Introducing "Lite," The New Way To Spell "Light" But With 20% Fewer Calories!

Hey,
I haven’t posted in a while. Sunday, I guess…

Monday, Garrett, his poor father, and I went to see Kutless at the fair. ROCK AND ROLL! It was the most energetic concert I’ve ever been to. They were just awesome! And we had killer seats! They were so all over the place, doing crazy stuff, playing hard loud music, and singing excellent lyrics all at the same time. If that’s not talent, I don’t know what it is. And they did some worship stuff, so there was another great dynamic to it. If you EVER get a chance to see them, go for it. You won’t regret it.

Tuesday, after dragging out of bed at 7 15 (blech!) so I could drive in with Garrett’s dad, I went to the lake. We fought a lot that day. A little machismo going around. I enjoy moderate machoishness every now and then. I think I’d really enjoy it if I was any good at it. Everybody just beats on the skinny guy. I least I know my place. I’m under no false illusion of muscularishness. I know who I am. It’s cool with me. And I screamed like a woman to be let out of my heavy sandy prison that was unjustly forced upon me. It was supposed to be fun. They buried me in the sand. Deep. Heavy. Painful. Freaky outy. Scary. Screamy.

Wednesday. That’s a weird word. I mean, sound it out… Wed. Nes. Day. What the heck? And we say it “Wenz-day.” Go figure. That’s a funny word to say with a British accent. Figure. In Britishese it’s, “figger.” If that doesn’t sound retarded I don’t know what does. That and schedule. Around here, it’s “sked-u-uhl.” 3 syllables. In Britishese it’s more like, “schezz-ule.” Chuckle.

I think the essence of Southern accent, and I have people that agree with me on this, (you know who you are) is making one syllable words two syllable words, and making two syllable words one syllable words. Hang around someone with a thick drawl for a while, and you’ll see what I mean.

Anyways, what happened on Wednesday? No, what am I thinking, I don’t ask you, you ask me… Ok, let’s do it already.

Wednesday, (stay on task, stay on task, stay on task, Zach) I found out there are some people crazy enough to trust me with their children without close adult supervision. I think I’m gonna get a sticker to put on my forehead that says that, “Use only under close supervision.” It might save me a lot of grief. Geez, I cannot stay on task today.

So, I’m babysitting Slate, 7, and Darby, 4. Slate is … …. … interesting. Very confident. Extremely imaginative. He can look you in the eye and be like, “This piece of paper in my hand is not really a piece of paper. It’s the world’s smallest computer. It’s also transforms into a huge gun. You must keep it safe from the evil Arcanozx and all the bad spies. If they find it, everyone in the whole world will die.”

And you believe him. Because he said it. And you’d better do what he tells you to do, or he will unleash his most deadly weapon. His death look. His death look…. Well, it’s death, for sure. Whoa.

Darby is pretty much the cutest, funniest, loveable-ist kid ever. He still has that cute voice that you’re supposed to grow out of before you turn 4, except he didn‘t. He’s great.
They’re a real trip to babysit.

Before the 2 hours was up, I had squeezed my 6 foot frame into a Superman outfit that was made for a ten year old so we could wrestle in style. Yeah. Those things will give you a killer wedgie in a hurry, especially if you just put em on over your jeans. Ouch. And it had a plastic plate built into the chest and it was all musculary looking. It was a new thing for me to have a superman torso. I was looking good. Ish.

I also was an accomplice in a serious heist. I unknowingly helped Darby steal some buried treasure from Slate. Ooops. A little conflict there, too long for this post. Talk about a complex plot. Whoa.

Thursday, hosting a dinner party of sorts with my grandparents, my great aunt and uncle, Sarah O, Sarah May, and Sarah O’s parents. A pretty diverse crowd. I think Sarah O reads this blog, so, Sarah, I love your dad. He’s top notch.

And today, Friday, I ordered my guitar. It’s coming. Soon. I spent so much money on it. Crazy. So, now I’m broke. What a horrible feeling. It’ll be worth it once the guitar gets here. Oh my gosh, it’s gonna be so nice. And I saw Meet The Robinsons at the dollar theatre. Which, unfortunately, is no longer the dollar theatre. It’s the $2.50 theatre, which is harder to type, and it just doesn’t roll off the tongue, like dollar theatre. Not to mention it’s more expensive. So anyways, it was good for an animated kid flick.

Theatre is a weird word. Just look at it. Filth.

I’m gonna see Pirates 3 again when it comes to the dollar theatre, which should be soon. You should come. Gimme a call.

Tomorrow, Luke and Olivia are participating in a triathlon. Which is cool. Except I have to get up at like 6 so they can get all set up, savvy? That’s not good, savvy? That’s fun to say, savvy?
At the risk of being super nerdy, I’ve been working on my Jack Sparrow imitation. I don’t do it on command. Nope. Only when I feel like it.

The Pirates dynasty would’ve been ok w/out Jack Sparrow, but with him, it’s just awesome.

He’s SO funny.

Holy crud, this post is LONG.

Merry Christmas.

Happy Hanukka, or however the heck you spell it.

Be God’s,
zach