Dream big.

A couple of days ago, Jacob played dodgeball with some other men at the church building. He asked me to come along, so I packed some snacks and a book and did so.

One of the men brought his four children with him. The oldest, a boy maybe 8 or 9 years old, decided to do some sit ups. He asked each of his younger sisters to help hold his legs down.

After going on for several minutes, his youngest sister was straight up tired of sitting on his legs, and she told him so. His response? "Wait! I'm ten seconds away from a six pack!"

(Once those ten seconds were up, he turned around, lifted his shirt, and looked at his stomach. He then started exclaiming, "Oh. My. Gosh. OH. MY. GOSH! DAD! I did sit ups for seven minutes and I still don't have a six pack!")

Teehee.

You can have a Coke.

Over the weekend, Jacob and I visited our local DI for a little window shopping. I can't decide which was the best find:

Was it 1) the journal with a picture of Jesus on the cover that detailed, in 8- or 9-year-old handwriting, that "Colby is so smoken [sic] hot" and that "he is my man"? Or was it 2) the bag of creepy severed doll heads in the "craft" area?

So. Many. Questions.

(Sadly, we did not purchase either item. Jacob also vetoed the idea of purchasing the entire Richard Simmons' collection of Sweatin' to the Oldies. Way to crush all my hopes and dreams.)

:)

New additions to the family . . .

After nearly a year of anticipation, we are proud to present our new twins!

I realize that Clarissa's flower on her headband should be much, much bigger than it actually is, and maybe it's a little indecent to show them without any clothes on, but aren't they just soooooo precious? They may be a little chunky, but we love them just the same. Especially me.

The Ugly Bug Ball

We have a fly swatter hanging on the door in our bathroom.

Classy, I know.

I think we stuck it there when we first moved in for lack of a better place to put it, but now it's handy to know where it is when we (read: Jacob) must defend ourselves against intruders of the arachnid/insect variety.

Remember the post about spiders I wrote a month ago? That was just the tip of the iceberg. Since then, we've had probably close to a dozen other spiders crawling around our apartment. Upon discovery, their visit is short-lived.  We are such gracious hosts.

Side note: I'm not sure why the spiders feel a need to have a convention in our home. I've talked to our neighbors, and none of them have had any problems with bugs. If they're trying to escape the summer heat, they came to the wrong place, because our apartment is hotter than an oven in Hades. But I digress.

Anyway, this morning Jacob was taking a shower, minding his own business, when I came across a terrifying-looking bug in the hallway. I proceeded to whimper in a girly, high-pitched manner, as is the only appropriate reaction when coming within a foot of an unidentified bug.

Once Jacob gathered that there was a bug in the apartment, he directed me to get the fly swatter, which was not in its usual place as he had to use it just minutes before his shower to dispose of a spider. During the time it took me to walk to the living room and back, the bug had disappeared and Jacob had finished his shower.

Jacob: Where'd it go?

Me: I don't know. I think it's under your pants. [Yes, his pants were on the ground in the hallway. Don't judge.]

Jacob: You let it get to my pants!?

Me, thinking: Well, I certainly wasn't going to TOUCH it to prevent it from doing so.

Me, speaking: I don't know if it's there for sure. But that's the general direction it was heading.

Me, again: You might not want to use the flyswatter on this one.

Jacob: What kind of bug is it? A stink bug?

Me: I don't know! But it's big and black and crunchy looking!

At that point, the bug decided to emerge from its hiding place (yes, under Jacob's pants) and I hopped back to bed so I wouldn't have to be there when Jacob disposed of it. But he did kindly announce to me when the deed was done, so I wouldn't have to worry about coming across it later.

Let's just hope its relatives don't decide to send out a search party for it. . . .