<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910</id><updated>2012-02-15T10:35:53.857-07:00</updated><category term='dancing girls'/><title type='text'>A Blog</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>138</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-353065976923809851</id><published>2012-02-15T10:26:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2012-02-15T10:35:53.877-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pork Flavored Dairy.</title><content type='html'>At the Valentine's Day party at Kate's school, Suzy was in charge of bringing some of the treats. She made some type of Greek yogurt dish involving strawberries (they're into healthy food at the school). She had them all made, and was putting them together in the Kitchen when she turned around, into Jace. As she was telling me about this on the phone, she said, "I turned around and kicked Jace across the kitchen."  I'm afraid my first instinct was to laugh at the picture of little Jace flying across the kitchen with a look of surprise on his face.  It was really more of a turn into him and he falls down (not really hurt except feelings wise).  Also, she dropped the yogurts. And had to start over, go and change and get Jace to stop trying to clean it up (which he is very good about doing) since he was mostly just rubbing the yogurt around and into the carpet.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had made one cup of only strawberries for one girl in the class with dairy issues. Surprisingly, another girl had questions about the contents of the Yogurt. Specifically, "Does this have any pork in it? I'm not allowed to eat Pork."  Suzy, calmly told her no, this does not have Pork in it. Then enjoyed quite the laugh with the other adults once this sweet child was not longer paying attention.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-353065976923809851?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/353065976923809851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=353065976923809851' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/353065976923809851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/353065976923809851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2012/02/pork-flavored-dairy.html' title='Pork Flavored Dairy.'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-2603386368273546892</id><published>2012-02-15T10:15:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2012-02-15T10:26:50.154-07:00</updated><title type='text'>V-Day Romance</title><content type='html'>So Kate has had a series of plans involving marriage (she started early).  Originally it was to marry her friend Shae.  She then moved on to an older boy named Garrett. Since she's started Kindergarten, she has moved her focus to a boy in her class named River. In one of her first PE classes, he came in #1 in the run around the playground and Kate came in 2nd. I originally thought it was because she was so fast, but now I wonder if she didn't have some additional motivation.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Suzy was at the Valentine's day party and happened to be talking to River's mom. She let her know that Kate fancied her son (which I don't think was much of a secret, River was Kate's lone friend she invited to play with her at Wings).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;River's Mom told Kate that the other day River started asking about weddings (apparently there was a magazine open to a wedding dress picture).  River's mom let him know that usually the women chooses much of the wedding "stuff".  She jokingly said something about having to find the right girl first.  At that point, River said, "oh, I already know who I'm going to marry.  I love Kate. But I can't tell her yet because I would get teased at school". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahhhhh, Young Love. Isn't it great? Luckily, with Kate's track record, we're not too worried that this will move into series dating.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-2603386368273546892?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/2603386368273546892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=2603386368273546892' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/2603386368273546892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/2603386368273546892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2012/02/pork-and-love.html' title='V-Day Romance'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-2834108435348286876</id><published>2012-02-12T17:44:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2012-02-12T18:18:33.932-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I want to remember about my kids.</title><content type='html'>Jace is a hitter. Not in the baseball sense, unless one assumes he sees all others as the ball and himself as the bat. And by himself I mean all of himself. His head, his hand, his whole body.  He constantly has bruises on his forehead (headbutting), the most recent was from a table at a local restaurant. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When does he utilize this "talent"? Usually either when he's tired, or when someone has taken away something Jace shouldn't have, that he wants. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are some good things Jace does? He loves books and balls.  He can be very loving and nice, and when he sees someone who is hurt will go up and give them a hug.  He laughs easily, whether with Peek-a-boo or when being spun or throwing in the air.  He generally goes to sleep pretty well (in his crib, or the car seat).  He does yell in the car fairly often. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate continues to grow up and her initial personality has held true. She's fairly obedient and usually thinks of others. She loves to do service (whether it's a nice note for someone or making our bed on the very rare occasion it's not already made of course).  She too often stretches the truth though.  She's very into the "Oh, I forgot" or "that was an accident" excuses.  She does NOT like getting in trouble (really, who does).  She loves to play with her sister Faith. They have a good relationship. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Faith loves her sister and wants to be just like her and do everything she does.  Suzy was recently asking her who she wanted as the friend to do something with on her birthday, and all the answers were Kate's friends (who often don't give her the time of day unfortunately).  She's also tall for her age, and so it's sometimes hard to remember how young she is.  She's very good at making Jace laugh. She's his favorite. She's very patient with him and a great big sister.  According to Suzy (who knows), she has a knack for dancing.  When she's in a happy mood, she's so compliant and eager to please.  She's pretty sensitive and will (of the children) most easily get her feelings hurt.  She's also the most stubborn when she get's something in her head. Although, recently we've had some break throughs where she was able to be reasoned with so we hope she continues to grow into that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-2834108435348286876?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/2834108435348286876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=2834108435348286876' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/2834108435348286876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/2834108435348286876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2012/02/things-i-want-to-remember-about-my-kids.html' title='Things I want to remember about my kids.'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-5986437713512466016</id><published>2012-02-12T16:58:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2012-02-12T17:43:38.262-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The 6th Sense</title><content type='html'>Not everyone is blessed with a 6th sense. Some people are. In fact, it may be more common than you think.  Many people brag about this 6th sense. In fact, next to liking long walks on the beach and having a job, it's the number 3 most looked for attribute in a potential online mate.  At least by the female of the species.  What is this mysterious 6th sense? The much coveted sense of humor.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suzy has gobs of this 6th Sense.  She has it in spades.  If there was a definition of "a tonne of sense of humor" (probably in a Canadian dictionary, since they spell Ton wrong), it would simply say Suzy Garrett.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just as D&amp;C 50:22 seems to insinuate, sometimes it takes two to tango. Or in this case a number larger than 1.  I guess one person can have a sense of humor, but it has the ability to exponentially increase in fun if the number involved is more than 1.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, it seems that some people are not as blessed as my wife with a keen wit. She was in some kind of Relief Society meeting the other day (on emotional well being apparently). &lt;br /&gt;One lady asked, "If you're feeling Anger, is it ever appropriate to voice that emotion?"&lt;br /&gt;Suzy, realizing this is a chance to lighten the mood slightly and make it easier for others to speak about this sensitive subject, immediately popped out with, "Testimony meeting is a great place to voice your anger".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point, I must insert a brief aside, as I'm wont to do on occasion (if by occasion one means constantly).  The Nestlers recently moved into our ward. Some people who know Suzy, and have known Suzy for a long while (especially growing up), know that Suzy is funny and is often not serious.  Those who are "johnny come latelys" to Suzy (or more likely "Janey come latelys" since I tend to rip off the lips johnny come latelys who are hitting on my wife and shove those lips in inappropriate places) sometimes don't understand that she is not being serious when she says something. That can, at times, be somewhat awkward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Case in point, when she returned home from her mission, she gave her homecoming address in a new ward (her parents had moved).  The people in the audience didn't laugh. Or smile.  I won't comment on the fact that this may be because this was in an Eagle ward and such a ward may take itself a tad too seriously since that may give offense.  She soon after that gave her talk in the ward she grew up in, and had the audience in stitches.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now my sense of humor is universally appreciable. By males everywhere.  Or pretty much anyone under the age of 8 (my girls think it's pretty funny when I have them pull my finger and then toot).  Suzy has a much more witty sense of humor which can at times even be slightly on the dry side.  Needless to say, she's hilarious. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to Nicole N.  Nicole totally gets Suzy.  In fact, as soon as Suzy had made the comment about expressing your anger in Testimony meeting, she burst out loudly laughing. And soon realized she was the only one.  Yes, many of the ladies just looked askance at Suzy.  Awkward.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-5986437713512466016?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/5986437713512466016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=5986437713512466016' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/5986437713512466016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/5986437713512466016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2012/02/6th-sense.html' title='The 6th Sense'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-8211530292453617670</id><published>2012-02-08T21:03:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2012-02-08T21:05:40.881-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Green Smoothies</title><content type='html'>Suzy made one of her famous green smoothies this evening to accompany dinner.  Jace really liked this one! (Pinapple, Oranges, and Spinach). I think we got a look-ahead to what Jace could look like with facial hair. If he's into dying it. Green.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--OpgM6cBrD8/TzNFwbqUVNI/AAAAAAAABvE/Ku6a-UKJh8E/s1600/Jaces%2BGreen%2BSmoothie%2B012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--OpgM6cBrD8/TzNFwbqUVNI/AAAAAAAABvE/Ku6a-UKJh8E/s400/Jaces%2BGreen%2BSmoothie%2B012.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706981851169838290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YchijQcxZOo/TzNFwMie9kI/AAAAAAAABu4/zN9AfrhypcM/s1600/Jaces%2BGreen%2BSmoothie%2B008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YchijQcxZOo/TzNFwMie9kI/AAAAAAAABu4/zN9AfrhypcM/s400/Jaces%2BGreen%2BSmoothie%2B008.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706981847110448706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-8211530292453617670?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/8211530292453617670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=8211530292453617670' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/8211530292453617670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/8211530292453617670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2012/02/green-smoothies.html' title='Green Smoothies'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--OpgM6cBrD8/TzNFwbqUVNI/AAAAAAAABvE/Ku6a-UKJh8E/s72-c/Jaces%2BGreen%2BSmoothie%2B012.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-5600389060375651916</id><published>2012-02-08T19:43:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2012-02-08T21:02:46.678-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Exotic Locations</title><content type='html'>We recently took a fun family trip. To Idaho Falls! In February! Yeah! Actually, it wasn't half bad.  Or even 3/4ths bad.  We left about 8:30 on a Thursday night so that the kids would sleep most of the way, and they did. Oddly enough, about 45 minutes before we arrived (we pulled into the hotel about 12:30am) the kids all woke up. They just sat there in a stupor though. We also listened to Tennis shoes Among the Nephites (a Book on CD).  Kate really liked it, Faith wanted Suzy to keep reading "Sideways Stories from Wayside School" (which she'd been periodically reading to them over the past week or so). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, at some point in the trip the girls (who for some reason eschew coats far too often) were getting into the car.  &lt;br /&gt;Faith (who's teeth were chattering) "I'm Jiggling Lots"&lt;br /&gt;Kate, "Yeah, I'm shivering non-stoppable". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were there for Suzy's cousin's wedding. It was very nice and all that (I stayed with the kids, so I guess I hear it was nice).  It was also actually pretty warm. &lt;br /&gt;This was basically the view from the Red Lion Inn we stayed at, except that there wasn't much greenery since it was winter. I'll upload some actual pictures when we get them off the camera at some point.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4ElD1lWhDL4/TzM1SA6ikRI/AAAAAAAABug/qiSGxzTwRPI/s1600/IDaho%2BFalls%2BTemple.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 257px; height: 196px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4ElD1lWhDL4/TzM1SA6ikRI/AAAAAAAABug/qiSGxzTwRPI/s400/IDaho%2BFalls%2BTemple.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706963736408002834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate was absolutely amazed that there were water falls.  She kept asking why they were called Idaho Falls.  And also saying, "I can't believe Idaho has Falls!".  There was this cool bass reverberation going on at the viewing point.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jace (and everyone else) did very well on the way back as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's an actual picture:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ceGL4AKYOFo/TzNFB5b_cZI/AAAAAAAABus/B-advu35-Uo/s1600/Idaho%2BFalls%2B050.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ceGL4AKYOFo/TzNFB5b_cZI/AAAAAAAABus/B-advu35-Uo/s400/Idaho%2BFalls%2B050.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706981051708961170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-5600389060375651916?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/5600389060375651916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=5600389060375651916' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/5600389060375651916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/5600389060375651916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2012/02/exotic-locations.html' title='Exotic Locations'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4ElD1lWhDL4/TzM1SA6ikRI/AAAAAAAABug/qiSGxzTwRPI/s72-c/IDaho%2BFalls%2BTemple.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-2284237973757080930</id><published>2012-01-27T22:25:00.013-07:00</published><updated>2012-02-08T21:13:52.980-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Riverside Grill</title><content type='html'>Tonight we had quite the interesting experience at dinner.  Suzy had previously purchased a restaurant.com certificate for a place called, "Riverside Grill". Which was a restaurant inside the Doubletree Inn.  You know it was going to be classy. With the restaurant.com gift certificate you have to spend a certain amount to get the 50% off.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should have suspected something when I called, and asked if we needed a reservation and the girl on the other end of the phone said "No, we're not very busy."  I thought, well, at least then there will be no one to hear our kids make noise (by kids I mostly mean Jace, who is very loud these days).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrive, and by no one to hear Jace yell, I mean NO ONE. There was one other group at the far end of the eating area.  The waitress brings the menus. Which we later compare and notice have different prices on them for each item.  We ask the waitress if there's a kids menu. Her response? "I don't know, let me ask."  Hmmm...she doesn't know if they have kids menus?&lt;br /&gt;Later on, after we have the kids menus, and have asked her for a high chair for Jace we ask if the kids meals come with drinks. &lt;br /&gt;Courtney (her name), "I don't know."  Not, let me find out. Just I don't know. You'll notice a theme here.  &lt;br /&gt;"Do the entrees come with a side?" &lt;br /&gt;Courtney "I don't know."&lt;br /&gt;Can I get some kind of cup that Jace can drink out of?&lt;br /&gt;Courtney "Sure" (never brings it)&lt;br /&gt;I go up and ask for a paper cup. To her credit, she did give me a straw that I didn't ask for.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turns out it was her first night working there. We also figured that she was probably home schooled (no offense of course) and had never been out to eat. Or had a job.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She brought out the desserts (we had $10 more that we needed to use up before the discount hit).  There were two platters of desserts. We started asking, what is that one?&lt;br /&gt;Courtney "I don't know"  &lt;br /&gt;Finally, I think she realized that "I don't know" is not really the response someone is looking for. I had just pointed to one and asked if it was some kind of Ice Cream/custardy thing. Courtney "No, maybe Bread with frosting."&lt;br /&gt;We finally asked her to go find out what the deserts were. After she came back, she was able to fill us in (it was a lemon custard type desert by the way).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She brought us the bill. It was about 1/3rd of what it should be. We should have just left it at that, but we mentioned that to her and 20 minutes later they finally brought us the correct, much more expensive bill.  With no thanks for pointing out that they had almost let us go for pennies on the dollar. Or at least 33.3cents on the dollar.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We realized that this was not entirely Courtney's fault, since it appears that the other two workers there weren't giving her much direction (despite her obviously home schooled past, again, no offense. I was home schooled. Which isn't saying much, and that probably just gave home schoolers more offense than anything else which I've written).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, the Caesar Salad I ordered came with a side of Sour Cream and Chives. And cherry tomatoes.  And some really soft croutons. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was also surprised that Jace's corn dog (yes, we ordered a vegetable dish for him (corn) since we're helping him eat not just what he wants, but also super healthy) wasn't too hot. I thought that was weird, since usually you have to let that kind of thing cool off.  Turns out it was still cold inside. Luckily hot dogs are fully cooked, so we just went with it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After about half way through, we just started enjoying the experience for the experience's sake.  We were laughing quite a bit. Poor Courtney. And poor Riverside Grill (Inside the Riverside/Doubletree Inn).  Anyway, it was worth it just for the laughs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-2284237973757080930?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/2284237973757080930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=2284237973757080930' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/2284237973757080930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/2284237973757080930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2012/01/riverside-grill.html' title='The Riverside Grill'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-877526991651641682</id><published>2012-01-27T22:09:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-27T22:24:58.438-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Patience</title><content type='html'>At Church on Sunday, one of Faith's teachers came up and let me know that she'd said the prayer that day in class.  Some of her prayers are pretty funny. She'll start randomly looking around the room and include things she sees in the prayer (we're still working on the whole close your eyes while you pray thing). I was quite interested to hear what he had to say about it.  &lt;br /&gt;What did she pray for? At least the part he remembered? That her parents would have more patience.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suzy was playing the piano at Mutual on Wednesday night.  Turns out someone naughty had gotten a hold of a Marker and written some not very nice things on the piano keys (one letter on each key). At first Suzy thought "That's cute, someone wrote the musical notes on the keys so they can find them". Then, once she really looked at it, it was more of an "Oh My Word!" kind of thing. Anyway, she then asked the young men's president to get one of the young men to find something to clean it off.  Later, that young man came up to her and said, "Sorry you had to see those words written on the keys."  Suzy was quite impressed with his consideration, and expressed her thanks.  &lt;br /&gt;Then he finished his thought, "Yeah, Brother Johnson was wondering if that was the reason you were having such trouble with the song."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are kids great. And honest. Sometimes. When they probably shouldn't be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-877526991651641682?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/877526991651641682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=877526991651641682' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/877526991651641682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/877526991651641682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2012/01/patience.html' title='Patience'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-4884742951108965632</id><published>2012-01-11T09:21:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-11T09:56:22.780-07:00</updated><title type='text'>foodies</title><content type='html'>I didn't get home until fairly late last night, so I missed dinner with the family. Suzy filled me in though. She made yummy tortilla soup.  The kids had some interesting reactions.&lt;br /&gt;1) Jace, who is super picky loved it. He is learning how to eat by himself (okay, so sometimes we let him eat by himself, I don't know how much actual learning occurs). He even asked for a second bowl (although we should have made him finish the first bowl, which was mostly on his clothes).&lt;br /&gt;2) Faith said, "Yeah mommy! I love soup!" and then ate 2 bites and declared she was done.&lt;br /&gt;3) Kate threw a hissy fit.  She REFUSED to eat such disgusting food.  Suzy took her food away and let her know when she was ready to be grateful, she could have it back. She spent the next 10 minutes going through various "constipated" expressions as she tried so hard to force those hated words out of her mouth, but just couldn't do it. Finally, after much drama, she expressed her thanks. Then proceeded to lick the bowl clean and ask for more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor Suzy, she has to deal with these kinds of situations almost on a daily basis.  I just don't know where these kids could have gotten their pickiness.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-4884742951108965632?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/4884742951108965632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=4884742951108965632' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/4884742951108965632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/4884742951108965632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2012/01/foodies.html' title='foodies'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-5779511779228835827</id><published>2012-01-03T18:39:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-03T18:54:16.270-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Santa</title><content type='html'>Kate is just on the cusp of not believing in Santa.  We do a tradition called Elf on the Shelf (many of you may have heard of it). Anyway, there's this cute little elf, included with a book. The Elf magically moves around each night to a different location, where he will watch the kids. At night is when he goes and reports to Santa on how the kids were that day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year, Kate was asking "Is McGiggle (his name) real?" (As she looks very closely at his face) "His face looks like plastic to me" &lt;br /&gt;Suzy, "I don't know, what do you think?" &lt;br /&gt;Kate, "Well, he moves around at night, so I guess he's real."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suzy often does this (avoids the subject at this point).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were watching some Christmas movie (I can't remember what it was) and the parents were filling the kid's stockings.  Kate pipes up, "Why are the parents filling their stockings and not Santa?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, here's a picture of the plate of goodies that Santu &lt;Santa spelled phonetically&gt; was left. He sure enjoyed them, in fact the only thing that was left was part of a marshmallow. Which Jace ate while we were opening presents. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RvuQ-gOWtSM/TwOuDR52jnI/AAAAAAAABuU/h_xhGN00ffo/s1600/IMG-20111224-00306.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RvuQ-gOWtSM/TwOuDR52jnI/AAAAAAAABuU/h_xhGN00ffo/s400/IMG-20111224-00306.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693585725295332978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-5779511779228835827?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/5779511779228835827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=5779511779228835827' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/5779511779228835827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/5779511779228835827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2012/01/santa.html' title='Santa'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RvuQ-gOWtSM/TwOuDR52jnI/AAAAAAAABuU/h_xhGN00ffo/s72-c/IMG-20111224-00306.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-3334190350416120929</id><published>2012-01-03T18:34:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-03T18:38:38.341-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fun Christmas Sweaters</title><content type='html'>Suzy recently raided her Mom's stash of special Christmas Sweaters.  She wore one of them to Church. They all have super fun designs.  She wore one that had matching sweater pants to our Ugly Christmas Sweater party.  Some of the others have fun things, like snowman buttons, or jingle bells. Also, included is a picture of Faith in a fun Christmas sweater.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oo_4ylGWOQ0/TwOtJmK7D6I/AAAAAAAABuI/OI0G33-21wk/s1600/IMG-20111222-00305.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oo_4ylGWOQ0/TwOtJmK7D6I/AAAAAAAABuI/OI0G33-21wk/s400/IMG-20111222-00305.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693584734303227810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LFVBYxB89zg/TwOs54Cw7BI/AAAAAAAABt8/vXt80E2vUj0/s1600/IMG-20111211-00302.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LFVBYxB89zg/TwOs54Cw7BI/AAAAAAAABt8/vXt80E2vUj0/s400/IMG-20111211-00302.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693584464222940178" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-3334190350416120929?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/3334190350416120929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=3334190350416120929' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/3334190350416120929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/3334190350416120929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2012/01/fun-christmas-sweaters.html' title='Fun Christmas Sweaters'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oo_4ylGWOQ0/TwOtJmK7D6I/AAAAAAAABuI/OI0G33-21wk/s72-c/IMG-20111222-00305.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-3105562472165563673</id><published>2012-01-03T18:01:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-11T10:03:46.734-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year!</title><content type='html'>Yeah! It's the first blog post of 2012! I was on my way home from work, asking Suzy about her day.  She's been working on taking down the Christmas decorations, which means she hasn't been able to keep an eagle eye on the Children like usual.  Which lead to her wondering why Jace had stopped following her everywhere and whining for her to hold him. Turns out he'd found something else to entertain himself for a short period of time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was in the living room pulling bread out of a baby wipes box. Which may lead you to ask the question, how did bread get into a baby wipes box.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The answer? Apparently Faith had put it there. All the bread from a new loaf.  Why you may ask? Your guess is as good as mine. For some reason it seemed like a good idea at the time.  but really, WHY!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Further in the phone call, this happened, &lt;br /&gt;Mike "So Suz, what else happened today."&lt;br /&gt;Suzy "Well, I got quite a bit done on taking down...uh oh"&lt;br /&gt;Mike, "WHAT! ARE YOU OKAY??? ARE YOU BEING ATTACKED BY GIANT TIGER ALIENS FROM VENUS? WHAT IS IT?"&lt;br /&gt;Suzy (obviously not talking to me, nor paying attention to my urgent pleas for information) "Okay, who wiped ANOTHER booger on the wall!" &lt;some discussion occurs which I can't completely hear&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suzy "Kate, come up here and clean this up now."&lt;br /&gt;Mike, "Uh...should I let you go?"&lt;br /&gt;Suzy (with a regretful tone, back to listening to me again) "probably"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, this was one of the days I was happy that I don't spend 97.84% of my time with the kids. Who I dearly love, and love to see, but I also enjoy doing other things at times. One reason I'm very, very Grateful for Suzy. Despite days like this, she loves being a Mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps - Faith fell out of a chair again today.  Kate and Faith are going to love it when I show this post to future boyfriends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-3105562472165563673?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/3105562472165563673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=3105562472165563673' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/3105562472165563673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/3105562472165563673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2012/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year!'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-6108165424474154372</id><published>2011-12-14T09:04:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-12-14T09:16:58.409-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bananas</title><content type='html'>A while back Suzy was peeling a banana and noticed that Jace seemed interested.  She sat down on the floor and fed it to him. Ever since then, whenever Jace sees a banana being peeled, he sits down on the floor to wait for his banana. It's pretty cute.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-6108165424474154372?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/6108165424474154372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=6108165424474154372' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/6108165424474154372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/6108165424474154372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/12/bananas.html' title='Bananas'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-6770767807851357047</id><published>2011-12-01T21:31:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2011-12-01T21:49:22.963-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh So Fun</title><content type='html'>Tonight was a bit on the interesting side.  I was trying to activate a replacement Credit Card (verifying lots of minutia from my credit report. Such as where I lived when I was in college 10 years ago), when I heard Suzy yelling for me from the bathroom. Nope, she hadn't fallen in the toilet (this time) (or anytime really. I figured I better put this part in just to make sure we're clear, Suzy has never fallen into the toilet to my knowledge), in fact, she was standing over the tub holding Jace up by his arms.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our hero of the first part of the bath (Faith) noticed that there was something floating in the tub that did not appear to be one of the usual toys. This was a problem, since Jace was just in the process of lifting one of these "non-toys" out of the water. Presumably to eat it.  Just in time, Faith let us know that we had a Code Brown on our hands.  Yup, sweet little Jacers had contaminated the tub. With poop.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went ahead and washed Jace's hands and mine (since I was holding his hands while on the phone with a VERY slow and deliberate credit card agent at this point).  It was only after I got off the phone that I realized the full extent of the situation. And that I had been holding onto poopy-boy hands. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Suzy used the handy poop spoon that she keeps for just such an occasion (A tradition that started with Faith I believe).  Then she sanitized the bathtub with bleach, while we all stood around and watched (and discussed the poisonous qualities of bleach, despite the fact that it looks like water).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it was back in the tub! I came and got Jace out after Suzy was done with him, made him a bottle and was trying to put him to bed, when Kate came upstairs and let me know that Faith had started throwing up in the tub. And not just once.  Kate later observed that just thinking about it made her not feel so good.  I added my Amens to that.  She also observed that it had been a very interesting bathing experience that evening.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least no one peed in the tub. Well, that we know of.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-6770767807851357047?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/6770767807851357047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=6770767807851357047' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/6770767807851357047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/6770767807851357047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/12/oh-so-fun.html' title='Oh So Fun'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-9204815069771944821</id><published>2011-11-26T11:50:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-26T11:56:18.715-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cornters</title><content type='html'>I had a companion from my mission who was from Mongolia. He learned some English before he went to the MTC. He was of course taught British English instead of American English, as is most of the world. He would get fairly annoyed with us Americans as we often pronounced our "T" sounds as if it were a "D". Think of the word "Water" for example.  We usually say "wawder" Or in the word Mountain when we just sort of leave the T sound out all together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In pre-school (Grandma's Montessori Pre-school) the girls are taught to say their T sounds properly.  This does make it amusing at home, as they will often insert Ts when there don't have to be. Such as cornter instead of corner. Obviously assuming that their poor "Red Neck" parents aren't aware that the T is there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-9204815069771944821?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/9204815069771944821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=9204815069771944821' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/9204815069771944821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/9204815069771944821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/11/cornters.html' title='Cornters'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-1454105579268510469</id><published>2011-11-26T11:42:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-26T11:49:12.870-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Zombies</title><content type='html'>Faith (today) "It's so weird that Zombies have Pink Shirts"&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;div&gt;Where does she come up with this? Look carefully at the left hand side at the 37 sec, 58 sec and 1:45sec marks and you'll see a beautiful Zombie in a pink short sleeved shirt with a green long sleeve shirt underneath. Who happens to be Suzy.  This was from Halloween.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe width="500" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/WXasdaBJadA" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-1454105579268510469?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/1454105579268510469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=1454105579268510469' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/1454105579268510469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/1454105579268510469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/11/zombies.html' title='Zombies'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/WXasdaBJadA/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-1674613326486726202</id><published>2011-11-22T19:08:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-22T19:25:26.557-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh So Helpful</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YrNGud1bmEw/TsxWQ-F5kTI/AAAAAAAABtw/xJvJyln4I2o/s1600/IMG-20111122-00294.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YrNGud1bmEw/TsxWQ-F5kTI/AAAAAAAABtw/xJvJyln4I2o/s400/IMG-20111122-00294.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5678008079752991026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-amG4DhnEKV0/TsxWQYbJESI/AAAAAAAABtk/fIU08cBZNSE/s1600/IMG-20111122-00293.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-amG4DhnEKV0/TsxWQYbJESI/AAAAAAAABtk/fIU08cBZNSE/s400/IMG-20111122-00293.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5678008069641539874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qbvFtjNDM7c/TsxWQYorQwI/AAAAAAAABtY/onqAMfsabtI/s1600/IMG-20111122-00291.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qbvFtjNDM7c/TsxWQYorQwI/AAAAAAAABtY/onqAMfsabtI/s400/IMG-20111122-00291.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5678008069698306818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jace is at a really fun age. He's does lots of super cute things. He's also at that age where he loves to explore new things. Like opening a box of cereal himself. And emptying it. On the floor.  And then eating the cereal.  Luckily Monday is "Mopping Monday" so Suzy had just done the floors (not that dirt, or toilets would stop him from partaking).  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You'll also notice that the girls are happily stuffing their faces as fast as possible. You'd think they were starving (I will admit this was just before dinner).  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You will also notice how pleased Jace looks in picture #1.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Suzy and I were both in the kitchen, mere feet away. He has this special talent. Just after dinner, Suzy and I were in the Kitchen cleaning up when I looked over to see that he'd already emptied out half a box of baby wipes.  Among his favorite activities is to wait for one of the girls to leave the downstairs bathroom door open so he can go splash in the toilet (luckily most of the time it's flushed), wait until he is free from direct parent intervention (say, said parent was taking a shower) and empty all the bathroom draws.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On a side note, I also tried an experiment to determine Jace's favorite things.  He likes working electronics (aka, IPADs or Touch screen blackberrys) over balls. He likes knives over balls, but working electronics over knives (and other sharp objects).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He just came into the office running with Scissors, which he grabbed out of the dishwasher (Suzy was chasing him down, he barely made it).  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;FUN! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-1674613326486726202?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/1674613326486726202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=1674613326486726202' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/1674613326486726202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/1674613326486726202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/11/oh-so-helpful.html' title='Oh So Helpful'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YrNGud1bmEw/TsxWQ-F5kTI/AAAAAAAABtw/xJvJyln4I2o/s72-c/IMG-20111122-00294.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-32348542103332749</id><published>2011-11-21T19:45:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-21T20:01:29.769-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Keeping Secrets</title><content type='html'>This evening was somewhat indicative of how well my girls keep secrets.  During dinner, (Cooked cabbage,  meatballs with vegetables) Kate all of a sudden pops out with "There's apple juice in it".  I'm not sure what she's referring to at this point.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Suzy filled me in. Kate had noticed that earlier Suzy was putting in some Apple Cider into the cooking cabbage to sweeten it.  Kate had told her that they probably shouldn't tell "daddy" what was in it because then he might not eat it (apparently this "daddy" person is a bit on the picky side, and if he knows there are things in his food that he doesn't like, he may go into dinner with a preconceived notion).  Luckily, I don't mind apple flavored cabbage. In fact, I rather liked it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It being Monday night, apparently Kate had planned a "surprise" lesson.  She couldn't help telling me that there was a surprise lesson, but she was doing a surprising good job of keeping the content secret. That is until she engaged in a game of "guess the surprise" with Faith.  Who, thanks to numerous helpful hints from Kate surprised Kate by guessing the surprise.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Of course, Faith then immediately proceeded to try and tell me, but luckily I didn't hear. That is until she later kept talking about it and revealed that she would be "Eve" and Kate "Adam".  (It was the story of Adam and Eve and the "fruit (symbolized by two apples) in the Garden of Eden. Kate had also drawn a picture to go with it. With a fish and an unspecified animal.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What can I say except that I hope they're this open when they're teenagers.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-32348542103332749?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/32348542103332749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=32348542103332749' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/32348542103332749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/32348542103332749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/11/keeping-secrets.html' title='Keeping Secrets'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-9059257717495064293</id><published>2011-11-18T18:58:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-18T19:06:09.400-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Like Brother Like Sister</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Jace&lt;/span&gt; was sure having fun at dinner tonight. He loves to eat while holding utensils. Unfortunately, he can't use the utensils yet. So he holds the fork/spoon (or Knife if somehow Daddy was allowed into the equation. It was a plastic knife though, from &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ikea&lt;/span&gt;), in one hand while trying to shove food into his mouth using his other hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight was yellow squash lasagna. That's Lasagna that replaces noodles with slices of delicious yellow squash. As Suzy pointed out, noodles absorb liquid, while squash excretes liquid. It was quite &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;liquidish&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Jace&lt;/span&gt; was having a good ole time with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Faith was in a bit of a "mood" (having just been woken up). However, who can resist the allure of laughter upon seeing young &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Jace&lt;/span&gt; happily banging away at his tray (still covered with lasagna) with one hand and stabbing his cup with fork with the other hand all while covered in sauce. Does the trick every time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suzy spent the next half hour going back over her blog with the girls, starting with showing that they were just as messy at that age.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-9059257717495064293?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/9059257717495064293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=9059257717495064293' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/9059257717495064293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/9059257717495064293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/11/like-brother-like-sister.html' title='Like Brother Like Sister'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-3019298592790112844</id><published>2011-11-18T18:39:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-18T21:38:38.108-07:00</updated><title type='text'>10013</title><content type='html'>Kate has recently been suffering from Big Sister Syndrome. This is where a younger sibling (in this case one about 2 years and 15 days younger) follows one around to the point where one wishes one were not so blessed with such siblings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, these feelings that Kate has been experiencing have expressed themselves in quite a negative manner. In fact, Faith has more than once come crying because a certain big sister had been pushing her. Come to find out, Kate was attempting to push Faith out of their room so she could be alone. Faith, never one to give in easily, resists these efforts. We all know what happens when an immovable object is faced with an irresistable force. Actually, upon further reflection, we may not know what happens, but in the case of Kate and Faith, Faith loses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In an attempt to rectify the situation, we've tried various things. Having the girls hold hands and sing "We are Loving and Kind". I think all that did is sour the girls on that song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, Suzy had a good idea. Kate wouldn't be allowed to keep Faith from going in her own room, but maybe she could have another place she could go when she wanted to be alone. In order to expedite this process, Suzy suggested that Kate develop a code word that would let Faith know that she wanted to be alone. Suzy had to leave for Young Womens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate soon asked for a pen and paper, and how to spell the word "Please".&lt;br /&gt;A few minutes later she was ready. She then asked for some tape. If you give a girl a pen and paper, she's going to want some tape to tape it up somewhere. In this case, on the guest bedroom door (the location carefully selected for this "aloneness").&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate had carefully written, "Please ges the pas code". What was the "passcode" (codeword??) that she had selected?&lt;br /&gt;8763941,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think she completely understood the concept.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now Faith was frustrated since she couldn't remember the "passcode" (even though Kate had so nicely told it to her in it's entirety (Kate had it written down, again, carefully)).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps (she later changed it to 100 so Faith could remember it. Then I later saw it written down as 10013).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-3019298592790112844?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/3019298592790112844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=3019298592790112844' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/3019298592790112844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/3019298592790112844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/11/10013.html' title='10013'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-510464588949139364</id><published>2011-11-08T21:25:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-08T21:34:08.127-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tonight</title><content type='html'>We were reading an article in the "&lt;a href="http://lds.org/friend/2011/11?lang=eng"&gt;Friend&lt;/a&gt;" with the girls. After it was over, they had some questions. It went something like this:&lt;div&gt;Kate, "So, if Jesus wanted to, he could move the whole Earth?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Suzy, "Yup."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kate (you can tell she's thinking pretty hard at this point), "So, he would tell it to move and it would just listen to him?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Suzy, "Yes. Who made the Earth?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kate, "Jesus, oh (understanding seems to dawn)."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Faith, "He could destroy the earth. It would go like rrrrrriiiiipppp (as she makes a motion with her hands of the earth's two halves slowly separating.)"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kate (a bit worried at this point), "Would he do that?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Suzy, "I think Jesus loves us and wouldn't want to do that."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kate (in a sort of morbidly excited way), "We wouldn't be on the same half as the Taiwan half, they would be on the other side!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Slight pause in the conversation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kate, "what are we doing tomorrow" (yup, that was the end of that conversation)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-510464588949139364?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/510464588949139364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=510464588949139364' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/510464588949139364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/510464588949139364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/11/tonight.html' title='Tonight'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-8990719513703105821</id><published>2011-10-27T19:40:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-10-27T19:53:15.492-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Cute little helpers</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Jace is at that fun stage where he wants to do everything the older folks do. This includes such things as turning on the dishwasher, putting away dishes (okay, mostly taking them out of the cupboards he can reach), typing on any available keyboard, sitting in chairs, standing on chairs, falling off chairs, putting things in the trash, taking things out of the trash, eating things taken out of the trash. Yup, all the things we do.&lt;br /&gt;Here's a video of him helping us out with pumpkin carving. As you can see, he's already a big helper! Love that little guy. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-5c672c7f5e060235" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v9.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D5c672c7f5e060235%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331633462%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D24217D805433EFF1C4AE9CDCE31093FD4DE329B2.28815852B174F75BD3CFDDAA8935D833B77FD497%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D5c672c7f5e060235%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DucDMI_rnBV78Nh66l8R4MTJOHB0&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v9.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D5c672c7f5e060235%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331633462%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D24217D805433EFF1C4AE9CDCE31093FD4DE329B2.28815852B174F75BD3CFDDAA8935D833B77FD497%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D5c672c7f5e060235%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DucDMI_rnBV78Nh66l8R4MTJOHB0&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-8990719513703105821?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/8990719513703105821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=8990719513703105821' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/8990719513703105821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/8990719513703105821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/10/cute-little-helpers.html' title='Cute little helpers'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-8873090712632798007</id><published>2011-10-15T16:07:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-10-15T16:25:05.788-06:00</updated><title type='text'>New Developments in the Land</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's that exciting time of year. The weather is starting to turn chilly.  The corn mazes are in full swing. Haunted houses are starting to appear. Leaves are starting to turn colors and will soon be falling off trees. Teeth are starting to fall out.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yup, it's fall! A perfect time to concentrate on traditional American Holiday characters. Like the Great pumpkin (Halloween), the Magical Flying Squirrel that guides ships to safety (Columbus Day) and the tooth fairy (Oct 14th, the day Kate's first tooth fell out).  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Never satisfied with doing something fun just once, she pulled out her second loose tooth today. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Tooth fairy visited last night, and Kate ran in this morning to excitedly tell me that she got some loot! We even went and opened her first bank account today in honor of the occasion.  The only drawbacks we've discovered so far are that she'll need her sandwiches chopped up really small (her request), and that she now talks with a slight lisp (my observation).  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also, she kept asking hard questions, like "Dad, did you put the money under my pillow."  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My response? "How much money did you get? What do you want to do with it?" (that's right, skillful misdirection).  She's starting to question the reality of imaginary Characters! I think we'll rent the movie "Tooth Fairy" soon just to reinforce these obviously beneficial delusions. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, what you've all really been waiting for, a picture:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AFyldGsnfCU/TpoFqlQ6xJI/AAAAAAAABl8/Q4b4S7mF8Xk/s1600/Kate%2Bmissing%2B2%2Bteeth.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AFyldGsnfCU/TpoFqlQ6xJI/AAAAAAAABl8/Q4b4S7mF8Xk/s400/Kate%2Bmissing%2B2%2Bteeth.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663845710487536786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-8873090712632798007?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/8873090712632798007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=8873090712632798007' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/8873090712632798007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/8873090712632798007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/10/new-developments-in-land.html' title='New Developments in the Land'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AFyldGsnfCU/TpoFqlQ6xJI/AAAAAAAABl8/Q4b4S7mF8Xk/s72-c/Kate%2Bmissing%2B2%2Bteeth.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-2621345705178630026</id><published>2011-10-15T16:04:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-10-26T16:28:39.751-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Other stuff</title><content type='html'>Kate "I sure like to ride my bike in the Gut" - Gutter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We were talking about where Kate learned to play "ghosts in the graveyard" (basically hide and go seek with a different name). She happily informed us that it was at the grill. I was a bit confused at this, and asked if she meant a restaurant? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She clarified, "No daddy, remember where we had the bouncy house? The GRILL."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Suzy figured it out. It was the BBQ (Neighborhood BBQ). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's funny what kid's pick up on, and it's fun when they begin using phrases they hear without complete understanding. Of course, who doesn't do that?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-2621345705178630026?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/2621345705178630026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=2621345705178630026' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/2621345705178630026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/2621345705178630026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/10/other-stuff.html' title='Other stuff'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-5117534375378986587</id><published>2011-09-28T19:53:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2011-11-06T21:09:23.130-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Monterey vs. Taiwan</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;So I had another business trip last week. However, instead of the usual Asian tour, this time it was stateside. In fact, I even traded one of my Asain adventures for a kicking it in Caly. This was for "Bacus" aka, SPIE Photomask (&lt;a href="http://spie.org/x6323.xml"&gt;http://spie.org/x6323.xml&lt;/a&gt;). It had exciting topics and presentations such as:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;li&gt;Mask blank material optimization impact on leading-edge ArF lithography&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;193-nm radiation durability study of MoSi binary mask and resulting lithographic performance&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;MegaSonic cleaning: possible solutions for 22-nm node and beyond&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stayed at the local Marriott, which luckily was offering a discount to all conference attendees (quite convient since there was a direct connection to the conference center via a walking bridge). There were also multiple sessions in the Monterey conf rooms (including our lunch and dinners).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you know Monterey, you know that it's famous for it's aquarium.  One of the dinners was at the aquarium after it was closed to the public.  They have lots of exhibits talking about how too much fishing is going on in various places, depleting the ocean's fish population. And yes, they did server fish at dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;Here are some pictures of a really weird looking fish (it looks even weirder in person). I think it was a sunfish.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gEjOugkD0hI/TrdVmminUyI/AAAAAAAABo4/At1tKyVNqUA/s1600/IMG-20110920-00244.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gEjOugkD0hI/TrdVmminUyI/AAAAAAAABo4/At1tKyVNqUA/s400/IMG-20110920-00244.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672096377365549858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YFGdg0a3xrE/TrdVmZE6-bI/AAAAAAAABoo/HzY6ec9F7ho/s1600/IMG-20110920-00248.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YFGdg0a3xrE/TrdVmZE6-bI/AAAAAAAABoo/HzY6ec9F7ho/s400/IMG-20110920-00248.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672096373751347634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p&gt;Here are some of the seahorses they had on exhibit&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7q1_JEmKvVc/TrdWJc14huI/AAAAAAAABpA/2-dwh6jdasg/s1600/IMG-20110920-00235.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7q1_JEmKvVc/TrdWJc14huI/AAAAAAAABpA/2-dwh6jdasg/s400/IMG-20110920-00235.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672096976057435874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's a picture of the bay from the pier. If you can believe it, the last day I even walked around some after the conference finished!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mesfefMhU50/TrdYBcitFFI/AAAAAAAABpM/VgKfxClprsw/s1600/IMG-20110922-00254.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mesfefMhU50/TrdYBcitFFI/AAAAAAAABpM/VgKfxClprsw/s400/IMG-20110922-00254.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672099037561295954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-5117534375378986587?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/5117534375378986587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=5117534375378986587' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/5117534375378986587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/5117534375378986587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/09/monterey-vs-taiwan.html' title='Monterey vs. Taiwan'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gEjOugkD0hI/TrdVmminUyI/AAAAAAAABo4/At1tKyVNqUA/s72-c/IMG-20110920-00244.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-7045801474488901769</id><published>2011-09-27T20:16:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-27T20:40:34.321-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Girlites</title><content type='html'>It's always fun getting a different perspective.  Suzy was at some women's celebration deal with Kate last Saturday, so Faith, Jace and I got to spend some quality time together Sat. morning.  I had put Jace down for a nap, so it was just Faithers and I.  After racking my brain for what to do (we had already colored, eaten and played a game), I came up with a great idea! We'd make paper airplanes and fly them.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Faith was just as excited as I was, even running to get the paper.  We worked together until we had 2 beautiful airplanes. I immediately jumped up, and said, "Let's go see how they fly!".  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Faith wasn't quite so ready, "Daaaad! We haven't even decorated them yet!".  How could I forget the most important part? I called mine "the electric tornado" after completion. Faith's was "Diamond Pearl Rose" after the beautiful flowers and jewels that she drew on hers.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What is one difference between Faith and Kate? Have you ever read those books that say you should always give your kids choices?  Kate and Faith were ready for a before bed snack. I was willing to shell out some crackers and cheese.  I asked Kate, would you like 4 crackers? Response, "Sure dad."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I asked Faith (knowing she was a bit harder, and thus deciding upon a stratagem), "Would you like 3 or 4 crackers?" Faith's response? 5.  This is quite typical of our little negotiator. Although negotiator would imply compromise at some point.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-7045801474488901769?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/7045801474488901769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=7045801474488901769' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/7045801474488901769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/7045801474488901769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/09/girlites.html' title='Girlites'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-4272424289220070850</id><published>2011-09-17T16:29:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-17T16:38:58.551-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Three Wishes</title><content type='html'>On occasion, we play a game where we pretend that a genie is giving us three wishes.  We were in the car, and I was the genie in this case. We let Kate go first. She was conflicted, since she really wanted two things. A castle, and the ability to fly.  Suzy offered to use her wish on flying for the whole family (a very nice thing for her to do, also a common wish for the family).  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kate was able to get her castle, with an elevator.  It replaced our house.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What did Faith wish for? A magic flying cactus. That's right, a cactus. We're still not sure why. Maybe so we can having something nice, natural and green to be around while we fly? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If we ever find a real genie, Faith DOES NOT get one of the wishes at this point.  We'll keep practicing though.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-4272424289220070850?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/4272424289220070850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=4272424289220070850' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/4272424289220070850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/4272424289220070850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/09/three-wishes.html' title='Three Wishes'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-4785319275004039872</id><published>2011-08-31T21:00:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2011-08-31T21:07:35.025-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids, Kindergarten and Konversations</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Suzy was telling me about a conversation among the kids she transports home from kindergarten. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kate was telling Abby how she wants to be a Mommy when she grows up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;Abby&lt;/span&gt;, "I don't want to be a Mommy, I don't want to feel the pain. I want to be a hairdresser."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kate, "But then you won't have anyone to be with forever!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;Abby&lt;/span&gt;, "Yes I will, the other hairdressers. And I'll have Monday and Friday off. I'll get donuts."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span &gt;Kyle&lt;/span&gt;, "I invited 2 boys in my class and my teacher to go to outer space with me."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-4785319275004039872?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/4785319275004039872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=4785319275004039872' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/4785319275004039872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/4785319275004039872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/08/kids-kindergarten-and-konversations.html' title='Kids, Kindergarten and Konversations'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-461197435687971941</id><published>2011-08-21T13:10:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-08-21T13:13:28.398-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What to do</title><content type='html'>Suzy was talking to Kate in the car about what to do if someone is picking on her, or someone else.  First, she asked Kate what she would do if she saw someone being picked on.  Kate had a couple of good ideas, her first one was to wait until the "bad guys" weren't looking, then run really fast and get the little girl and run away with her.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Suzy interjected that maybe she should tell them to stop, or if they're bigger kids, to go get a grown up.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kate then replied, well, then I was just going to teach them about Jesus.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really hope she doesn't ever get this attitude crushed out of her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-461197435687971941?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/461197435687971941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=461197435687971941' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/461197435687971941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/461197435687971941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/08/what-to-do.html' title='What to do'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-2601227334459309459</id><published>2011-08-21T12:48:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-08-21T13:03:49.336-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Donnie Mac's</title><content type='html'>We went to Donnie Mac's Trailer Park Cuisine ( &lt;a href="http://donniemacgrub.com/"&gt;http://donniemacgrub.com/&lt;/a&gt;) for dinner yesterday evening.   The fare was pretty good, I liked their fries, and even their sweet potato fries were somewhat palatable with their "Trash Sauce" (Fry sauce).  Unfortunately for Paula, they were out of the "Worse Burger" (an aptly named Veggie burger).  They're pretty open and honest about food and such. It was quit the interesting crowd, very "North endish"  They even have a "Pedal Pusher" burger which is discounted if you have a human powered vehicle.   Anyway, it was a fun experience. The picture below is an old car that has been converted into a booth, Suzy went a previous day, and they got to eat inside the car. They LOVED it.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://donniemacgrub.com/images/bigImage/g4Big.jpg" alt="Title #3" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-2601227334459309459?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/2601227334459309459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=2601227334459309459' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/2601227334459309459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/2601227334459309459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/08/donnie-macs.html' title='Donnie Mac&apos;s'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-2890882737546761787</id><published>2011-08-07T13:22:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-08-07T13:25:31.234-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Never a truer word</title><content type='html'>We were sitting in the office today while Broccoli was cooking.  Suzy said, "You know you're hungry when Broccoli smells good." &lt;br /&gt;Amen to that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tell you what, Broccoli is one of the few vegetables that I'll tolerate (maybe even like a little bit), but I must admit, the smell of Broccoli in the air is not one to dream about, unless, as Suzy states, one is HUNG-uh-RY (so hungry you have to use 3 syllables to pronounce it).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-2890882737546761787?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/2890882737546761787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=2890882737546761787' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/2890882737546761787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/2890882737546761787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/08/never-truer-word.html' title='Never a truer word'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-7607593462412206268</id><published>2011-08-07T13:19:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-08-21T12:51:17.655-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Savannah</title><content type='html'>Suzy and the Fam were on the way back from the Boise Zoo the other day.&lt;br /&gt;Kate pops out with, "I love living here in Boise."&lt;br /&gt;Suzy, "why?"&lt;br /&gt;Kate, "'Cause there aren't any lions here.  There's no way I'm living on the Savannah."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lucky for her there doesn't seem to be much of a chance that I'll be transferred to the Savannah anytime soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps - the Zoo now has an Anteater named Mike.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-7607593462412206268?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/7607593462412206268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=7607593462412206268' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/7607593462412206268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/7607593462412206268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/08/savannah.html' title='Savannah'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-7838463818932685601</id><published>2011-07-29T22:56:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-07-29T23:04:02.219-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Some Family Pics</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zdcXvecFQ2Y/TjOQTGFldgI/AAAAAAAABls/mTjRn-Mdx9M/s1600/gf26.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635006216496576002" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zdcXvecFQ2Y/TjOQTGFldgI/AAAAAAAABls/mTjRn-Mdx9M/s400/gf26.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UX7HGZuKOlw/TjOQSwHDf9I/AAAAAAAABlk/YphsZjAjcEo/s1600/gf24.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635006210597158866" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UX7HGZuKOlw/TjOQSwHDf9I/AAAAAAAABlk/YphsZjAjcEo/s400/gf24.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1BdIlHiSss0/TjOQSmWI3uI/AAAAAAAABlc/mTuTWwUrpSc/s1600/gf36.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635006207976070882" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1BdIlHiSss0/TjOQSmWI3uI/AAAAAAAABlc/mTuTWwUrpSc/s400/gf36.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_XdTnfelVQg/TjOQSWNqNCI/AAAAAAAABlU/_TlGDTyZn2A/s1600/gf28.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635006203645539362" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_XdTnfelVQg/TjOQSWNqNCI/AAAAAAAABlU/_TlGDTyZn2A/s400/gf28.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qcvDpxF08qE/TjOQSL0_fAI/AAAAAAAABlM/BtRtw2ZuMzI/s1600/gf2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635006200857721858" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qcvDpxF08qE/TjOQSL0_fAI/AAAAAAAABlM/BtRtw2ZuMzI/s400/gf2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-7838463818932685601?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/7838463818932685601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=7838463818932685601' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/7838463818932685601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/7838463818932685601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/07/some-family-pics.html' title='Some Family Pics'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zdcXvecFQ2Y/TjOQTGFldgI/AAAAAAAABls/mTjRn-Mdx9M/s72-c/gf26.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-3535734960985966749</id><published>2011-07-22T16:11:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-07-22T16:41:10.263-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Unfortunate genetics</title><content type='html'>I think she get's this from me.&lt;div&gt;Email from Suzy:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;"&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; "&gt;The scene:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;I am feeding jace some sweet potatoes, Kate is next to me coloring.  Faith sits down next to her and asks if she can color to.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me:  No&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;Faith: Why not?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;Me:  Remember how you colored on the couch?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;Faith: I won't do it again!  I promise! Pleeeeease!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; "&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; "&gt;I look over at her, and as she is saying "Pleeeease," she is coloring on the table with a crayon.  [insert exasperated sigh here]"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; "&gt;One more Faith inspired email from Suzy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; "&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; "&gt;Faith just knocked down her tower and said, "Rock! Me!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;This puzzled me, and then I remembered that we read a book in which the piggie said, "I rock!"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-3535734960985966749?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/3535734960985966749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=3535734960985966749' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/3535734960985966749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/3535734960985966749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/07/unfortunate-genetics.html' title='Unfortunate genetics'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-7040927646558493170</id><published>2011-07-22T16:05:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-07-22T16:08:50.357-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Why do we have to pick up the mess?</title><content type='html'>Sometimes it seems our children will only happily clean if there's either:&lt;div&gt;a)  A reward at the end or &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;b) A wicked stepmother/queen making them clean. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Case in point, this is from an email Suzy sent a couple of days ago&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; "&gt;I'm enforcing a little child labor currently, and Faith just called me "Your Highnesty" :)"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="background:white"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-7040927646558493170?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/7040927646558493170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=7040927646558493170' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/7040927646558493170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/7040927646558493170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/07/why-do-we-have-to-pick-up-mess.html' title='Why do we have to pick up the mess?'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-3016889652197300973</id><published>2011-07-22T15:50:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2011-07-22T16:05:07.066-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Who's yo' daddy now?</title><content type='html'>So...Suzy left me alone with the kids, for a full day. Yes, I've done stints of up to 3 or even 4 hours by myself, but never a full day.  It's a big moment in a Dad's life when he's ultimately responsible for the health and well being of his children for a whole day.  Did they survive? I'm proud to say that they did! &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What were the ground rules? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1) I couldn't spend the whole day at my Mom's house (basically pawning the care-taking duties on her). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2) I couldn't give Jace a bath (still not quite trusted to watch the 1yr old in the bath without getting distracted by some type of Multimedia).  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3) I had to feed the kids.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4) No using the TV as a babysitter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, how did it go? I think it went okay.  I did get burned out on "princess, princess, hero, bad guy" and "Mermaid, Mermaid pirate").  Especially after MMP (Mermaid, mermaid, pirate) degenerated into the mermaids getting turned into Fairies.  That's where I draw the line. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The girls spun in place until they were dizzy. Again and again and again until they made themselves sick.  I pointed out that now they know why I don't like spinning rides, they argued back that they were only sick because they spun in place. If they spin in wider circles, they were sure they wouldn't be sick (citing the Tea Cups and other such rides as evidence).  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kate ate her broccoli and peaches (yes, I steamed broccoli).  The kids and I went to Wal-Mart (which I was pretty nervous about but turned out okay), and we only spent from 10:30-noon at my Mom's house.   Faith sampled the broccoli and ate her peaches.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Suzy commented to one of the Young women (she was at Young Women's camp for the day) that I was somewhat nervous to watch the kids.  She (the YW) was quite confused by that since she's babysat multiple times and thinks my kids are easy.  Yeah, I'd like to see you do the whole day anonymous young woman.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The girls had a bath with only a minimal amount of water damage to our home (my excuse was that I was paying attention to Jace, but could still hear them in the bathroom. As long as they kept making noises I was sure they were fine).  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, recap:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3 full meals including 3 types of either fruits or veggies.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A bath for 2/3rds of the children&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Multiple games played and books read&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No resorting to electronic babysitting.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'd say I mostly passed (I'll admit that the house wasn't in perfectly steller shape, but hey, my Kids are still around).  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-3016889652197300973?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/3016889652197300973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=3016889652197300973' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/3016889652197300973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/3016889652197300973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/07/whos-yo-daddy-now.html' title='Who&apos;s yo&apos; daddy now?'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-995526148925349039</id><published>2011-07-10T16:32:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2011-07-10T16:42:17.526-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Travel Pics</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UlEIKp6w1YI/ThoptHpII8I/AAAAAAAABj0/NyB7h0Z6RsQ/s1600/IMG-20110617-00181.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 300px; height: 400px; text-align: center; display: block; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627856539475256258" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UlEIKp6w1YI/ThoptHpII8I/AAAAAAAABj0/NyB7h0Z6RsQ/s400/IMG-20110617-00181.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is Tower 101, the second largest building in the world (next to Dubai).  It was the tallest for a while.  My Hotel was right next to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LtWFIhfK9MM/ThopCSCUncI/AAAAAAAABjs/TZprUapgk1I/s1600/IMG-20110618-00183.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 300px; height: 400px; text-align: center; display: block; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627855803530911170" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LtWFIhfK9MM/ThopCSCUncI/AAAAAAAABjs/TZprUapgk1I/s400/IMG-20110618-00183.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This was in the Japan Airport, They had a whole setup made out of Origami figures. They were selling Origami as well&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HDhO6G6I4E0/ThoptiiZGoI/AAAAAAAABj8/-O8-6mA-vX4/s1600/IMG-20110618-00184.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 300px; height: 400px; text-align: center; display: block; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627856546694765186" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HDhO6G6I4E0/ThoptiiZGoI/AAAAAAAABj8/-O8-6mA-vX4/s400/IMG-20110618-00184.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Some more Origami figures from the same scene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F0jE3xC_mDg/ThopCNCEUYI/AAAAAAAABjk/UoZX0a211qM/s1600/IMG-20110617-00180.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 300px; height: 400px; text-align: center; display: block; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627855802187665794" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F0jE3xC_mDg/ThopCNCEUYI/AAAAAAAABjk/UoZX0a211qM/s400/IMG-20110617-00180.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Another cool looking building.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3EghXCMu7QU/ThopB9Q8tRI/AAAAAAAABjc/-dmZHC6LVAM/s1600/IMG-20110616-00175.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 300px; height: 400px; text-align: center; display: block; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627855797955114258" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3EghXCMu7QU/ThopB9Q8tRI/AAAAAAAABjc/-dmZHC6LVAM/s400/IMG-20110616-00175.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;They had some really classy bathrooms here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FkCL2aQm4D4/ThopBFz-PqI/AAAAAAAABjU/y70cPPQnZ0o/s1600/IMG-20110616-00174.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 300px; height: 400px; text-align: center; display: block; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627855783069630114" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FkCL2aQm4D4/ThopBFz-PqI/AAAAAAAABjU/y70cPPQnZ0o/s400/IMG-20110616-00174.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here you go...luxury toilets.  Luckily, they have regular toilets for us gringos as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-995526148925349039?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/995526148925349039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=995526148925349039' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/995526148925349039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/995526148925349039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/07/travel-pics.html' title='Travel Pics'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UlEIKp6w1YI/ThoptHpII8I/AAAAAAAABj0/NyB7h0Z6RsQ/s72-c/IMG-20110617-00181.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-2207657436935136784</id><published>2011-07-10T13:14:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-07-10T13:32:15.067-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Flowers in your hair</title><content type='html'>It's been a lot of fun having a boy. Yes, he's not yet 1yr, but he already loves to throw and catch, play with cars etc. However, the other day there was a little flower on the floor (it was a magnet that fell off the fridge). What does my boy do? He tries to pick it up and put it in his hair. Just like the cute hair &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;accessories&lt;/span&gt; that he often sees his sisters with. Despite this lapse, I still have high hopes for the lad and his future basketball prowess.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-2207657436935136784?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/2207657436935136784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=2207657436935136784' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/2207657436935136784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/2207657436935136784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/07/flowers-in-your-hair.html' title='Flowers in your hair'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-2561728732642714077</id><published>2011-07-10T13:04:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-07-11T20:33:14.888-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Milestones. And Alaska</title><content type='html'>Jace had a special experience yesterday. It was his first time ever standing up and going pee! Yeah for Jace! He had just gone swimming at the Tingey's, and I was cleaning him off in the shower. He was standing, I was holding his one hand and spraying him off with the other. I had just finished, turned off the water when guess who (with quite the surprised look on his face) started to pee? It was Jace (since your choices were Jace or me, I really hope you got that right). We will always remember this special milestone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, Kate has trouble knowing that she's slept. Often, in the mornings she'll tell me that she didn't even sleep at all (she's very serious about it). However, we have visual evidence of such sleeping. The other day, Kate, just out of the blue, say's that she wants to live in Alaska. I can understand, she visited her Cousin Darin there when they used to live in Juneau. It was the perfect time of year, very green and beautiful, with lots of fun stuff to do outside. Wondering which of these reasons she would have for wanting to move there, I asked.&lt;br /&gt;Her reply? "Well, since I don't sleep at night, and the nights are so short there I won't even have to go to bed!" Hmmm...I'll have to make sure she visits during winter so she understands exactly what she's getting into.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-2561728732642714077?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/2561728732642714077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=2561728732642714077' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/2561728732642714077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/2561728732642714077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/07/alaska.html' title='Milestones. And Alaska'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-8631351595454798299</id><published>2011-06-18T01:46:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-06-18T02:10:33.068-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Ah, Travel</title><content type='html'>Well, It's been a "fun" week. I left Boise Sunday at 12:30pm, arrived in Singapore at 2:30am Tuesday morning. Made it to my hotel by about 3:45, asleep by 4. Woke up at 7, got to work about 8. Went to eat with my boss and a nice Japanese restaurant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday, had a meeting at 7:30, went to lunch with some of the guys from &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Singapore&lt;/span&gt; at a nice authentic place. I had the mutton curry, wasn't bad. I find it interesting that they don't do refills though. Interesting doesn't mean good. They seem to think that drinking more than 8oz of anything at a time is wasteful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night I ordered room service for my first time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Singapore&lt;/span&gt; drives on the left side of the street (they were a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;British&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;acquisition&lt;/span&gt; until just after WWI I believe). Their infrastructure is &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;British&lt;/span&gt; as well (weird outlets). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's incredibly green. Lots of plants. I ate a dragon fruit at breakfast, white with black spots (looks sort of like choc chip ice cream). Everything is very controlled and orderly. The government is really into taxing things. For &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;example&lt;/span&gt;, they have an electronic payment system in the car for toll roads. Similar to some places in the US, except that pretty much all roads are toll roads. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My boss, the first time he was driving home, got stuck on a roundabout. He kept taking the wrong exit. He spend $30 before making it home that night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The prices change depending on traffic. One of the taxi drivers let me know that at rush hour, they really hit you hard, no matter which way you go. Weather? Pretty much 90% humidity and 90 degrees every day. It does cool off slightly at night (maybe to 80 F).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I flew to Taiwan on Wed morning at 7, arrived about noon. Picked up by a local vendor for a company that also has a site in Boise. Went right to the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Nanya&lt;/span&gt; Fab (I Would have taken a taxi, but apparently this place is in the middle of nowhere and 85.6% of taxi drivers get lost on the way). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to eat that night with a different vendor at a very nice "&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Shanghai&lt;/span&gt;" style restaurant. We had somewhere close to 15 different dishes. Some were pretty good (I don't know if I should admit this, but the tofu noodles with Beef were pretty good). Some were not so good. Some I really, really tried hard not to taste as I swallowed whole. Unfortunately the first dish was some type of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;congealed&lt;/span&gt; fat with little specs of meat in it. Of course, I got the honors of first taste! Yeah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day I spent at one of our partner fabs, although I did go to lunch with another group of vendors. We went to a Thai restaurant, most of it was pretty good. The only interesting item was a fish (they looked up the English word, we believe it was a bass). A whole bass, head, tail etc. They very kindly put a piece on my plate, luckily sans head. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I begged off going to dinner that night. At another meeting though (with other another company) they brought us coffee. As I discretely attempted to leave it on the table as we were leaving, they said "Oh, don't forget your coffee!". I gave it to one of the engineering managers who apparently drinks 5-6 cups a day. He was very grateful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night, I decided to try to go to Outback, which was pretty close to my hotel. I looked it up online, and walked out. After about 20min, I realized that I didn't have the mapping skills I thought I did, especially in Taiwanese. I finally went back and asked someone at the hotel. It was about a 7 minute walk after that. And guess what, UNLIMITED REFILLS! good thing, cause man, I was sweating like no one else in the restaurant. The lady helping me was pretty much in shock after my 3rd glass of Coke Zero on out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Ceaser salad was great! just like the US. The side dish of mashed potatoes was about the size of the scope of butter they give you with the bread in the US. The steak was okay, but not great. I don't think the Taiwanese culture is big on "steak". The steaks were all "thin cut", not really seared on the outside. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, time to get ready to board the plane (I'm in the Tokoyo airport currently). I'll put some pictures on later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-8631351595454798299?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/8631351595454798299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=8631351595454798299' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/8631351595454798299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/8631351595454798299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/06/ah-travel.html' title='Ah, Travel'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-2107236855193429646</id><published>2011-06-08T21:36:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-06-08T21:42:48.717-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Asleep, asleep</title><content type='html'>Ah, bedtime at last. Long day at work, chance to talk to Suzy finally, tell each other about our days. What's that? Oh, Hi Kate and Faith (who had been put to bed at least 5 minutes previously).&lt;br /&gt;Kate, "Faith pinched me."&lt;br /&gt;Suzy, "Really? She must have really long arms." (They sleep in bunk beds)&lt;br /&gt;Kate, "Nooooooo, she doesn't"&lt;br /&gt;Suzy, "How did she pinch you then?"&lt;br /&gt;Kate, "I was in her bed (then in one quick breath) But she was in my bed before"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, we get that issue resolved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 seconds later, Kate crying hard -&lt;br /&gt;"I ran into the wall and bit my tongue"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, we get that issue resolved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30 seconds later, Faith, crying.&lt;br /&gt;"I got this stuck in my hair" [curler]&lt;br /&gt;Suzy, "Why is it wet"?&lt;br /&gt;Faith, "I got it wet"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't you love putting the kids to bed? Especially since they let us get so much practice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suzy went out, luckily. The faucet upstairs was on full bore. Both girls in bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-2107236855193429646?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/2107236855193429646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=2107236855193429646' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/2107236855193429646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/2107236855193429646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/06/sleep-sleep.html' title='Asleep, asleep'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-4620703528444123697</id><published>2011-06-05T15:54:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-06-05T15:56:21.800-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Batting</title><content type='html'>Faith today while getting ready for church, "My eyelashes are pretty when I flap them."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-4620703528444123697?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/4620703528444123697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=4620703528444123697' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/4620703528444123697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/4620703528444123697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/06/batting.html' title='Batting'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-5300321024632003047</id><published>2011-04-29T13:30:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-04-29T14:19:20.631-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Socializing</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RWsx1X8PV_A&amp;amp;feature=player_detailpage"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RWsx1X8PV_A&amp;amp;feature=player_detailpage&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You may have seen this before. This was one smart guy (Milton Friedman) and also great at debate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-5300321024632003047?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/5300321024632003047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=5300321024632003047' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/5300321024632003047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/5300321024632003047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/04/socializing.html' title='Socializing'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-7167770374240969615</id><published>2011-04-21T16:51:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2011-04-21T20:38:12.434-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Hay, Hey, Hay</title><content type='html'>Suzy recently bought some Gnocchi (a type of pasta, see picture).  They can be made from potatoes, flour etc.  Usually we get the potato or white flour based kind.  This time, Suzy got whole wheat. She overheard Kate telling Faith that those were the "Hay Kind".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suzy didn't understand, and asked, "What?"&lt;br /&gt;Kate, "You know, Hay Gnocchis."&lt;br /&gt;Suzy, "you mean, Hey Gnocchis, how's it going? Like when I say Hey Kate, how are you?"&lt;br /&gt;Kate, "Noooo, like Hay, that stuff animals eat."&lt;br /&gt;Suzy, "OHHHH! You mean Wheat!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just thought it was funny that she could tell that those Gnocchis were different. But Hay, who doesn't like whole wheat, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-N42idnS9dFQ/TbC1r0SZmCI/AAAAAAAABic/IlCP-NfJg54/s1600/Gnocchi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 140px; height: 140px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-N42idnS9dFQ/TbC1r0SZmCI/AAAAAAAABic/IlCP-NfJg54/s400/Gnocchi.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598174101196347426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-7167770374240969615?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/7167770374240969615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=7167770374240969615' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/7167770374240969615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/7167770374240969615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/04/hay-hey-hay.html' title='Hay, Hey, Hay'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-N42idnS9dFQ/TbC1r0SZmCI/AAAAAAAABic/IlCP-NfJg54/s72-c/Gnocchi.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-3497471053974080249</id><published>2011-04-21T16:32:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2011-04-21T16:50:19.498-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Traditions</title><content type='html'>You know those parents that are totally against their kids believing in Santa, the tooth fairy and the Easter bunny? We're not those parents. Nothing wrong with that mind you, and Suzy and I probably maintain the illusions for different reasons (I'm assuming we do at least, I think its pretty funny and cute, Suzy probably has a reason that doesn't involve laughing at our kids).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Kate and Faith think that their Uncle Kevin is the Easter bunny. Why you may ask? Because he is! At least at the Easter party we usually go to on the Saturday morning before Easter.  It's over close to the Tingey's house, and the first year we went Kevin was volunteered to dress up in the Easter bunny costume.  He's about 6'4, so he makes a VERY tall Easter bunny. At first Kate (who was 2 and a half at the time I believe) was scared spitless. Then Kevin took off the mask and showed her who he was (She calmed down and liked the Easter bunny from then on). Ever since then Kate has thought that the Easter bunny is Kevin.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, Suzy was driving home from Costco with the Kids and an advertisement for Fred Meyer (I store similar to Wal-Mart) came on the radio. It was advertising "All the Easter candy you'll need to fill up those Easter baskets." Kate, that sharp little girl she is, immediately asked Suzy, "But why do they need candy for the Easter baskets, Uncle Kevin is the Easter bunny and he fills the baskets?" (The girls get an Easter basket Easter morning from the "Easter bunny") Suzy, also very sharp (we know where Kate gets it from) calmly replied, "they must be talking about the Easter baskets for the Easter egg hunts, because as you know, we have to bring our own candy filled eggs for those."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a side note, the Kids do know the real meaning of both Easter and Christmas. Suzy's been doing a "last week" of Jesus's life in the evenings (taking the kids through the triumphal entry, to the Last supper through to the resurrection).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-3497471053974080249?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/3497471053974080249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=3497471053974080249' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/3497471053974080249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/3497471053974080249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/04/traditions.html' title='Traditions'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-8575155282919574849</id><published>2011-04-20T17:18:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-04-20T17:20:05.728-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Wives make great birthday presents</title><content type='html'>Email from Suzy, 'nough said.&lt;br /&gt;So, I was asking Kate this morning if she could think of anything else to get for Uncle Marshall for his birthday, and she said, "Hmmm, I know!  A wife!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I laughed and then asked if he might like to pick one out himself.  She then suggested that we bring him a whole bunch of girls and let him pick his favorite. :)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe we could even hold a ball!  Balls are great places for picking out wives.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-8575155282919574849?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/8575155282919574849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=8575155282919574849' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/8575155282919574849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/8575155282919574849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/04/wives-make-great-birthday-presents.html' title='Wives make great birthday presents'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-1786204331232947470</id><published>2011-04-17T13:23:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-04-17T13:24:50.445-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Victorian Movies</title><content type='html'>Kate was watching some Victorian era movie with Suzy. The end was near and the unlikely couple (he from a good background, her not so much) were&amp;nbsp;finally realizing their romantic dreams. What do I hear (I'm in the office), but a cute little voice chanting "show the wedding part, show the weddig part" over and over.&amp;nbsp; Ah, to be in a house full of girls.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-1786204331232947470?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/1786204331232947470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=1786204331232947470' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/1786204331232947470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/1786204331232947470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/04/victorian-movies.html' title='Victorian Movies'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-1905010471224013634</id><published>2011-04-17T13:16:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-04-17T13:18:25.110-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What not to get your wife for her birthday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Ultra-Pumice-Stone/dp/B0004S1NKE/ref=sr_1_22?s=beauty&amp;amp;ie=UTF8&amp;amp;qid=1303067294&amp;amp;sr=1-22"&gt;[Link] Pumice&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp; Stone:&lt;br /&gt;Product Features&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Smooths Hands, Elbows and Heels&amp;nbsp; [removes unsightly callouses]&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Removes Grease, ink and Nicotine Stains &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3YVYcJ0nTHU/Tas8C_QAAfI/AAAAAAAAAJI/luhQThgNcH4/s1600/IMG-20110417-00114.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="252" r6="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3YVYcJ0nTHU/Tas8C_QAAfI/AAAAAAAAAJI/luhQThgNcH4/s320/IMG-20110417-00114.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-1905010471224013634?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/1905010471224013634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=1905010471224013634' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/1905010471224013634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/1905010471224013634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/04/what-not-to-get-your-wife-for-her.html' title='What not to get your wife for her birthday'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3YVYcJ0nTHU/Tas8C_QAAfI/AAAAAAAAAJI/luhQThgNcH4/s72-c/IMG-20110417-00114.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-7983374301161783478</id><published>2011-04-17T12:48:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-04-21T20:46:02.934-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Evil meanness</title><content type='html'>I don't know if you recall the whole bad is good phenomenon that took place in the 80s (as far as I can recall). Not bad things that people are calling good, but good things that people are calling good by calling them bad.&amp;nbsp; Such, that sweet dance move was so wicked sick bad (aka, mindblowingly good).&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, on occasion in our household such vernacular surfaces as both Suzy and I grew up in the 80s (okay, so myself a little more than her). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came home from Blimpies having purchased some sandwiches for the family (Suzy had some young women's thing going on and thus had not the time to make&amp;nbsp;dinner as she usually does).&amp;nbsp; I grabbed a few of their cookies. Upon seeing such, Suzy said "Oh, you're evil!" Earlier she had mentioned that they make a "mean" sub sandwich.&amp;nbsp; Our poor confused daughter Kate piped up at this point, "DAD'S NOT EVIL"! and "Why did you call the sandwich mean?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, we attempted to 80-ize our child's understanding.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-7983374301161783478?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/7983374301161783478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=7983374301161783478' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/7983374301161783478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/7983374301161783478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/04/evil-meanness.html' title='Evil meanness'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-5377545589609079006</id><published>2011-04-07T21:25:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-04-07T21:27:02.234-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunshine</title><content type='html'>We were at a "fancy" restaurant (Cafe Ole). It is a nice little&amp;nbsp;Mexican&amp;nbsp;restaurant near the mall. It has a fountain on the inside, with lots of money in it. As Kate calls it, a wishing fountain. &amp;nbsp;Suzy gave the girls pennies to throw in. &amp;nbsp;Faith adroitly threw hers in the middle tier (there were three tiers).&lt;br /&gt;Suzy, "What did you wish for"&lt;br /&gt;Faith (with an uh oh look): "I forgot a wish.*pause* The sun was in my eyes." &lt;br /&gt;Its good to know she's already practicing up for those rare times when she doesn't make the catch, or misses the shot. &lt;br /&gt;ps - the fountain is on the inside of the restaurant, and the sun had set.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-5377545589609079006?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/5377545589609079006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=5377545589609079006' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/5377545589609079006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/5377545589609079006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/04/sunshine.html' title='Sunshine'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-1947364131040307748</id><published>2011-04-03T12:28:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-04-03T12:29:19.249-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Gen Conf</title><content type='html'>Today's General Conference, or as a friend of mine said, TV Church. &amp;nbsp;Suzy did a great job of making things special. &amp;nbsp;She printed off some paper puppets of the Apostles, the girls colored them (except Suzy did a few as well). &amp;nbsp;Here's Elder Cook. Kate and Faith would swap them out depending on who was speaking. It was pretty cute. It lasted for about the first session on Saturday, but I was more than happy with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ucbe6wpFZe0/TZi7cycs4yI/AAAAAAAAAJE/aKdfCofI57s/s1600/Gen+Conf+Pulpit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ucbe6wpFZe0/TZi7cycs4yI/AAAAAAAAAJE/aKdfCofI57s/s320/Gen+Conf+Pulpit.jpg" width="238" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-1947364131040307748?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/1947364131040307748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=1947364131040307748' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/1947364131040307748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/1947364131040307748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/04/gen-conf.html' title='Gen Conf'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ucbe6wpFZe0/TZi7cycs4yI/AAAAAAAAAJE/aKdfCofI57s/s72-c/Gen+Conf+Pulpit.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-8919898317993380486</id><published>2011-03-28T14:49:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2011-03-28T20:05:52.887-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Service with a smile</title><content type='html'>Suzy calls me in the morning and puts the phone on speaker for family prayer. Faith was praying and the reception isn't always the best while on speaker. There was one statement in the prayer I wasn't quite sure of. I asked Suzy about it. Faith had said, "Bless Kate not to eat cause she licked her food during the prayer". Hmmm...someone still hasn't "caught the vision" that closing one's eyes during the prayer helps with concentration. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few minutes ago I got a phone call from the fam. It was Faith again, very excitedly telling me about something. At first I couldn't understand, but after asking her how she did it (whateve it was), and she happily explained that she got out the jam and the bread and spread it (me assuming she'd made herself a sandwich), I congratulated her. At which point Suzy got on the phone and gave me "the rest of the story".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Faith had made Suzy, all by herself (while Suzy was otherwise occupied) a roll spread with butter and jam. After proudly showing Suzy the roll, she exclaimed, "That been some service!".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-8919898317993380486?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/8919898317993380486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=8919898317993380486' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/8919898317993380486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/8919898317993380486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/03/service-with-smile.html' title='Service with a smile'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-2945580597356263349</id><published>2011-03-25T17:16:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-03-25T17:20:56.643-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Everyone's favorite subject</title><content type='html'>From Suzy: "I had boiled some eggs while the kids were at preschool for lunch today.  When we all walked in the house, Kate sniffed and said, "Hmmm, something smells like poo poo, but it smells kinda good."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A conversation between Suzy and Kate:&lt;br /&gt;"Mommy can you come help me, I can't get a poopoo out. It's just stuck in my bum."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure enough, there was some kind of stringy thing (too much fiber is our theory), that was 5 inches long.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Suzy showed it to her, she said in an exasperated tone, "I Shouda known!".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-2945580597356263349?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/2945580597356263349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=2945580597356263349' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/2945580597356263349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/2945580597356263349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/03/everyones-favorite-subject.html' title='Everyone&apos;s favorite subject'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-2966092501824533127</id><published>2011-03-20T13:13:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-03-20T13:26:30.840-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Mer</title><content type='html'>As I sit listening to the Kate and Faith playing together, I hear an interesting phenomenon.  Faith seems to be the leader for most of the play (she'll tell Kate what to say, Kate will say it etc.) However that's fairly standard, although on occasion Kate has been heard to wonder aloud, "Faith, why do you always tell ME what to say?". Despite this wondering, Kate doesn't seem to protest too much as she continues to follow along. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The interesting phenomenon involves the word "Mer". I'm pretty sure that the English language doesn't have such a word. At least not one that means "I'm about to say something which you will then repeat back to me word for word".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Much of the playing will go like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Faith, "Mer, please hand me that dress"&lt;br /&gt;Kate, "Please hand me that dress."&lt;br /&gt;Faith, "Oh here you go. Mer this dress is magic."&lt;br /&gt;Kate, "This dress is magic"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so on. I'm not sure they realize what's going on, or that there's a new word in the English vernacular that I'm pretty sure wasn't there until last week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suzy and I just both tried it out, but it must only work when Faith is saying it. That, or Faith's new word/language is tonal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-2966092501824533127?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/2966092501824533127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=2966092501824533127' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/2966092501824533127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/2966092501824533127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/03/mer.html' title='Mer'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-3699528916849373511</id><published>2011-03-18T22:36:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-03-18T22:36:51.723-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Hijinks</title><content type='html'>So...the leprechaun got away. The kids were very sad. Apparently he "chewed" his way through the box (we know this because he wasn't in the box, and there was a hole in it).&amp;nbsp; All the coins were gone and luckily he didn't take the fairy (to the girls surprise). Kate has been telling me how she's going to use a plastic box next time so he won't escape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was very mischievous.&amp;nbsp; All the cupboards were open, there was fruit randomly placed around the floor.&amp;nbsp; Luckily, leprechauns leave recompense.&amp;nbsp; In this case, chocolate gold coins. The girls were much more reconciled to the situation after discovering his largess.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-3699528916849373511?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/3699528916849373511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=3699528916849373511' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/3699528916849373511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/3699528916849373511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/03/hijinks.html' title='Hijinks'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-546187176812085561</id><published>2011-03-17T19:59:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-03-17T20:01:04.905-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Music Man</title><content type='html'>Suzy took Kate to see the play "Music Man" last night. Kate thought it was an okay experience&amp;nbsp; (apparently they sang pretty quickly and it was a bit hard to follow).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked her about the play, she was pretty non-committal in her responses.&amp;nbsp; Suzy was helping by prompting her. In one instance she asked her, "So Kate...were there only grown-ups in the play?"&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate, "Oh no, there were lots of people. Mommies, Daddies, Kids, Librarians".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-546187176812085561?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/546187176812085561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=546187176812085561' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/546187176812085561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/546187176812085561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/03/music-man.html' title='Music Man'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-6411492100573173715</id><published>2011-03-16T21:05:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-03-16T21:07:59.855-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Hair Day</title><content type='html'>An email from Suzy:&lt;br /&gt;I have to tell you, I was just in the bathroom blow drying my hair, a rare occurrence.  Kate asked, "Are we going somewhere or something?"&lt;br /&gt;me: "No, why?"&lt;br /&gt;Kate:  "Cuz you're doing your hair."&lt;br /&gt;Then, after I finished and flipped my hair back down, Faith said, "Wow!  You look like a new mommy, but the same mommy!"&lt;br /&gt;hee hee :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Personally, her hair always looks good, whether she does it or goes au naturale&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-6411492100573173715?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/6411492100573173715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=6411492100573173715' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/6411492100573173715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/6411492100573173715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/03/good-hair-day.html' title='Good Hair Day'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-3058880536568710573</id><published>2011-03-16T20:24:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2011-03-16T21:03:06.049-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Tis the luck O' the Irish!</title><content type='html'>The girls had quite the eventful day today. They built a leprechaun trap.  Now, as everyone knows, those leprechauns are quite shifty folks. You have to get up pretty early in the morning if you want to catch yourself a leprechaun.  You can see that the girls have carefully thought this one through.  As enticements they have appealed to all the leprechaun temptations. Chocolate, money and even a cute fairy just their size. As the leprechaun removes the money from the cup, BWAMO! the box will fall right down and trap him! Ingenious! I'm sure they'll have one in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate and Suzy went to go see the Music Man this evening. I asked Kate if she was excited. Her response?&lt;br /&gt;"Well, sort of, but I'm REALLY excited for my wish"&lt;br /&gt;Me (sort of puzzled at this point), "What wish?"&lt;br /&gt;Kate (in that exasperated tone of one who thinks you should know what they're talking about), "The wish you get when you catch a leprechaun of course!"&lt;br /&gt;Kate continued on, "I can sleep in it."&lt;br /&gt;Me (confused, again), "Huh?"&lt;br /&gt;Suzy clarifies, "She means the wish, whatever it is, she can sleep in it."&lt;br /&gt;Me, "Oh! Is it a magic castle?"&lt;br /&gt;Kate, "No, just a regular castle that people can sleep in. Like me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure what Faith wants. She said something about a boat that hits the leprechaun in the head. I just decided to leave it at that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Click on the picture to make it larger]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MTIvx5O5RY4/TYFzt4Tm8II/AAAAAAAABiU/N0SLmhxno9A/s1600/DSC_0011-1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MTIvx5O5RY4/TYFzt4Tm8II/AAAAAAAABiU/N0SLmhxno9A/s400/DSC_0011-1.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584872244962062466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0i5ifkfKXqM/TYFztqBmJzI/AAAAAAAABiM/ysn0l4pdwMc/s1600/DSC_0006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 284px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0i5ifkfKXqM/TYFztqBmJzI/AAAAAAAABiM/ysn0l4pdwMc/s400/DSC_0006.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584872241128417074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-3058880536568710573?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/3058880536568710573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=3058880536568710573' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/3058880536568710573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/3058880536568710573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/03/tis-luck-o-irish.html' title='Tis the luck O&apos; the Irish!'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MTIvx5O5RY4/TYFzt4Tm8II/AAAAAAAABiU/N0SLmhxno9A/s72-c/DSC_0011-1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-6243044693965623198</id><published>2011-03-15T21:26:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-03-16T20:23:33.533-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Model This</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Suzy was showing me some weird outfits on the 'puter today.  That reminded me of a thought I'd had about clothing designers. It always seems to me that they mostly design really weird or ugly looking clothes.  I hope I don't offend anyone who really likes "haute couture" (as Fancy Nancy would say, a fancy way of saying fancy).  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, back to my somewhat original point.  I was thinking that the only reason someone would purchase such an item (besides pure status symbol) is to say, "Even though this outfit is hideous, I still look okay in it, therefore, I must be absolutely beautiful in regular non-hideous clothes."  That, or, "these clothes are so ugly, I'm going to look great in comparison."  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I often wonder if the clothing designers get together and over a game of truth or dare come up with their outfits just to see what they can get people to wear.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some Real models modeling truly cute outfits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ll5YbrA2sU4/TYFwV89SrrI/AAAAAAAABiE/wmUv4HbOyYw/s400/DSC_0015.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584868535358893746" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-6243044693965623198?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/6243044693965623198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=6243044693965623198' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/6243044693965623198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/6243044693965623198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/03/model-this.html' title='Model This'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ll5YbrA2sU4/TYFwV89SrrI/AAAAAAAABiE/wmUv4HbOyYw/s72-c/DSC_0015.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-5026160458964551492</id><published>2011-03-12T13:27:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-12T13:35:23.401-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Faith's Boredom</title><content type='html'>Faith love's to change clothes. I don't know how many times a day she does this but I know in the evenings when I return home I'll witness 2 or 3 changes in that short amount of time. &amp;nbsp;Her latest excuse?&lt;br /&gt;"My shirt/pants/whateverelse was bored"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She often attributes human feelings to&amp;nbsp;inanimate&amp;nbsp;objects when she wants something to occur. We were getting ready to play the "Tinkerbell" game (it's an actual game in a box, not a fanciful imagining type game as you would think from the title). &amp;nbsp;Kate and Faith were arguing over how the game should be set up (where the yellow vs. pink flowers and butterflies should be. Yes, it's my kind of game for sure). Faith's compelling argument? "Not the game want to be set up dat way". &amp;nbsp;I think she was also trying to confuse her opponent by mixing around the sentence structure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did it work? Unfortunately for Faith, it did not. Kate stayed resolute and pulled out the trump card of, "Well, you know, this is MY game." (read that sentence in a somewhat snotty, older sister know-it-all tone of voice and you'll about have the gist of it).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-5026160458964551492?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/5026160458964551492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=5026160458964551492' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/5026160458964551492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/5026160458964551492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/03/faiths-boredom.html' title='Faith&apos;s Boredom'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-6444597270663775058</id><published>2011-03-09T16:14:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-09T21:06:27.619-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Herbie!!!</title><content type='html'>The Library is such a great resource. Not for the intellectual knowledge gained by reading good books (or those really boring books people like to call "Classics"), but because of the free movies.&amp;nbsp; Suzy recently rented two Herbie movies (if you remember, Herbie is a 1963 VW Bug who is alive somehow, that part is never explained).&amp;nbsp; The movie I got to watch with the fam was "Herbie Fully Loaded".&amp;nbsp; It's probably pretty typical Herbie (probably since I really can't remember watching any others, although I'm sure I did in my growing up years).&amp;nbsp; Herbie is about to get scrapped, is saved and given to a girl who loves to race cars but doesn't anymore (the Great Lindsay Lohan).&amp;nbsp; Of course, Herbie has other ideas and ends up beating the reigning Nascar champion. Despite the &lt;span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;blatant &lt;/span&gt;impossibilities (heck, it's a car that acts like a person, what do I care if NASCAR has a bunch of strict rules about the type of car that can race in their races...), It was quite the exciting movie. Lots of race scenes with Herbie almost destroyed a few times, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do I bring up this random movie night? Because of Kate. It is such a treat watching a movie with her. Especially one as gripping and intense as "Herbie Fully Loaded."&amp;nbsp; At one point, we had to stop the movie because she was full on crying (Herbie had been entered into a&amp;nbsp;demolition derby and looked to be in dire&amp;nbsp;straits).&amp;nbsp; After much reassurance that they wouldn't make a movie about Herbie just to see him destroyed, we were able to continue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The final race scene has Herbie do his signature "drive on a wall to avoid some other cars" trick. Kate was about as wide eyed as you can get on that scene (Faith...stoically sucking her thumb).&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afterward, Kate was asked what her fav part was. Her response? Not the exciting race scenes, not the budding romance between "Maggie" and "Kevin"...&lt;br /&gt;It was the final scene where Herbie drives off side by side with a very stylish yellow VW Beetle.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my girls. And they are girls through and through.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-6444597270663775058?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/6444597270663775058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=6444597270663775058' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/6444597270663775058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/6444597270663775058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/03/herbie.html' title='Herbie!!!'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-3290695485390168843</id><published>2011-02-10T19:34:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-10T19:36:55.346-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Turtle companion</title><content type='html'>Suzy was telling me about the lesson she's teaching this Sunday. &amp;nbsp;"Preparing to become an eternal companion". &amp;nbsp;Kate, who was setting in the room with us, "What? A new turtle companion? what's a turtle companion?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This reminds me of a song from my youth, "Love one another". &amp;nbsp;There's one line in it, By this shall man know that &amp;nbsp;ye are my disciples..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, growing up, I always thought it said "By this shalmando". &amp;nbsp;I was trying to figure out what I was thinking it could mean, but for the life of me I can't think of what I thought it was. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suzy thought it said "by this shalmenno". &amp;nbsp;I'm guessing this song confused whole generations of kids growing up. &amp;nbsp;"If I could only get a shalmenno I could be a disciple!!!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-3290695485390168843?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/3290695485390168843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=3290695485390168843' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/3290695485390168843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/3290695485390168843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/02/turtle-companion.html' title='Turtle companion'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-8977626946480491031</id><published>2011-02-04T23:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-04T23:48:07.342-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Apostles</title><content type='html'>The Sunday School lesson is about Christ calling the Apostles.  Suzy was talking about it to the Kids on the way home and asked them if they knew any Apostles names.&lt;br /&gt;Kate, "Peter?"&lt;br /&gt;Faith, "Unco Marso?" (Uncle Marshall)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-8977626946480491031?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/8977626946480491031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=8977626946480491031' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/8977626946480491031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/8977626946480491031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/02/apostles.html' title='Apostles'/><author><name>Suzy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15986179226504730933</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-2340000628314045541</id><published>2011-02-03T12:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-03T12:38:47.918-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stealin' the chairs, Stealin' the chairs...</title><content type='html'>I stole a chair. Yes, I admit it. It's an awersome chair, and I love it! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Chair at work broke last week. I've been living with it for a while (the back Pad fell off, but I could hold it together as long as I was leaning back, but would have to re-adjust it every time I leaned forward).&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, I put the chair out in the hall for repairs (I don't know how it happens, but if you leave broken chairs out in the hall, they magically disappear. Occasionally they return fixed).&amp;nbsp; I have serious doubts about the repairability of my chair.&amp;nbsp; I've been living with a non-adjustable chair for the past couple of days (it also has no rollers).&amp;nbsp; Can you believe the trials I go through here at work? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, last night I decided that enough was enough. This morning, (I come in a bit early usually, so there are few people around) I went on a mission. I checked a couple of conference rooms, to no avail. They were stuffed with inferior chairs.&amp;nbsp; Finally, I was walking by one of the cubical areas, and noticed a Cubical with no computer, no name tag, but a Dang nice chair.&amp;nbsp; I furtively looked around, and saw no one.&amp;nbsp; So, I did it. I took the chair. As I traveled down the hallway pushing this wonderful, adjustable chair on rollers I carefully kept my expression set at "annoyed scowl" to discourage questions, or even looks. Luckily I only saw one other person during my heist, he quickly looked away and towards the ground when he saw my intimidating expression.&amp;nbsp; You never know what a man with a chair will do if you corner him.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-2340000628314045541?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/2340000628314045541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=2340000628314045541' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/2340000628314045541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/2340000628314045541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/02/stealin-chairs-stealin-chairs.html' title='Stealin&apos; the chairs, Stealin&apos; the chairs...'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-3690819225105412381</id><published>2011-02-03T12:24:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-03T12:32:07.989-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Accents</title><content type='html'>Those who know me know that I can really do accents. Okay, one accent. In fact, all of my accents morph into one particular accent, Irish Pirate.&amp;nbsp; I'll start off with a nice English brogue, or southern twang, but within a few lines my left eye starts to squint, my pointer finger starts to curl into a hook like shape, and out it comes, complete with Aaaargh maties and aye-ayes.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do I tell you this? Because I think my poor children inherited my skill (or lack there of) with accents.&amp;nbsp; Suzy can do some Amazing Accents, especially Scottish, you'd think since they're girls they'd get some of Suzy's good skills instead of my warped ones.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday the girls were being very fancy at dinner, and as you know, to be fancy one must speak with an English accent. I couldn't quite figure out what accent they were using, but it was definitely not British, and it wasn't American.&amp;nbsp; At least it wasn't Irish Pirate.&amp;nbsp; Accents can really raise&amp;nbsp;(or lower)&amp;nbsp;a girls attractiveness, and I don't want to have to pay out a big dowry to get some mediocre fellows to take my girl's hands in marriage because they go around with squinty eyes, hook like fingers speaking like Captain Ahab.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-3690819225105412381?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/3690819225105412381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=3690819225105412381' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/3690819225105412381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/3690819225105412381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/02/accents.html' title='Accents'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-8067968262251520781</id><published>2011-02-02T15:35:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-02T15:37:30.421-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Leggings, Dresses and Leotards. A post about Faith.</title><content type='html'>Faith is extremely particular about what she wears.&amp;nbsp; Yesterday, she got up from her nap wearing her new pink leotard (the girls are now in a dance/gymnastics class).&amp;nbsp; We wanted to go out, and thus wanted her to wear something more appropriate, with sleeves and pants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She of course wasn't too pleased, but after a bit of convincing acquiesced. I let her pick out some pants and a shirt. She always insists on "leggings" which are basically anything that's not jeans.&amp;nbsp; She picked some out, along with a purple shirt.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She immediately started to get sad.&amp;nbsp; I ask her what's wrong. Well, it turns out the pants weren't like leggings, but were like jeans, and she wanted a shirt without "dees tings" &lt;these things=""&gt;.&amp;nbsp; "These things" turned out to be sleeves.&amp;nbsp; Keep in mind that it's about 30°F outside at this point.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a compromise, she decides to take off those clothes and instead wear a dress. It was very nice, the battle then proceeded to what to wear on her legs/feet.&amp;nbsp; I told her either socks or tights. Faith is decidedly against socks, and thus choose tights. She didn't want tights with strips (texture), only plain tights. The only pair I could find had a hole in it (on the toe), which of course she couldn't in good conscience agree to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It may sound like this is taking a long time, that's because it did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Finally&lt;/em&gt; she was ready, and she looked very nice (she finally relented and wore tights with stripes). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This determination, and refusal to bow down in the face of opposition (opposition in this case being me) has the potential to serve her very well in life.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we came home last night, Faith and Kate went upstairs to play. Within minutes, Faith was again in her precious pink leotard.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-8067968262251520781?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/8067968262251520781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=8067968262251520781' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/8067968262251520781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/8067968262251520781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/02/leggings-dresses-and-leotards-post.html' title='Leggings, Dresses and Leotards. A post about Faith.'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-302066491184621596</id><published>2011-02-02T15:18:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-02T15:20:52.557-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Free Place - a post about Kate.</title><content type='html'>We recently drove down to Utah to visit Suzy's old roommate Monique and her husband Jacob.&amp;nbsp; As we were getting on the interstate, Kate pipes up with, "I recognize this! It's the Free Place! &lt;freeway&gt;".&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After about half an hour on the "freeplace", the "are we there yet?" questions started. She was especially fond of, "we've been driving FOREVER."&amp;nbsp; Although,&amp;nbsp;I must admit that the kids were great going both ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jacob and Monique&amp;nbsp;run a house for&amp;nbsp;troubled girls, ages 8-13 or so.&amp;nbsp; We met three of the girls, and they were very nice, especially to Kate and Faith.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we were leaving, Kate started to get VERY emotional.&amp;nbsp; We asked her what was wrong, and she told us, "I'm sad because I didn't get to know my friends very long."&amp;nbsp; She has such a sensitive heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, she was very service oriented. She&amp;nbsp;likes to call it "surprises".&amp;nbsp; She cleaned up the shoes in the laundryroom and mentioned she wanted to do more. So Suzy lamented (to the air) that she wished someone would take the sheets off the bed so she could wash them.&amp;nbsp; Sure enough, a few&amp;nbsp;minutes later Kate was done. (side note, she makes the bed WAY better than I do.&amp;nbsp;I came in a few days ago, and the bed looked great,&amp;nbsp;as if Suzy&amp;nbsp;had done it (although our pillows were in&amp;nbsp;each others spots). I asked her about that, and she told me Kate did it). ps - Suzy agrees that Kate makes the bed way better than I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, while&amp;nbsp;Suzy&amp;nbsp;was on the phone with her mom yesterday, Kate made her a peanut butter and Jelly sandwich.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;It's her new thing.&amp;nbsp; You can recognize a "Kate Made" sandwich by the inch thick peanut butter. That stuff is hard to spread.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-302066491184621596?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/302066491184621596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=302066491184621596' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/302066491184621596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/302066491184621596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/02/free-place-post-about-kate.html' title='The Free Place - a post about Kate.'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-6980350094839396380</id><published>2011-01-19T18:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-19T18:19:13.022-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Veggies</title><content type='html'>Conversation I overheard as Suzy was putting dinner on the table.&lt;br /&gt;Kate, "Mom, why did God make&amp;nbsp;vegetables&amp;nbsp;taste so yucky"&lt;br /&gt;Suzy, "I don't think they are, I think they're tasty." (This is the woman who would make herself a pot of squash soup in college and eat it for a week, with a side of beets).&lt;br /&gt;Kate, "Well, I don't. I only like all fruits, except for Oranges."&lt;br /&gt;Suzy, "Lots of people like vegetables, maybe the problem is your tastes and not the vegetables."&lt;br /&gt;Kate, "Weellllll, I don't think so."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-6980350094839396380?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/6980350094839396380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=6980350094839396380' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/6980350094839396380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/6980350094839396380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/01/veggies.html' title='Veggies'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-3230644961576290961</id><published>2011-01-19T17:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-19T17:57:10.308-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The girls Shay</title><content type='html'>Kate has a good friend name Shae. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just got home, and told Faith that her hair looked cute (she had put in a headband). &amp;nbsp;She kindly informed me, "I not Faith, I da girlShay". &amp;nbsp;She said her name a few more times, and each time, it came out as one word "girlShay". &amp;nbsp;Just to make sure I realized she was still a girl, but named Shay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-3230644961576290961?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/3230644961576290961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=3230644961576290961' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/3230644961576290961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/3230644961576290961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/01/girls-shay.html' title='The girls Shay'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-4079213806601969697</id><published>2011-01-19T17:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-19T17:52:56.770-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How to answer a Telephone</title><content type='html'>Suzy was in the shower when Kate came into the bathroom. &amp;nbsp;As Kate came in, Suzy heard this, "Oh, sorry, she's in the shower." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate had kindly answered Suzy's cell phone! At that point, Suzy shut off the shower, so of course Kate brightly informs the person on the other end, "Oh wait, she just turned off the shower, here she is."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily, this potentially&amp;nbsp;embarrassing&amp;nbsp;situation was made somewhat less so in that it was Sister Olsen (in Young Women's with Suzy). &amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, Kate learned a bit more about Telephone&amp;nbsp;etiquette.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-4079213806601969697?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/4079213806601969697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=4079213806601969697' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/4079213806601969697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/4079213806601969697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/01/how-to-answer-telephone.html' title='How to answer a Telephone'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-919638044428198083</id><published>2011-01-04T13:33:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-04T13:34:10.737-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Faith</title><content type='html'>From Suzy:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: 'Tahoma','sans-serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"&gt;Favorite Faith Frases :) &amp;nbsp;(I needed a good alliteration)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: 'Tahoma','sans-serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"&gt;"I need my privaseat"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: 'Tahoma','sans-serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"&gt;"Peery Please?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: 'Tahoma','sans-serif'; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman';"&gt;"Can I have some drinkabut yogurt?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-919638044428198083?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/919638044428198083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=919638044428198083' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/919638044428198083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/919638044428198083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/01/faith.html' title='Faith'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-5945992468566369064</id><published>2011-01-04T13:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-04T13:32:28.286-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Like Mother Like Daughter</title><content type='html'>We recently cut Faith's hair in an attempt to control the massive knots she creates as she twirls her hair. This habit is usually performed while she's tired and simultaneously sucking her thumb.&amp;nbsp; She basically creates a giant dreadlock, sometimes she gets her finger stuck in her hair and needs help to extract it.&amp;nbsp; Her hair is now quite short, just past her ears or so.&amp;nbsp; Suzy had a similar haircut growing up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day, Suzy was helping Faith in the bathroom and mentioned that she looked just like her at her age.&amp;nbsp; Faith's response?&lt;br /&gt;"NOOOOOooooOOOOOoooOOOOOOOOOO".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-5945992468566369064?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/5945992468566369064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=5945992468566369064' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/5945992468566369064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/5945992468566369064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2011/01/like-mother-like-daughter.html' title='Like Mother Like Daughter'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-6710770115120327044</id><published>2010-12-22T21:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-23T08:33:07.021-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not Very Exciting Pictures From Taiwan</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TRLQiN-n-SI/AAAAAAAAAHI/bIs_JwiaXc4/s1600/IMG_3160.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TRLQiN-n-SI/AAAAAAAAAHI/bIs_JwiaXc4/s400/IMG_3160.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Cool building eh? This was my work place for the week I was there. It was originally built by a German Architech (we bought the 1/2 of the company from a bankrupt German company).&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TRLQichVn7I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/q488QtHo-mM/s1600/IMG_3166.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TRLQichVn7I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/q488QtHo-mM/s400/IMG_3166.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Notice the size of those silver pillars vs. the cars.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TRLQikB5LLI/AAAAAAAAAHY/kt7UI6ej6CI/s1600/IMG_3192.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="315" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TRLQikB5LLI/AAAAAAAAAHY/kt7UI6ej6CI/s400/IMG_3192.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;I thought this was a funny sign, it was in all the Elevators.&amp;nbsp; There were 6 Elevators, 3 on each side. However, each side only went to selected floors. I thought that was sort of funny. Side 1 went to 1-4,6,8,10. Side 2 went through 1,3,5,7,9.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TRLQiwlROkI/AAAAAAAAAHg/15NCFbgTass/s1600/IMG_3196.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TRLQiwlROkI/AAAAAAAAAHg/15NCFbgTass/s400/IMG_3196.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;we all had to wear those blue booties to get inside.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TRLQjAFT0iI/AAAAAAAAAHo/StsXRrFhlNM/s1600/IMG_3197.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TRLQjAFT0iI/AAAAAAAAAHo/StsXRrFhlNM/s400/IMG_3197.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;This was my plane. Very large. &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TRLRp6RGaOI/AAAAAAAAAHw/47fksMNnHHg/s1600/IMG_3168.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TRLRp6RGaOI/AAAAAAAAAHw/47fksMNnHHg/s400/IMG_3168.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Me and my balding spot outside the company.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TRLRp2rrtCI/AAAAAAAAAH4/lqwZwmho57o/s1600/IMG_3189.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TRLRp2rrtCI/AAAAAAAAAH4/lqwZwmho57o/s400/IMG_3189.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;This was a park just out front. I'm on the 9th floor balconey.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TRLRqCzG7UI/AAAAAAAAAIA/mtkz_JDLXNA/s1600/IMG_3147.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TRLRqCzG7UI/AAAAAAAAAIA/mtkz_JDLXNA/s400/IMG_3147.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;this was my hotel room. VERY nice, the chaise lounge was quite the bonus.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TRLRqGC48aI/AAAAAAAAAII/Lre2MZPPEzA/s1600/IMG_3151.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TRLRqGC48aI/AAAAAAAAAII/Lre2MZPPEzA/s400/IMG_3151.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Nice bathroom as well.&amp;nbsp; I didn't even have to use an outlet adapter while I was there either.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TRLRqYe_WpI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/cQ4aQqtG0MY/s1600/IMG_3190.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TRLRqYe_WpI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/cQ4aQqtG0MY/s400/IMG_3190.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;This is in the middle of the work areas. It goes for 3 stories. The German Architech strikes again.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-6710770115120327044?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/6710770115120327044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=6710770115120327044' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/6710770115120327044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/6710770115120327044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2010/12/not-very-exciting-pictures-from-taiwan.html' title='Not Very Exciting Pictures From Taiwan'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TRLQiN-n-SI/AAAAAAAAAHI/bIs_JwiaXc4/s72-c/IMG_3160.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-9141209564705208929</id><published>2010-12-22T13:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-22T13:42:58.358-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Engineers</title><content type='html'>I work at a company that employs many engineers (of which I am one).  There are a few things I find interesting about this.  #1 is the sense of humor. When you make a joke about Pi, Silicon, Star Trek, Star Wars etc. you get a lot of laughs.  #2 Is the social norms that engineers exhibit.  Most of the hallways here are about 8-10 feet wide.  It is VERY rare to find another person walking towards you who will look you in the eye and say hi (unless you know them of course).  I can't tell you how often I've looked over at someone at the same time they looked at me, I nod at them and they continue on as if nothing occurred.  Usually everyone just tries to avoid looking at incoming people.  &lt;br /&gt;#3 Is the dress. No one complains, nor notices what anyone else is wearing (nor cares). I like this, since it means no one really cares if I have stains on my shirt (somewhat common occurrence), or if I match etc. Since I often get ready without a Mirror (Jace has been sleeping in our bathroom, so I just get dressed in the Closet and leave) this lack of caring about appearance just helps me to fit in even better.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I admit, I'm a typical engineering geek, but there are perks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-9141209564705208929?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/9141209564705208929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=9141209564705208929' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/9141209564705208929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/9141209564705208929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2010/12/engineers.html' title='Engineers'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-808965575826224529</id><published>2010-12-21T15:30:00.008-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-21T21:13:44.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Santa Paws"</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, Suzy was in the Christmas spirit and rented a nice, innocuous Christmas movie for the kiddies (The Search For Santa Paws).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object style="height: 350px; width: 425px"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/4RyhC0l3FHI?version=3"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/4RyhC0l3FHI?version=3" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was in the computer room, when I heard some pretty intense sobbing coming from the living room.  Yup, it was the song and step-touch dance routine by a group of orphan girls and Suzy just couldn't hold back.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I jest.  It was Kate, who REALLLLLLLY gets into movies. This one must have been a very emotional film, since I heard her crying (bawling) at least 3 separate times (luckily Suzy was there to comfort her, although I did come out once just to make sure she was okay).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About 10-15 minutes after the movie (which had quite he happy ending of course, sorry if I spoiled it for you since you'll probably be running out to redbox after this post), Kate came into the computer room.  She was alternating between her "about to breakdown and cry face" and a smile.  I asked her if she was okay, and in one of those "Fast Sunday" I'm about to cry voices she replied:&lt;br /&gt;"These a-a-are happy tears".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a really fun experience watching a movie with Kate. She really gets into them. Faith seems to enjoy them, but in a much more stoic "thumb in her mouth, finger making knots in her hair" kind of way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-808965575826224529?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/808965575826224529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=808965575826224529' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/808965575826224529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/808965575826224529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2010/12/santa-paws.html' title='&quot;Santa Paws&quot;'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-8579722533097479150</id><published>2010-12-21T12:27:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-21T21:14:11.753-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Worst Rendition of "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer ever"</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt; &lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/HwfMmNXwzL0?version=3"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src=http://www.youtube.com/v/HwfMmNXwzL0?version=3 type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="350"&gt; &lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-8579722533097479150?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/8579722533097479150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=8579722533097479150' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/8579722533097479150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/8579722533097479150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2010/12/blog-post.html' title='Worst Rendition of &quot;Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer ever&quot;'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-1683986395349181426</id><published>2010-12-16T13:18:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-20T12:45:04.658-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Soap</title><content type='html'>A few days ago, Suzy discovered that I'd put the hand soap dispenser refills on the floor of the pantry. In doing so, I'd set them on their side, and one had a cap loose, so of course it spilled on the floor.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A recent email from Suzy,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;Kate just emerged from the pantry with a disgusted look on her face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;I could tell she had just eaten something. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;She led me inside and pointed to the puddle of liquid soap.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;what?! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;How have I raised children that will eat unknown dried goo off a floor??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One more Katism from Suzy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;I just looked at the clock in the kitchen and said, "Where did the day go?!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;Kate replied, "Maybe to Mexico?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-1683986395349181426?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/1683986395349181426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=1683986395349181426' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/1683986395349181426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/1683986395349181426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2010/12/soap.html' title='Soap'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-8827011329337164284</id><published>2010-12-09T22:02:00.007-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-13T11:49:20.602-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Taiwan</title><content type='html'>Well, I'm in Taiwan for this post.&amp;nbsp; I just wanted to jot down some observations before I left.&amp;nbsp; Maybe I'll even take some pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taiwan is the second most population dense country, next only to Bangladesh (spelling?) I was informed by my hosts.&amp;nbsp; Apparently a lot of the land on this small Island is not livable, they have about 24 million people or so.&amp;nbsp; I'm here during the winter time, so its been in the 60s, no rain so far. It cools off to about 50 or so at night.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm assuming because of the high population density, most people here don't have a sense of personal space. They're also mostly short.&amp;nbsp; Every day I come into the site for work and go up the elevator. Every day I'm surrounded by people who come up to my shoulder. By surrounded I mean everyone stands WAY to close to me. I try to lean back and forth and squash people just to teach them to give me some space.&amp;nbsp; It hasn't worked so far.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The food here is interesting. I've been out to eat at two places. One they ordered for me, and I had to eat some weird stuff which I normally wouldn't do.&amp;nbsp; Surprisingly enough, the food tasted pretty terrible.&amp;nbsp; I keep hearing from other people that I need to try new things, cause I could be missing out on so much. Apparently I'm not missing out.&amp;nbsp; Jellied pig tendons really do taste as gross as that sounds.&amp;nbsp; Seafood dumplings (what they call pot-stickers) just don't taste good.&amp;nbsp; The chicken noodle soup had some type of spice in it that added a savory 409 or Windex flavor. Their "Taiwanese hamburgers" as I was told they were called (rice tortilla with ham, some veggies and some sweet potatoes) were at least palatable.&amp;nbsp; I had two of those to show how much I liked them, and to avoid having to eat some of the other weird stuff on the table.&amp;nbsp; For dessert they brought out a bowl of jet black yummy sesame seed mush.&amp;nbsp; I was being sarcastic when I said yummy.&amp;nbsp; They're also not into cooking their meat "too much". By too much I mean cooking their meat.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Breakfast is interesting, I eat it at the Hotel. They usually have a little row of American food, including "Intestinal meats" as they call sausage.&amp;nbsp; I do like their french toast, although their pancakes taste weird. How do you make pancakes taste weird? You got me, but they figured out how.&amp;nbsp; They also have sushi, shrimp, grilled fish, something they call "congee". I've been afraid to open that pot to see what's inside.&amp;nbsp; Never name a food congee.&amp;nbsp; Seafood lovers would love breakfast here. The mussels are to die for. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other place I went out to eat was excellent! I ordered for myself, and got a nice salad and a "stewed beef short rib".&amp;nbsp; It had mostly fat on it, but the meat was VERY good.&amp;nbsp; The rolls were delicious as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Travel is by taxi here, or if one of the&amp;nbsp;other folks who are stationed here gives me a ride. I'd say there are 3 scooters for every car.&amp;nbsp; People drive pretty crazy here.&amp;nbsp; The guy whose office I'm in just totaled his car, the other three guys I know here have either hit a scooter or also totaled their car.&amp;nbsp; I think the company should just pay for everyone to have drivers.&amp;nbsp; Scooters will often pass on the right or left, in all sorts of situations.&amp;nbsp; Intersections are always fun, usually it's a game of whoever goes first, wins.&amp;nbsp; Americans could learn one thing though, there is almost no road rage here. People accept getting cut off as a way of life here.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm listening to some girl sing "Yesterday" by the Beatles&amp;nbsp;over the loud speaker right now.&amp;nbsp; They play light music at 1pm to wake everyone up (they're allowed to sleep from 12-1pm, which many people do at their desks).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hotel I'm staying in is very nice and posh. I was complaining to Suzy though, I saw they had ESPN on the channels and got excited, until I realized that it was in Chinese. CNN is the only English channel.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I've enjoyed the trip, it hasn't been as weird as I thought it'd be.&amp;nbsp; I wish Suzy were here so she could see all this stuff too.&amp;nbsp; I realized (a while ago) that traveling for me is mostly fun if I share it with someone.&amp;nbsp; Otherwise, I'm not into seeing new stuff much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-8827011329337164284?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/8827011329337164284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=8827011329337164284' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/8827011329337164284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/8827011329337164284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2010/12/taiwan.html' title='Taiwan'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-7870210836340490419</id><published>2010-11-18T21:53:00.007-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-18T21:59:57.391-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Telephone by pictures</title><content type='html'>We were recently introduced to a new game (thanks SIL (Sister in Law) Laurie!). It turned out to be a lot better than I thought it would.&amp;nbsp; I would even say I flat out like it.&amp;nbsp; It's sort of like the game telephone, but with pictures.&amp;nbsp; Someone starts by writing a sentence. The next person draws a picture of the sentence. Then you fold over the words and hand it to a thrid person. That person writes down what they think the picture is trying to say. Then the fourth is a sentence again and so on.&amp;nbsp; I scanned in a few of them just so you can get an idea of what it can be like. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TOYBjm3kyqI/AAAAAAAAAGc/IEwqy48YvDk/s1600/Grizzley0001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" ox="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TOYBjm3kyqI/AAAAAAAAAGc/IEwqy48YvDk/s640/Grizzley0001.JPG" width="494" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TOYC3o359AI/AAAAAAAAAG4/0sVTGwMGjlI/s1600/other+telephone+drawings.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" ox="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TOYC3o359AI/AAAAAAAAAG4/0sVTGwMGjlI/s640/other+telephone+drawings.JPG" width="494" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TOYDLIdVBUI/AAAAAAAAAG8/mJKVwZ3UyNs/s1600/other+telephone+drawings0002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" ox="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TOYDLIdVBUI/AAAAAAAAAG8/mJKVwZ3UyNs/s640/other+telephone+drawings0002.JPG" width="494" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TOYDi91pfPI/AAAAAAAAAHE/W_0p5mCt8RM/s1600/other+telephone+drawings0001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" ox="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TOYDi91pfPI/AAAAAAAAAHE/W_0p5mCt8RM/s640/other+telephone+drawings0001.JPG" width="494" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-7870210836340490419?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/7870210836340490419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=7870210836340490419' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/7870210836340490419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/7870210836340490419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2010/11/telephone-by-pictures.html' title='Telephone by pictures'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TOYBjm3kyqI/AAAAAAAAAGc/IEwqy48YvDk/s72-c/Grizzley0001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-1688784336082802068</id><published>2010-11-13T17:00:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-14T11:44:58.327-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I hurt my side</title><content type='html'>Common occurrence:&lt;div&gt;We hear Faith crying upstairs. I go get her from the stairs (she had started to come down).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Faith, what happened, are you okay"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Faith still crying, "I hurt my side."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"How did you hurt your side?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I go into a baffroom"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"How did you hurt it in the bathroom?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I run into a wall."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think we'll look back on these experiences and laugh, she definitely seems like the one of the two girls who will be more interested (and probably better) at sports.  She's more aggressive, which usually translates well on the "court".  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-1688784336082802068?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/1688784336082802068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=1688784336082802068' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/1688784336082802068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/1688784336082802068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2010/11/i-hurt-my-side.html' title='I hurt my side'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-2408247105358139071</id><published>2010-11-12T23:26:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-13T15:05:37.553-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Resurrected</title><content type='html'>We went to a flag retirement ceremony with the kids on Thursday night. It was a really cool experience. As part of it, they had a slide show of pictures from military veterans and current military members.  Kate had a litany of questions (they showed things such as jet planes, aircraft carriers, families communicating by webcam and lots of cemeteries).  Kate asked a question that really made me think.&lt;div&gt;"Dad, do people always get buried with their clothes on?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Well Kate, I think they usually do, why do you ask?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Itsa cause I don't want to be resurrected naked. That would be embarrassing."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm pretty sure we can somehow take care of that as needed despite our cloths having dissolved, since large portions of our bodies have also dissolved.  I didn't go any further into it than that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-2408247105358139071?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/2408247105358139071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=2408247105358139071' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/2408247105358139071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/2408247105358139071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2010/11/resurrected.html' title='Resurrected'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-5348899883036038628</id><published>2010-11-07T17:18:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-07T17:20:59.595-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Barginning</title><content type='html'>Kate and I were having a short one on one interview this afternoon. I suggesting starting with a prayer, Kate responded back, "how about a song, then we can have THREE prayers at the end."  At the end, as she was wanting to rush out the door, I reminded her of those prayers.  She responded, "Well, how about we can say FIFTEEN prayers later." &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hmm....I wonder what it will escalate to when it's time to say those 15 prayers?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-5348899883036038628?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/5348899883036038628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=5348899883036038628' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/5348899883036038628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/5348899883036038628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2010/11/barginning.html' title='Barginning'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-1631007794759677197</id><published>2010-10-31T12:10:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-31T12:16:15.410-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Driving</title><content type='html'>I'm fairly laid back about most things, but there are a few areas of my life where I'm pretty uptight. One of these is driving. I like to leave the line as soon as the light turns green. I get pretty annoyed when those ahead of me don't. I like to drive at least 5 over, especially when the speed limit is ridiculous, like 35 on a 5 lane road (2 lanes each way and a middle lane).&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The other year, we were stopped at a light.  If there's an open lane, I normally take it even if I have to turn the opposite direction soon thereafter.  I figure If I can't beat them off the line, they'll be going fast enough that there will be separation between them and the car behind them and I can squeeze on in.  I was with Suzy, and I was looking out the driver side window in an attempt to watch the light so I could tell when it would turn Red in anticipation of mine turning green.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was successful in my endeavorer, but Suzy made a comment about at least being discrete about it when checking out other women.  It was then I realized that while I had been staring steadfastly out my window, a car had pulled up with a woman in it.  Suzy and I had a good laugh after I explained what had really been going on. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-1631007794759677197?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/1631007794759677197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=1631007794759677197' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/1631007794759677197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/1631007794759677197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2010/10/driving.html' title='Driving'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-510782246135637622</id><published>2010-10-31T12:04:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-31T12:10:32.374-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad Habits</title><content type='html'>One of my bad habits is to always try to seem like I'm listening even when I'm really not.  The evidence of this bad habit is found in my responses.  One of my common responses when I didn't hear what Suzy says is "I Love you".  I guess I've figured out over the years that that response is relatively safe.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, this morning I was upstairs giving the kids a bath as Suzy was headed out the door to a meeting.  The kids were of course noisy.  I heard her go out the door, then come back in and yell something up the steps.  My response? " I love you, bye!".  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When Suzy got home, she said, "So, you didn't hear me when I was headed out the door, did you?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I  fessed up at this point.  She then let me know that she wasn't coming back in just to say goodbye.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had been in her purse last night looking for something, and had moved her keys from her purse to the counter in my efforts (something I've done in the past). She got out to the car and realized that she didn't have her keys.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What had she yelled up the stairs? In an exasperated tone, it was apparently, "When you take my keys out of my purse, will you PLEASE put them back!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-510782246135637622?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/510782246135637622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=510782246135637622' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/510782246135637622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/510782246135637622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2010/10/bad-habits.html' title='Bad Habits'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-1100775360863585603</id><published>2010-10-31T10:22:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-31T11:40:15.483-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Quick Quips</title><content type='html'>Faith will often say as she's getting ready to go to the bathroom, "Please get out, I need my private seat (privacy)".&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kate and Faith recently watched some type of fairy movie where someone must have said "Faith Trust and Pixie Dust". They've been repeating this for the last few days. During Lunch time, I was in the kitchen while Kate and Faith were talking. They had just been saying it again, when Faith said, "Hey, that's me!" ("Faith"). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kate, in quite the supercilious manner, "No Faith, Faith means to believe in Jesus.  So, it means Believe in Jesus, and trust in Pixie dust."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-1100775360863585603?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/1100775360863585603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=1100775360863585603' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/1100775360863585603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/1100775360863585603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2010/10/quick-quip.html' title='Quick Quips'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-5915441176061440137</id><published>2010-10-20T21:04:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-20T21:20:25.857-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Some Statistics</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;I've been working on my upcoming lesson (Enlarge the place of thy tent - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;a href="http://scriptures.lds.org/isa/54" target="contentWindow"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Isaiah 54–56&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none; "&gt;&lt;a href="http://scriptures.lds.org/isa/63" target="contentWindow"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;63–65&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;). Because of the reference to Stakes, I thought I'd do a little research on Church growth and the growth of stakes (and Temples). I found some interesting trends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;The blue in this graph is the number of Stakes. The red the Number of members per Stakes (actually I put stakes and districts together).  I find it interesting that there seems to have been a policy change at some point to allow a larger number of people per stake, and you can see the up-tick in the red line, and the slower growth of the # of stakes in the blue line.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TL-xbSUxS0I/AAAAAAAAAGM/E2XVayPkvCk/s400/Number+of+stakes.JPG" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 249px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530333949767797570" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Church membership growth has been mostly linear over the past 30 years or so.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TL-voIgLFcI/AAAAAAAAAF0/f3g9jBZoDZ4/s1600/Number+of+stakes.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TL-vn9a6YmI/AAAAAAAAAFs/4a3unUL-0CI/s1600/Church+Membership+Graph.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 253px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TL-vn9a6YmI/AAAAAAAAAFs/4a3unUL-0CI/s400/Church+Membership+Graph.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530331968471458402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TL-vn9a6YmI/AAAAAAAAAFs/4a3unUL-0CI/s1600/Church+Membership+Graph.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Its cool to see the huge growth in the number of temples in such a short period of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TL-vn-G-ACI/AAAAAAAAAFk/yXXeTQ0k4Ro/s1600/Number+of+Temples+per+Year.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 253px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TL-vn-G-ACI/AAAAAAAAAFk/yXXeTQ0k4Ro/s400/Number+of+Temples+per+Year.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530331968656244770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:&amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;color:#333333;mso-ansi-language:EN; mso-fareast-language:EN-US;mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language: EN-US;mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;&lt;span style="color:windowtext;text-decoration:none;text-underline:none"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language: EN-US;mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;&lt;span style="color:windowtext;text-decoration:none;text-underline:none"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-5915441176061440137?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/5915441176061440137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=5915441176061440137' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/5915441176061440137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/5915441176061440137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2010/10/some-statistics.html' title='Some Statistics'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TL-xbSUxS0I/AAAAAAAAAGM/E2XVayPkvCk/s72-c/Number+of+stakes.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-3252703748387960605</id><published>2010-10-20T20:53:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-20T20:55:11.843-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I will go, I will do</title><content type='html'>I was asking the girls some questions the other day.  You can tell that Faith has been listening to the things we teach, but she hasn't quite put everything together in its proper place yet.  I'll see if I can get the video up this weekend, but a couple of highlights:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me, "Faith, who's your favorite prophet?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Faith, "Jesus Moroni"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Suzy, "Faith, what's your favorite story in the Book of Mormon"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Faith, "Ammon goes and gets the plates"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-3252703748387960605?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/3252703748387960605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=3252703748387960605' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/3252703748387960605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/3252703748387960605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2010/10/i-will-go-i-will-do.html' title='I will go, I will do'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-5574821749096842901</id><published>2010-10-19T20:40:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-19T21:04:18.200-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Squeezable</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TL5W2MIavxI/AAAAAAAAAFE/7n4d0RmnIPw/s1600/DSC_0423.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 319px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TL5W2MIavxI/AAAAAAAAAFE/7n4d0RmnIPw/s400/DSC_0423.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529952881427005202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TL5W2jj5woI/AAAAAAAAAFM/MCCkSWeOf3E/s1600/DSC_0422.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 116px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TL5W2jj5woI/AAAAAAAAAFM/MCCkSWeOf3E/s400/DSC_0422.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529952887716299394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;Inscription from the Top package of Charmin.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TL5W2jj5woI/AAAAAAAAAFM/MCCkSWeOf3E/s1600/DSC_0422.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TL5XV-q8ucI/AAAAAAAAAFc/35rBVMsvy18/s400/TP+Stats.jpg" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 110px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529953427569555906" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Inscription from the bottom package of Charmin.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We've had the bottom package of Charmin sitting in our garage for quite a while. We recently purchased the top package of Charmin. I ended up putting one on top of the other for no particular reason. Well, a few days ago as I was walking by, I noticed something interesting. They both claimed to have "30 Jumbo rolls" of toilet paper.  Yet one package was significantly smaller than the other. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; If you'll notice, the Top package says "Equal to 83 regular rolls".  The bottom says "Equal to 75 regular rolls"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now that would be okay if the package with more toilet paper was equal to the 83 rolls. Such is not the case! The top package has 866sq ft of TP. The bottom, 937sq ft.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Either someone randomly assigns the "equal too X number of rolls", or else Charmin regular rolls went through a drastic size shrink.  You probably already did the math in your head, but that amounts to a 17% shrink of the regular roll size, and an 8% shrink of the Jumbo rolls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-5574821749096842901?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/5574821749096842901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=5574821749096842901' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/5574821749096842901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/5574821749096842901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2010/10/squeezable.html' title='Squeezable'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OUJlkYdfPW0/TL5W2MIavxI/AAAAAAAAAFE/7n4d0RmnIPw/s72-c/DSC_0423.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-7906189149338160199</id><published>2010-10-19T20:30:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-19T20:39:42.524-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Human Fly</title><content type='html'>We have been besieged with flies of late.  It seems they've been proliferating all over Boise. One of our "favorite" activities is to kill the few that find their way into our home.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Faith was sitting by Suzy, twirling Suzy's hair as she often does when she's tired.  Well, Suzy jokingly said...hmm....I feel a fly in my hair! Faith just looked askance at her.  A minute later, she moved to Suzy's back and Suzy, hoping she'd catch on, said, "Now the fly is on my back!".  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Faith promptly jumped up and ran out of the room. She came back holding a book. With which she proceeded to use to hit Suzy on the back, killing the "fly".  Suzy burst out laughing as she realized what had just happened.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-7906189149338160199?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/7906189149338160199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=7906189149338160199' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/7906189149338160199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/7906189149338160199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2010/10/human-fly.html' title='The Human Fly'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-7476855219741636263</id><published>2010-10-16T21:10:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-16T22:08:17.458-06:00</updated><title type='text'>bobbing for apples</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-b85726a8cdaaf8ff" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v11.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Db85726a8cdaaf8ff%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331633462%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D5E7258740B3BAC99D5F61E42C8DD56A17058E947.25C50152738FCA7236C6BE2CB835A467822365F2%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Db85726a8cdaaf8ff%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dg2D_zosHKzvMXJk1Cc6ReOzXeGY&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v11.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Db85726a8cdaaf8ff%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331633462%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D5E7258740B3BAC99D5F61E42C8DD56A17058E947.25C50152738FCA7236C6BE2CB835A467822365F2%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Db85726a8cdaaf8ff%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dg2D_zosHKzvMXJk1Cc6ReOzXeGY&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-7476855219741636263?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/7476855219741636263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=7476855219741636263' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/7476855219741636263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/7476855219741636263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2010/10/blog-post.html' title='bobbing for apples'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-3527926007131194705</id><published>2010-10-15T18:23:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-15T18:31:06.241-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Various and Sundry</title><content type='html'>Something we commonly say to Faith,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Faith, don't fall out of your chair."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why you may ask? Because Faith will sometimes fall out of her chair. Like the other night. Twice.&lt;br /&gt;She also runs into walls sometimes. Just the other day, she was pouting in my closet, I went in there, and she attempted to run around me. Unfortunately, around me was the wall, which she promptly ran right into.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate wanted to go into the backyard, but Faith was standing with her back to the door and wouldn't move. They started arguing and pushing, and Suzy stopped them and said "Let's redo this nicely instead".&lt;br /&gt;Kate obliges, runs back out of the room, then back to the door and sweetly asks, "Faith, can you please move?" Faith says NO twice (They tried it this way twice). Then Suzy says, Faith, why don't you play Kate's part. Faith immediately says "Okay!". So she runs out the room, with Kate's back to the door and asks sweetly, "Kate, can you please open the door." Kate nicely opens the door and they both go outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think we're going to have to remember that technique for other times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate and Suzy were talking.&lt;br /&gt;Kate, "I wish Papa didn't have to work, then he could stay home all day."&lt;br /&gt;Suzy, "Well, he has to get work in order to get Money."&lt;br /&gt;Kate, "I wish Money just fell from the sky, then Papa wouldn't have to work at that golf job."&lt;br /&gt;Suzy, "What golf job?"&lt;br /&gt;Kate, "You know, where he has to golfing all the time."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suzy politely informed her that he actually did that for fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-3527926007131194705?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/3527926007131194705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=3527926007131194705' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/3527926007131194705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/3527926007131194705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2010/10/various-and-sundry.html' title='Various and Sundry'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-3453575989927485638</id><published>2010-10-05T22:04:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-05T22:09:57.647-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Boys are like Dogs</title><content type='html'>Kate keeps asking hard to answer questions about why Jace is "different" as she sees his diaper changed.  Suzy was talking to her about it, saying that's what makes boys boys and yes, girls are different.  Then after a short pause, Kate pops out with "Boys are kinda like dogs."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suzy attempts to clarify, "Yes, boy dogs also have (insert name for man parts here), like boys do."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate, looking a bit perplexed, "No, they just both try to chase you if you scream and run."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-3453575989927485638?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/3453575989927485638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=3453575989927485638' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/3453575989927485638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/3453575989927485638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2010/10/boys-are-like-dogs.html' title='Boys are like Dogs'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-8759757805500309579</id><published>2010-09-28T22:04:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-28T22:06:57.070-06:00</updated><title type='text'>How to clean a toothbrush</title><content type='html'>1) Give your baby boy a bath on the bathroom counter&lt;div&gt;2) Don't completely cover his man parts with water&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3) Urination ensues.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4) Thoroughly clean toothbrush. Don't tell husband until after he's used aforementioned toothbrush.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-8759757805500309579?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/8759757805500309579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=8759757805500309579' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/8759757805500309579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/8759757805500309579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2010/09/how-to-clean-toothbrush.html' title='How to clean a toothbrush'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-6919089822258238778</id><published>2010-09-27T20:58:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-27T21:01:12.727-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad Guys</title><content type='html'>In Kate's prayer this evening "And please help everyone in the WHOLE world to be safe...except bad guys."&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The other day, "Please bless this food to make us healthy, even the unhealthy food to make us healthy."  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wish I would have thought of that one much earlier in life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-6919089822258238778?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/6919089822258238778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=6919089822258238778' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/6919089822258238778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/6919089822258238778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2010/09/bad-guys.html' title='Bad Guys'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-7039885205292967500</id><published>2010-09-22T09:43:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-22T13:53:39.330-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Mommy knows all</title><content type='html'>Kate again learned how much Mommies really know. Kate seems to struggle with washing her hands. The other day she was just finishing up, and Suzy heard the water turn on, and then turn off a second later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate came out, and Suzy immediately said "go back and use soap". Kate, again in awe "HOW DID YOU KNOW!". I think this may be a repeating theme for quite a while (years). How do I know this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were eating dinner at a friend's house. The kids were outside eating. One of her sons (8yrs old) came in and asked for some more apple juice. She said "you haven't eaten your vegatables yet". Again the "in awe" look as the child is in wonderment at his mom's all-knowningness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a plate glass window with a clear view of the kids table.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-7039885205292967500?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/7039885205292967500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=7039885205292967500' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/7039885205292967500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/7039885205292967500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2010/09/mommy-know-it-all.html' title='Mommy knows all'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-2455491406838624773</id><published>2010-09-16T21:05:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T21:30:47.840-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dough Ray Me</title><content type='html'>Everyone who's heard me sing knows that concepts such as "on tune" and "rhythm" are only pit stops in my racetrack of song.  I'm sort of like a stopped clock, I'm probably on tune or rhythm (maybe even on tune AND rhythm) twice a song. Or maybe it's every two songs. Regardless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suzy recently read or heard somewhere that a child's sense of tone, and all that jazz is determined by the time they're some insanely young age.  Ever since then, I think she's been pretty worried about our children (see, I used to sing them to sleep, or to comfort them).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, worry no longer.  Now, whenever I'm in the car and start singing (you know, I just break out in song all the time), the kids immediately say "Can you please put on Safety Kids"? The first few times, I thought it was coincidence.   Eventually though, I caught onto the pattern.   At least now we know our kids aren't musically scarred for life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-2455491406838624773?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/2455491406838624773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=2455491406838624773' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/2455491406838624773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/2455491406838624773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2010/09/do-ra-me.html' title='Dough Ray Me'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-5941189991093164056</id><published>2010-09-13T08:31:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-13T08:52:02.958-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Rainbows, Pirates and Goblins.</title><content type='html'>Games Kate (and Faith) like to play currently:&lt;br /&gt;1) Princess, Princess, Hero, Bad guy: This usually involves a princess being captured by a bad guy. It used to have a hero come and rescue her, now the two variations are the bad guy turns nice and they fall in love or one of the princesses has super powers and escapes on her own.  Sometimes the princess is sold to goblins and then rescued.&lt;br /&gt;2) Mermaid Pirate: A mermaid is captured by a pirate who falls madly in love with the mermaid. At some point another memeber of the crew throws the mermaid overboard because he thinks the pirate captian doesn't like her. Then the pirate rescues her and makes the pirate who threw her overboard walk the plank.  Sometimes the mermaid is sold to goblins.  Of course, the mermaid escapes.&lt;br /&gt;3) Rainbow flying unicorn (recently Kate watched rainbow brite, now everything is rainbowed).  Someone sees a "horse" who is really a unicorn, but guys can't see the horn. The horse is captured and then does lots of amazing things (like winning races, saving a village by purifying the water with her horn etc.) Sometimes the horse is sold to goblins, but escapes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just wanted to capture some of these before you guys move on to other games.  Also, we get very bored with these games, since there seems to be an endless capacity to repeat these games with only slight variations for hours on end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-5941189991093164056?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/5941189991093164056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=5941189991093164056' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/5941189991093164056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/5941189991093164056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2010/09/rainbows-pirates-and-goblins.html' title='Rainbows, Pirates and Goblins.'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-5740422063375456841</id><published>2010-09-09T21:18:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-09T22:16:22.421-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sneakery</title><content type='html'>Suzy and Kate were playing the kids game "bed bugs". You have to try to get more bugs than the other person.  For a while, baby Jace was awake and Suzy was trying to move him to different positions to keep him happy. Kate was winning quite easily at this point. Jace fell asleep and Suzy started to gain back some ground.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate (very nonchalantly), "Hey Mom, don't you want to keep Jace awake so he'll sleep better at night?"&lt;br /&gt;Suzy, "You just want Jace awake so I'll be distracted and you can win the game."&lt;br /&gt;Kate (extremely shocked and surprised), "HOW DID YOU KNOW THAT!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommies really are omnipotent.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-5740422063375456841?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/5740422063375456841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=5740422063375456841' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/5740422063375456841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/5740422063375456841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2010/09/sneakary.html' title='Sneakery'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-8497788299885654210</id><published>2010-09-05T10:02:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-05T10:09:53.040-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Child's Prayer</title><content type='html'>A couple of experiences: &lt;br /&gt;Suzy put Faith in time out. Usually Faith's prayers are very short and contain the same two phrases (bless the family, help us to sleep well, amen).  However, Suzy heard Faith give one of the most sincere and heartfelt prayers ever.  "Heavenly Father, please help me get out of time out".  Her prayer was answered...eventually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suzy was feeding Jace and Kate wanted to watch a movie.  The remote wasn't working and Suzy told Kate that maybe she could watch one after she was done feeding Jace.  Kate closed her eyes for a while, looking very intent.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just after that, Suzy had the idea to move the batteries around a bit. Low and behold, it worked!  Later, in the car, we were talking about this experience and Kate shared with us that she was praying when she had closed her eyes that it would work, and then it did.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-8497788299885654210?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/8497788299885654210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=8497788299885654210' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/8497788299885654210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/8497788299885654210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2010/09/childs-prayer.html' title='A Child&apos;s Prayer'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-570190863077499910.post-7250964046224548634</id><published>2010-08-31T14:21:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T14:25:35.081-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Changing babies at night</title><content type='html'>The first night we were at home (we spent some time at Suzy's mom's house), Suzy asked me to change Jace's diaper. I don't know what time it was, maybe 1am or so.  I don't remember much, apparently I said no. To which Suzy, in a shocked voice replied "Really?".  I guess my subconsious kicked in, cause I got out of bed.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At that point, I started going in circles in the middle of the room, mumbling "I can't find it" over and over.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exasperated, Suzy finally said "fine, I'll do it!", at which point I climbed back in bed, apologizing for my inability to find the diaper.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suzy told me about this in the morning, and expressed some deep concern about our baby's safety with me at night.  It's been much better since then (I think I just needed a little bit of practice).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/570190863077499910-7250964046224548634?l=mike-garrett.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/feeds/7250964046224548634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=570190863077499910&amp;postID=7250964046224548634' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/7250964046224548634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/570190863077499910/posts/default/7250964046224548634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mike-garrett.blogspot.com/2010/08/changing-babies-at-night.html' title='Changing babies at night'/><author><name>Mike</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04906831462785186179</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
