Because We Are Of Great Value

Do you remember when razor scooters first came out and they were all the rage and every cool kid had them? You know the one with the commercial of an 11 year old boy bunny hopping over a furbie then giving his friend that kicked one around in a 360 a high five? Yeah those ones. We begged and begged my parents for one, hanging on their ankles while they walked around Wal-Mart. The answer was no every time. I am sure they could see us riding around the house on one, damaging more walls then we already had. (PS mom and dad, Mitchell and Alisha rammed Alisha's wheelchair into the wall and took quite the chunk with them. So there are worse things than a scooter.) Finally my dad caved and bought us a couple scooters, when he backed into the backyard (Because my dad backs in more then he pulls forward.) we all ran outside to attack his trunk, fighting over who got to ride them first. When he opened the trunk, our eyes watered up and spilled over, but not with tears of happiness. We had some other brand of scooter, it was not a razor, it would not automatically induct us into the hall of cool. This was sure to send us packing to the janitorial closet every day after school so that no one knew the "Wolverine" scooters from 7-11 (Yes the gas station) were ours. We rode them around the backyard on makeshift ramps and roads made with chalk for an hour before we started to hear a loud scraping noise, we checked underneath to find that since the handlebars wouldn't lock straight up, the bottom of the scooter was dragging on the ground, carving lines into the pavement. We rolled our eyes and continued trying to bunny hop over Shanna's furbie. Ten minutes later we broke off a piece of the base where you place your feet, it wasn't made of shiny metal with a radical design like the razor's, it was a plastic base that could only support twenty pounds and we were far beyond that limit. Being sick of trying to attempt to ride that, we went inside and did something way more productive called hide and seek blindfolded and in a full sprint. Moral of the story, if you happen to be at a gas station and see the knock off brand of something your kids are begging for, don't buy it. Spend the extra ten dollars on the real brand because if not, a kid slamming into a giant cabinet door while playing hide and go seek in the dark is actually going to cost you a little bit more... especially when they try to hot glue it back together...



**Disclaimer** My parents have bought us LOTS of nice things, razor scooters and Nintendo64 just didn't fit into the category of things they wanted to spend their money on.

Mehhh

I stole this from BreeAnn's blog because I realized I had only blogged once this month.

I often. . . eat cereal for every meal possible.
I have . . . too many shoes and five email accounts dedicated to junk mail.
I fear . . . being eaten by a giant T-Rex because I can't escape fast enough in my moon boots.
I feel . . . Like eating another five hundred hand fulls of Swedish Fish
I hear . . . OK GO
I smell . . . Swedish fish and cheap perfume
I hate. . . meetings and sadhappy movies.
I think. . . I might get a contractors licence and become an architect.
I want. . . to go to Disneyland and a pair of pink chucks.
I always. . . pretend I am talking to Shelbie when I am subliminally asking Nick to do something.
I am not. . . Captain Underpants
I am like . . . an annoying midget that runs circles around your legs while kicking you in the shins.
I believe. . . that weiner dog Paul is a human trapped inside of a dogs body.
I don't always. . . exaggerate... :)
I am happy that. . . I beat Mitchell at a headstand competition AGAIN. Undefeated.
I win. . . at any and every headstand competition and knee war.
I lose. . . EVERYTHING. Keys, phone, important documents, you name it I lose it.
I never. . . want to cut my hair.
I need. . . a navy blue Yankees hat.
I listen. . . but pretend not to. Selective hearing is such a good gift to have.
I am scared of. . . Dinosaurs, Tornados, and Volcanoes. I wouldn't have survived in the stone age.
I read. . .all.the.time. Bookworm? Guilty.
I am . . . Stressed/Hungry/peeved that I blogged twice this month/excited to be an aunt to baby Bo.

Because a piece of my heart is in Logan

Apologies for the scarcity of posts, my favorite brother has left the nest to live it up in Logan for school. Even though the past few weeks I have seen him just as much as I usually do, it isn't the same. He threatens to "go home" just to feel that Mizz Independent feeling knowing that his home is now an hour and a half away and he also loves to hear us all beg for him to stay. Mitchell is one funny guy, I am not going to lie. Out of respect for my father, I wont post the most recent act of hilarity that involved water, a beach and a size XL bikini top, that deeply disturbed my family members and sent a shock wave through the Facebook world. However, me being the photographer, I find them to be completely hilarious and all out of fun. Mitchell always loves to be the center of attention and you are constantly finding him yelling out crude phrases or inappropriate remarks about David Bowie in spandex just to give that small shock factor. I have got to hand it to Mitchell though, he survived a house full of 4 sisters, a mom AND a female dog and with my dad out of town for work, he was forced to be the only male. So there Mitchell is, trying to keep afloat in the estrogen pool, fighting against the tide of drama. He has always been such a good sport, we love making music videos at our house and Mitchell has always had to play the part of a female, even if there is a male in the song. Why you ask? Have any of you ever seen Mitchell's dance moves, let alone what he looks like in a spandex bodysuit?