A Lock In of a Different Kind

Years ago when Danny and I bought our house, we noticed that the only door knob in the house that has a lock on it (other than the outside doors) is the one on our master bathroom, and it is installed backwards. We never gave thought to it... Never had reason to.... that is until today. Danny and I were in the bathroom this morning. He was brushing his teeth, and I was fixing my hair. Grant was running around the house, playing. He ran through our bedroom and slammed the bathroom door. I mentioned to Danny that I was thankful Grant didn't catch his fingers in it because he slammed it so hard. Danny finished his business and went to get dressed. YEP, you guessed it. The door was locked! Hmmmm.... what to do now. We poked the end of my comb in the hole in the knob... no luck. Jiggled the door knob and banged on the door... no luck. I layed down on the floor and hollered at Grant, "Graaaaannnt, come here." I hear the small, sweet voice from two rooms away, "no." Again I call, "Grant, please come here buddy." Again, "no." At this point, I am starting to panic a little. Time is ticking away, and I have a ton of court cases set. We have no way of calling anyone and the window in the bathroom doesn't open. I began to wonder if our only hope was the judge (my boss) sending law enforcement out to either 1) complete a welfare check or 2) execute a bench warrant for my arrest when I fail to show up for work. Thank heavens I have a strong "brute" for a husband and a cheaply made mobile home. Danny was able to pull really hard on the knob and push the door open. Yet again, ahhhhh, the joys of parenthood!

Grrr....

I have been, for obvious reasons, been trying to clean up my language. I don't curse like a sailor but I shouldn't be cursing at all. Lately, when frustrated, instead of cursing I grunt or growl... grrrr. I haven't paid much attention to how often I do this until I was getting onto Grant the other day and he growled at me!

WORDS... finally!

Grant has been slow to talk. Of course, me being the overbearing protective mom that I am, have taken him to specialists and had tests run. He is fine. Just not ready to talk yet... for the most part. However, he has started talking quite a bit more in the last few months and it is so stinking cute! His FAVORITE words are uh-oh and oh no! I hear them more than anything. His newest one is yoo-hoo (the drink). It comes out hoo hoo. Wait a minute is "min a minute" and Trigger is "tri tri". He surprised me last week by saying noodle. Plain and clear. I asked him if he wanted noodles for supper and he replied with "noodles?" He sounded like Mr. Ping from Kung Fu Panda. I thought it was so cute, I asked him to say it over and over again. Now I can't get him to say it at all... Oh well!

My Dad aka Putty...

When I was a kid, I could not have paid my father to watch a cartoon. Don't get me wrong. He would watch them on occasion, but most times we were required to watch what he wanted to watch (usually sports) or go to the other room to watch tv. Grant walks through the front door, and like machine work, dad changes the chanel to sprout or cartoon network. Last night, mom and I went to a ladies' church function. Dad and Grant stayed home. We were gone for about 2 hours. When we got back, Mom asked if Grant was good while we were gone... of course Pap-paw's little angel was perfect. When mom asked what they did... get this... dad said they sat in the recliner together and watched cartoons!!! Yep.... PUTTY!

Uncle Ronny

We laid uncle Ronny to rest Monday, August 1, 2011. He was Danny's uncle, but my uncle too. He was a special man. Special in more ways than one. You see, Uncle Ronny had special needs, but anyone that knew him, won't remember him that way. They will remember him for his huge smile, his silly big ears, and for the love he had for his family. One Thanksgiving I had the pleasure of taking Danny's Granny and Uncle Ronny to Aunt Jan's house. Uncle Ronny could not wait for the turkey to be done and for Pat, Michelle and Danny to get there. He was proud of his family... even Grant. Anytime I saw him, the first question out of his mouth was always 'where's the baby?" He thought Grant was "soo purdy" and he loved to play with him. Ronny was a simple man, too. He took great pleasure in watching the weather and keeping us all advised of the forecast. He found pleasure in the smallest things. One Christmas, I drew his name for the gift exchange. When I asked him what he wanted, his reply was colored underwear. Colored underwear?!? "Yes," he explained, "all the other men in the home (nursing home) wear white." He wanted to be different. Of course I bought them for him and he was oh so proud! You would have thought I had given him a fortune. Uncle Ronny kept us grounded. Reminded us to be thankful for the simple things in life, and helped us to laugh. No one will ever be able to tell the nanny goat joke like him. Christmas won't be the same, either. He absolutely could not wait to open his presents. "Momma, is it time to open presents, yet? Momma, tell them to hurry. Momma, can I open mine?" Rest in peace, Ronnie Dean. We love and miss you.