A couple of random stories........

Okay, here's a montage of some random stories and pictures and videos from the last couple of weeks that I've been hanging on to, but haven't had a chance to write about.

If pissing in the ocean is wrong,
then I don't wanna be right...

It's better to have tried and failed, than never to have tried at all...

The other day, I was upstairs sanding the baseboards in the hallway upstairs getting ready for our carpet to get installed, and Jaxon was downstairs playing. I heard something coming up the stairs pretty slowly, so I leaned over to see what it was. There I see Jaxon, kind of whimpering, naked from the waist down, holding his pants. And in the most pathetic voice that you've ever heard, I hear, "Daddy, I tried wiping my butt. I tried, but it was just too much. I can't do it." I started laughing and went to go pick him up, when I noticed that he had crap all over the backs of his legs. Ooooookay, I guess it's bath time. Apparently, and this is just my speculation of what happened, Jax started trying to wipe his butt, realized he was outmatched, sat down to maybe put his pants on so he could come tell me what happened, then realized what a shitty idea putting on his pants would be (pun intended). I gave him a bath, and it wasn't until later that we realized he had wiped poop all over our white rug in the bathroom. Keith noticed it, and was trying to figure out which dog tracked in mud, when Rach said,

Rach: Umm, I'm pretty sure that's poop.

Keith: No, it can't be. I smelled it.

Rach (calling to me upstairs): Jeff! Did Jax have an accident today?

Me (calling back downstairs): Yeah! I'm giving him a bath now! He came upstairs with crap all over his legs!

Keith (leaving the bathroom): I think I'm gonna throw up.

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It took the Egyptians years to build their pyramids,
it only took my family 9 hours to make this sand castle.
Eat that, Egyptians!

Modesty and Honesty

So a couple of Fridays ago, Rach was off of work and was taking Jaxon to the beach. Naturally, I got extremely jealous and decided to take a half day off of work, check Cole and Scarlett out of school, and meet them out there. I went home first to get 'beach ready', getting Cole and Scarlett's swimsuits so we could head straight to the beach. After I checked them out of school, I told them to change into their swimsuits. Cole was sitting in the front seat and quickly changed into his, but Scarlett hesitated for a bit. Then, from the backseat, she says, "Cole, don't turn around. I'm changing." So Cole responds, very matter of factly, "Scarlett, I don't want to see you naked." I had no idea how to respond to this.

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Partial Birthday Wishes?

We were singing happy birthday to Cole last week, and Jax climbed up on the bar stool to be close to his big brother. I know, very touching, right? Ummm, not so much. So when we finish singing, and Cole gets ready to blow out the candles, Jaxon leans over and blows out 4 of Cole's 10 candles. Cole blew out the rest and sulked, "Awww, Jaxon took 40% of my wish!" I hope he didn't wish for a puppy.

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I guess my dad's blue shorts were in the laundry

At Least Papa Still Has Two Good Armrests

While my dad was visiting a couple of weeks ago, I noticed that he was having a little bit of trouble getting Jaxon into the car seat in my truck. The car seat has an armrest that folds up for when you're putting the kid in the seat, but apparently did not fold up high enough for my dad's liking. When Rach and I got back from Miami, I noticed that the armrest was broken off. My dad says it was an 'accident'. Just like Rach 'accidentally' threw away my camouflage shorts. Anyway, I was telling Keith how I questioned the accidentness (I realize this isn't a word) of my dad breaking the armrest, when Jaxon chimed in from the backseat, "Papa broke it. Papa broke my armrest." And then he pointed to the armrest on the other side, "But that's okay. I still have this armrest." We laughed, and Keith said, "Well, at least you have a good attitude about it." So Jax responds sadly, "Yeah, but I still miss this armrest, though."

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How do you spell irony? D-I-S-A-P-O-I-N-T.......

Can you use it in a sentence, please? Can I
have the origin of the word? Can I have
the definition? Are there any alternate definitions?
Umm, I gotta be honest. I have no idea how to spell that.

Earlier this year, Cole won his school's spelling bee. And as a fellow nerd, I couldn't be more proud. I tell Cole all the time to embrace his nerdiness, because nerds grow up to get the good jobs and marry the hot chicks. Although Cole's not really a nerd. He doesn't have nearly the nerditude that I did when I was growing up. I was fat, I did quiz bowl competitions, spelling bees, geography bees, and even rode a short bus to the school across town because of their gifted program. So the kids in my neighborhood who saw me get on the short bus thought I was some really dorky smart kid, and the kids at my school who saw me get off the short bus thought I was some really dorky retarded kid. Cole is neither. He's more of a normal kid who happens to be really smart.

Anyway, Cole's spelling bee victory at his school scored him entrance into the regional spelling bee that included all of the local area schools. The top two spellers from about 20 different schools were in the regional competition. So for the whole week leading up to the spelling bee, I kept throwing out words for Cole to spell. And we may have actually created a new game called 'Speed Spelling', because Cole would have to hurry up and spell the word before Scarlett had a chance to chime in. I'm pretty sure that there isn't anything I could do to keep Scarlett from blurting out answers. I could threaten her Barbies, threaten her Little Pet Shop stuff, threaten her life, threaten to make her wear brown, anything. It didn't work. Cole just had to think quicker.

So on the Saturday of the Spelling Bee, I made sure we got there good and early to get signed in and set up and stuff. And as I was pulling into the parking lot, I remember thinking, "Man, this place is PACKED! How many 4th graders are there?" Then as we got inside the building to sign up, I realized that the spelling bee for 1st, 2nd, 3rd, and 4th graders. Oh crap, I'm going to be here all day. Maybe they're going to lump them all together in one group? Please? Please can you lump them together in one group? No? Damnit! I'm never going home. And of course they let the 1st graders go first and the 4th graders go last. And as I'm confirming this horrible fact by looking at the programs that they were passing out, I notice that they spelled Cole's name wrong. Eole Wolcott. Awesome. There's a keepsake. Only in South Carolina could they misspell your name at a spelling bee.

We make it to our seats to get ready for the 1st graders to begin. 20 minutes after teacher introductions, we finally get the competition started. This shouldn't take too long, right? I mean, they're first graders! Well it wouldn't have taken too long had they not started with words like 'dog' and 'cat' and 'mom' and 'pop'. It was excruciating. One round and one hour later, 32 out of the 32 contestants were still alive. The words eventually got harder, and slowly the spellers began to fall. Never before have I actively rooted for kids to be stupid. Another hour later, it came down to two kids: a blonde headed little girl in a bright pink polka dotted dress and a giant yellow bow in her hair that made it look like she was welcoming soldiers home, and a fat kid with a fake tattoo on his arm that reminded me of myself at that age. So, naturally, I throw my support behind the fat kid. So little Miss Punky Brewster skips up to the microphone, and they give her the word, 'flower'. Flower?! Really?! This girl looks so much like a hippie that her name might be flower. This thing is completely rigged. She, of course, nails it, and now it's fatty's turn. His word; 'hamburger'. I couldn't make this stuff up. And, no big surprise, he nailed it. After a couple more rounds, the hamburglar finally won it with the word, 'medicine'. (Probably a word that he's familiar with due to his early onset of diabetis, a la Wilford Brimley. Just kidding.)

By this time, it's been 2.5 hours, we've only gotten through the first grade, and I'm hungry enough to eat 9 H-A-M-B-U-R-G-E-R-S. Because of my hunger (and also because I couldn't handle hearing Scarlett tell me that she knows how to spell every word that's called out. She's the smartest person in her class, you know?), I decided to go get something to eat. We ended up going over to Racheal's work because she was making stuffed bell peppers.

(And on a different note, Racheal cooks about like Dr. Dre releases albums. It only happens once every few years, but when it does, it surprises you because it's awesome, then you remember, "Oh yeah, Now I remember how good they are at this." What I'm trying to say, is those bell peppers were Oh-some.)

I spent a little while at Rach's work before going back to the spelling bee. At this point, going back to the spelling bee was like walking the Green Mile. It was really hard for me not to start kicking and screaming and running the other way, but I kept my composure.

Finally, it was time for the 4th graders to start, and Rach met me in the auditorium. As the kids were walking up on stage (Cole was 26th), I found myself sizing them up, and COMPLETELY prejudging them based on looks. I am unbelievably ashamed that I actually had thoughts, "Oh, Cole's definitely smarter than that kid. I mean, look at him, he can't even tie his shoes right." And then all of a sudden, right before they started, I began to get really, really nervous. Like, way more nervous than I've ever been in my entire life. I was very much 'about to puke all over the place' nervous. It's just this overwhelming sense of helplessness as your kid is putting himself out there. I could barely breathe. Then I look over to Scarlett, and she looks at me with this completely serious look. And says, "If Cole wins this, I will be SO jealous!" Confused, I was like, "Jealous? You mean happy for him, right?" And she says, "Nope. I'd be jealous." Could she be more of a diva?

Finally, Cole gets up there, after about 10 people already got knocked out in the first round, and his word is, 'aisle'. What?! A silent letter in the first round?! Come on! So Cole says slowly, "aisle, I-........S-L-E". And I immediately think to myself, "That's a damn word! They never specified which kind of isle!" The orator looked at the judges, then explained that if a word has a homophone and the kid doesn't ask for a definition, then either spelling will suffice. You damn right it will!


Round 2, about 16 kids left. Cole's word.....diagram. I swallow my tongue in terror. Cole nails it. I'm hyperventilating.

Round 3, about 7 kids left. Cole's word.....artificial. Oh crap. Get the car.




Whew!! Success! Thought he lost it there for a minute. I just crapped my pants.

Round 4, 5 kids left. Cole's word....disappoint. So he pauses for a second....and then.......D......I.......S......A..........P....................O............I........N......T.

Ugh. Heartbreaker. At that moment, you just feel so bad for him. We went straight to the cafeteria where they had snacks set up for the kids. We told him how awesome he did. Gave him hugs. Told him how proud we were. Made sure he wasn't too bummed out. And after I thought about it, maybe it's better that he doesn't know how to spell 'disappoint'. Because, really, that word doesn't even need to be in his vocabulary. Good job, Cole. Mommy and Daddy are proud of you.

Moons O'er MyHammy.........

Note: I'm sure you were all dying to know what has been going on in the King household, and I was going to give you a bunch of little snippets of what has been going on lately, but once I started typing I couldn't get past the first story. So here's a brief synopsis of our trip to Miami.


A couple of weeks ago, Rach and I went to a wedding (by ourselves) in Miami, and it was AWESOME! Now at this point in our lives, Rach and I would be excited about the two of us going anywhere alone. You could tell us that we were going to milk cows in Sheboygan, Wisconsin for a few days, and we'd both be excitedly sitting on the plane with our overalls and rubber gloves on. Rach would probably even bedazzle herself a straw hat. But with that being said, it really was an awesome trip. When Rach booked the rental car, I'm pretty sure she tried to book us a Cadillac CTS so that we could drive around Miami in style. We didn't get the CTS, but the rental company was pretty close. They gave us a blacked out Lincoln Continental! It was the most incredible car I've ever driven. I couldn't decide if I was in the FBI, in the mob, or in the car service industry. When we walked up to the car, I climbed in the trunk and yelled out, "Look how many bodies you can fit back here!" Then I called my best friend, Agent EZ, to see if there was any way he could get me one of those old school blue lights to put on the dashboard. Then I climbed in the backseat to make it seem like Rach was chauffeuring me around the city. (And just in case you're not scoring at home, I made 3 rental car jokes in a matter of seconds. And don't think that I slowed that pace down at all. Rach never wants to see another Continental for as long as she lives.) Anyway, we got to spend a full day in South Beach, laying out for a long time, then taking one for the team and shopping for a long time. (Although I will say that it was by far, the greatest shopping trip of my lifetime. That's not even a joke.) But when we were close to being done with all of the shopping, I left Rach in the store to go get the car out of the parking garage. I got back to the store that Rach was in, but ended up having to wait outside in the car for about 20 minutes. The wait wouldn't have been so bad if I didn't have 10 different people come up to the car and ask me how much it would cost for me to take them to some other part of time. "I'm not a car service, Damnit!!" And this is the conversation I had with one of the semi-drunk guys:

Semi-Drunkie: Hey man, How much to get back downtown?

Me: Sorry man, I'm not a taxi.

Semi-Drunkie: Oh, my bad bro. Hey, how much did this car cost? Because I'm thinking about getting me a fleet of these and starting my own business.

Me: I have no idea. This is just a rental car.

Semi-Drunkie: Oh, word. But do you know how much they are?

Me: Not sure, man. Just a rental.

Semi-Drunkie: Oh, but that would be sweet though, right?

Me: Yes, you should definitely look into it.


But enough about the car, the wedding was awesome too. The wedding participants were Racheal's childhood friend, Crystal, and her husband, Dean, who I had never met. I had heard a lot about him, but that was mostly just Racheal telling me how much I'd like him. "Oh, you are just going to love Dean. He's funny. He works out. He's got great eyebrows. Guys would kill for his eyebrows." (Okay, maybe not the last part, but Rach was definitely talking this guy up like she was setting me up on a blind date with a one-legged hunchback.) It turned out, though, that Dean was really fun to hang out with. Actually, everyone was. It was the type of wedding that made you think three things: One was, "Wow, people really are better looking in Miami." Two, "Everybody here is just trying to have a good time." And three, "Holy crap, I think this bartender is trying to kill me!"

It's almost more fun to go to a wedding that you don't know too many people at because you get to meet all these great people from all over who are all celebrating the same thing. And there's not anyone at the wedding that you don't like because, well, you just met them. And you how some couples disappear after their wedding? Because maybe they're too tired? Or maybe they want to get a jump on their honeymoon? Or maybe they're just snooty and don't feel like hanging out after getting married? Well, Dean and Crystal were NOT that couple. Oh no, fast forward to 5:30 in the morning to Crystal ordering pancakes in a diner still wearing her wedding dress. Now THAT is my kind of couple. (After all, Rach and I ended up at Waffle House and skinny dipping in a pool the night we got married, so this was right up our alley.) But I digress, after the wedding we all piled in the Lincoln as a very sober Racheal drove a bunch of very unsober wedding guests to a night club in downtown Miami. It was pretty much exactly what you would expect from a Miami night club. The only reason they let us guys in was because we were with good looking women. And even then it felt like the bouncer was eyeing me up and down like the guy buying slaves in the movie Gladiator. I was waiting for him to ask me what my trade was. "I was a hunter." Then after we got into the club, we walked through what seemed like 7 different clubs all with different levels of VIPness. We ended up at the bar in some very large, very loud, very crowded room (How old am I?). We ended up getting a table so that we had somewhere to put our stuff, and also so that we had a place for people to dance on the table and chug bottles of Bacardi (I only did one of those). I imagine that this night was the closest that I'll ever get to seeing what it is like to be a rapper. I should've finally debuted my rap name, Lewy C Ana (kinda like Flo-Rida). And looking back on it now, maybe we should've been drinking Henny and Hypnotiq instead. Anyway, we ended up shutting down the bar at 4 am, and going to the aforementioned diner where, one of Crystal's friends may or may not have shown everyone at the table what he had been eating and drinking all night. Bleh! But that was before he gathered his composure and proceeded to repeatedly hit on the ladies at the table next to us. Then Racheal nearly lost her composure when she threatened to cut his balls off with a butter knife if he went over to go talk to them again. Honey, do you think KFC is still open?

The next day, there was a 'What Happened Last Night' Brunch (Not the actual title of the brunch) where we all regrouped and rehashed the events of the previous night. Then we returned the Lincoln and hopped on a plane so that I could begin my 3 day hangover (I swear I didn't feel right until the next Tuesday). But all in all we had a great time. We celebrated a beautiful couple's beautiful wedding; we met some awesome people; we had an awesome day on the beach, we spent an awful lot of money; and most importantly, we got through yet another trip without killing each other. We actually didn't even get into one fight. Now I gotta start planning that trip to Sheboygan.