cases like camping. Luckily for all of us I am married to the most amazing human I know and while I was konked out on the couch all lady like with my mouth agape he snuck to the grocer and got the stuff for the ravioli and then made the filling.
When I awoke we stuffed the crap out of some pasta and then proceeded to gorge our selves. I also happened to pinterest the crap out of the photos.

Good thing summer is 10 months away as per the Idaho calendar because any dinner that requires a pool of butter on the plate is no doubt bad for the old swimsuit body. That however sounds like a problem for future Chris.

On a huffy

During the dog days of summer when it was so hot outside my brain became a little fuzzy I suggested that we should try to bike all the way  out to Big Judd's. As soon as I chilled my blood stream down with its natural contents, read Dr. Pepper, I quickly abandoned this stupid plan. Apparently Thing 2 has not forgotten and so he asked if we were ever going to try the Big Jug's challenge. Let it be stated that I think it is hi-larious that they think it is big jugs so I have never corrected them. This may backfire years from now when they find a nudie bar with the same title and go wandering on in for some tater tots but I will deal with that when it happens.
So being that we live in agricultural Idaho we are granted a week to pick spuds. I can't even keep a house plant alive let alone hundreds of acres of tubers so for us we just have nothing but time on our hands. With that time we decided to bike out to the middle of no where  and have ourselves a hamburger. Turns out it is an 18.2 mile round trip journey. Here is the acccount
12:00 we set out after rigging the boys up with camel packs so we don't risk the horrible side effects of dehydration.  Here we are in all of our naivety thinking that this is a good plan.

12:06 We are now in the land of no sidewalks and not so safely planted in the middle of a highway. I try to distract myself with the splendor of nature and the perfect weather and to ignore the fear that at any given moment we could be killed
12:12 Thing 1 has now noticed that we are in possible grave danger and he is interrupting my attempts at tranquility to point out how close the cars are and how fast they are going that kid is fast becoming a buzz kill.
12:18 I am now as equally freaked out as my off spring and I am trying desperatly to keep my mind off of it. Luckily I noticed that I am starving and start to consider hoping the fence to share the grass with all the horses we are passing. This keeps me occupied for the next 20 minutes
12:38 We are now turning off the main highway onto a lovely country road. We have now passed the longest continuous set of miles we have ever cycled in one stretch and every single one of us is feeling it. It then occurs to me that while we have done 6 straight miles we have always had the luxury of stop lights and cross roads to allow our butt cheeks a chance to rest. In the country there are no such luxuries and I am starting to really hate myself for allowing an 8 year old to pick the family activity. Luckily for all of us the aforementioned 8 year old announces that he has to whiz on account of he has sucked his camel pack dry. Seeing my chance for a rest I allow him to pee on the weeds. I also took the chance to snap a picture. He was offened that he was not in it. I tried to explain that nobody wants to see him relieving himself but he thinks that I am trying to pull a fast one on him.

12:46 All hell breaks loose as we encounter the dreaded farm dog who is giant, loose, and fond of chasing things. I am starting to wonder if I have the emotional fortitude to kick a dog in the face in front of my children when I spot a horse boner. I then have an internal battle as I try to decide which one to focus on. The ultimate sign of good luck or the blood thirsty hound. Adrenalin kicks in and I just pedal faster and miss both. I am still not sure if I should be grateful or angry
12:52 Thing 2 throws his bike down in the middle of the road for no reason and goes running in the opposite direction which causes some concern. Turns out he found a wrench and like his grandfather can't leave things on the road. He then proceeds to tell Myers that whoever lost it was obviously a nincompoop. When he tried to correct him on this thought process he says fine then they are a hippocrisp. Not sure what that is but I laugh. Until I realize that I am STILL on my bike then I cry a little.
12:54 Thing 2 throws his bike down in the middle of the road this time he is inspecting something very closely

It was a super hairy caterpillar which warranted a second stop and possible damage to his bike.

He tells me it is natures pipe cleaner. I wanted to ask what the hell mother nature needed a pipe cleaner for but realized it was my hanger talking and so I bite my tongue.
1:05 I am starting to think we are never going to get there and I am thinking about just asking a farmer for lunch. Thing 1 is in the same boat and by this point  we are all spent when Myers announce only 5 more minutes.
1:08 Thing 2 sees a praying mantis but by some act of God does not throw his bike down
1:12 google maps lies but we have finally arrived. We look like the cat has drug us through all sorts of things and we are starving and are grateful when the waitress brings us drinks the size of our heads

1:20 FOOD! We eat until we were sick and then climbed back on our bikes for another 9 miles back in. The burger was good the tots exceptional and the company divine!

Moral of the story we are capable of hard things and when you do hard things you are rewarded with free wrenches. Or something like that