NASCAR

So, if Jeff Gordon gets the pole tomorrow, does the dancer come with it?

Phraseology

I love the way Jonathan says things. He has such a unique way of expressing himself. Two recent examples...

Today Jonathan has a band festival at Oak Canyon. I told him on Sunday that he needed to make sure that his Grandpa and Grandma Belnap knew about the festival. He was practicing his sax and clarinet in a spare bedroom at Parley and Bona's on Sunday. Bona poked her head in to listen for a minute. She came out laughing and quoting Jonathan, "For your information, I have a band festival on Wednesday, March 26th at 9:30 a.m. at Oak Canyon". Bona couldn't get over the "For your information" part.

Second, I think it's great that I have a twelve year old who is still willing to talk to me about anything (except for who he eats lunch with). I hope he continues sharing his thoughts, feelings, and concerns for years to come (even though often the stuff he shares with me is TMI for me- stuff that I wish he'd share with Dan and then Dan could share it with me). Anyway, a couple of weeks ago, Jonathan was watching the Percussion Ensemble prepare for 6th Grade Day at Oak Canyon. He came home and said "Mom, weird stuff is happening to me- stuff that's never happened before. Girls are 'fawning' over me". "Fawning"? Haven't heard that for a while. Anyway, he got a big ego boost when he noticed a girl (thankfully) in the Percussion Ensemble staring and waving at him (and she was even a 9th grader).

I'll have to keep my ears open for more Jonathanisms and keep recording them.

Secrets

Secrets are dangerous things. Ever notice how when someone tells you their secret and you promise not to tell ANYONE, then the temptation to blab it is nearly irrepressible? I know a secret and I'm bursting to tell, but no! My lips are sealed. I know from past experience that the urge to share the secret exponentially decreases after about 48 hours, but when the secret keeps on getting juicier by the minute... then dang! It's hard. I will prevail. I will not tell. Nope, don't bother to ask me what it is because the only thing I may tell the secret to is Nolan's stuffed cat. Maybe telling Haley will reduce my urge to destroy someone's confidence in me and to become a gossip.

The Funniest Story Ever

It's been a long time since I've blogged, but there really hasn't been anything going. I've had zero to write about, until yesterday!

Aly, Amy, Leslie, and I decided to have lunch together yesterday (because I didn't want to substitute for Nolan's class and a "Sisters" lunch was a great excuse). We met at the BYU Museum of Art and ate in their cafe. I got the monster-super-sized-beyond-turbo-big veggie sandwich and ate it all (except for the feta, 'shrooms, and spinach). Immediately after eating, Amy bailed on us to go to class. Aly needed to get something from the bookstore for her independent study class so Leslie and I were going to go with her. Before we left the museum, I decided that I needed to pee. We found the bathroom. It was empty of any users. Aly went in stall #1; Leslie went in stall #3; I chose stall #6. We are doing our business when I hear someone to the left of me (presumably Leslie) fart. I called out, nice and clearly, "I heard that!" Anyway, Aly and I finished at about the same time and were washing up when we realized that the door to stall #4 was shut and there were white shoes showing from under the door. Aly and I start silently busting our guts laughing. Leslie comes rushing out, washes as fast as humanly possible and charges out the bathroom door. We all fall to pieces laughing. I'm so glad I could call to everyone's attention that the lady in stall #4 was having an intestinal issue. I think I may be responsible for the user of stall #4 developing a phobia of using public restrooms. Leslie thinks, that at the very least, that poor woman is going to need therapy for the rest of her life.