Fact vs. Opinion

Fact:  Diet is a four-letter word.
Opinion:  Food is also a four-letter word.  I like food.

Fact:  I am the firstborn of three daughters.
Opinion:  It really messed me up.

Fact:  I drive a Toyota Camry.
Opinion:  I pretend like it's a convertible Camaro.

Fact:  My day at school begins at 7:25 a.m.
Opinion:  In my head, it begins at 10 a.m.

Fact:  I have 34 first cousins.
Opinion:  My Grandmas loved me best.

Fact:  Baptist doctrine does not include alcoholic beverages.
Opinion:  Margaritas taste really good.

Fact:  I am smarter than a fourth grader.
Opinion:  My kinders think I'm a genius.

Fact:   I have been married almost 35 years.
Opinion:   I have been happily married for 32 years.
(OK, that was for you, Honey.  That's your classic old joke that I never 
thought was very funny.)

Fact:  Listening to classical music can improve test scores.
Opinion:  Listening to  70's classics could produce a school full of geniuses.

Fact:  I have arthritis, a bone spur on my heel, insomnia, ringing in my ear, etc.
Opinion:  You're only as old as you feel.  Whatever. 

Fact:  I am a teacher, wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, pianist, writer, skier,etc.
Opinion:  I am WOMAN.  Why don't I feel invincible?

Fact:  Diet Mountain Dew has zero calories.
Opinion:  Diet Mountain Dew has magic powers.

Fact:  My real hair color was dark brown.
Opinion:  My real hair color is dark brown.

Fact:  This blog post has a beginning and an end.
Opinion:  I could keep going, but I need to stop.  And load the dishwasher.




©2011tbowenblog

Pac-Man , You Rocked!

I've discovered something quite disturbing.

I'm married to a killer.

Well, not a real killer, just a 

pretend

killer.

He kills after work to de-stress.

He kills in the evening when I'm in the office on the computer.

He kills on his days off.

He kills when he's bored.

He kills when he's not bored.

He kills with other people,

including friends from church.

He talks to other killers about killing, 
including his sons.

Some of you know...you have one at your house too.

They kill with pretend guns and pretend good guys

that take out the pretend bad guys.

Pretend blood spatters and pretend people say things like, 

"We didn't come here to lose!"

 

I really don't like killing.

It's NOT very nice

AND 

hello???.......

Thou Shall NOT kill!

 And hey, Killer,

 I'd like to know...

what about those ants that visit my house in spring?

Or  the big, gigantic  creepy-crawly spider?

Don't forget about those nasty slugs!
Now THAT'S your "Call of Duty!"

In my book, anyways.

OK, Seriously?

Since I've been on the subject of baseball,

(did I mention my better-half loves baseball almost more than life?)

I thought I'd let you see what it's like being married

to a guy

who knows about everything there is to know about

baseball nostalgia.

So...you can only imagine how he felt, last summer, the minute 

we finally arrived at a place he'd always dreamed of visiting...

the Baseball Hall of Fame

in Cooperstown, NY.

As we were taking pictures before entering the museum,

(well, actually it was me taking pictures, as usual)

he mentioned that he was getting jelly legs

just thinking about it all.

I was almost getting jelly legs because I knew

he was getting jelly legs from the 

anticipation.

We went inside, and paid, and became Hall of Fame members,

(one of the main perks he had looked forward to)

and then soon parted ways.  It's not a gigantic place, mind you.

I knew he would take a lot longer than I could even possibly fathom,

so I was already prepared.  

I even suggested making a two-day visit out of it, knowing

he would enjoy a second or third go-round.

So after wondering around for about half an hour,

I decided to go find him and see if he had managed 

to keep it under control.

To no surprise at all, I found him still in the first room of the tour.

I found a little bench and sat down,

and watched him, without him knowing I was there.

Just happened to have camera in hand.

Here's how it went down.

(Try to imagine a good 20-30 minutes passing by, and keep in mind 

he still had a WHOLE museum to go through....many rooms,

in the museum...to go through!!!)

OK...he's checking it all out.

Aww, he's really enjoying this. (smile)

Good, he's rounded the corner.  Everyone else has come and gone.

 More people have come and gone.

OK, seriously?

Zzzzz.....Yep, different people coming and going.

For the love of Pete, don't go back!!!!!


Ha ha..This is where I said, "Bye Honey!  Have fun, take as long as you want,
I'm going to explore the town". 

©2011tbowenblog 

Take Me Out to the Ballgame

We have a baseball book at our house. 

Actually, we have a lot of baseball books at our house,

but one book in particular,

Baseball on the Brain -

paints an accurate picture 

of the excitement of the arrival of spring

in our family.

Family...as in

everyone!

We all get giddy.

Sure, having a personal interest

(you might even say investment for some of us)

in a certain 6'3, right-handed pitcher

makes it even more appealing!

Anticipating the familiar sights and sounds

at the ball stadium

are almost more than we can take!

The better-half and I have already started

eating an alarming number of hot dogs

and peanuts. 

We hear organ music in our sleep.

We call each other "Babe."

I have to be honest though.

I can't hold a candle to 

my better-half's 

love of the

game.

He and his youngest

live, eat, breathe...

baseball.

When Drew was little,

his dad would ask him -

"You want me to read you a book before you go to bed....

or

would you rather watch a little baseball?"

 Mmm hmmm...

Baseball...

gotta love it.

(I guess If I didn't love it,

someone around here might yell

at me...

"You're out!":)

 Please...

take me out to the ballgame - 

I can't wait much longer!

Do Girls Like to Wrestle?

So...

I don't want ya'll to think I don't like baby girls....

with all the ramblin' on I do about boys 

and how much I love 'em, and everything.

(Why am I talkin' like a cowboy?)

Ahem,

We had a baby shower at work today for a sweet little baby girl.

She sure was cute.  And so little.

I don't ever remember my boys

being that little.

I think they came out ready to

crowd to the front of the line for the 

All-You-Can-Eat

Buffet!

And her clothes...., they were adorable!! 

Pinks are my favorite colors

and that's 

pretty much a no-no for baby boys...

until they get a little older, anyway.

Then it's cool to be a guy who wears pink.

That didn't stop me from secretly dressing Drew up as a girl once. 

 I even have a picture to prove it! 

(Note to self - find that picture.)

I'd appreciate you not running and tattling on me though.

Baseball jocks probably don't see the 
cuteness of it.

I don't think I ever put Matt through that.

He was a firstborn, after all.

There were standards to be set.

And met.

But he does complain that I dressed him like a little

Prince William, 

which personally, I don't see as a problem.

I don't think Buster Brown shoes

or little knee socks for Easter 

were a bad thing.

( MUST find those pictures.)

If I do have a granddaughter some day,

I hope she is ready for her Papa Mike.

She sure better like to wrestle.

At our house, the boys, all three of them,
liked to wrestle in their underwear.
I don't think that tradition can continue with a girl.

Which, come to think of it, could really get Papa Mike in trouble.

So never mind.

I'm pretty positive that she will have lots of pink clothes.

 And shiny things...

and purses.

And hopefully, a pink sparkly wrestling suit. 
With a matching purse.

And if it's decided that only Grandsons

are in our future,

well, this Grammy will be thrilled and ready.

I'm the proud owner of "The Boy's Book

of Survival."

And I'm not afraid to use it!

Cowboy Up

For a city girl,

we sure do have a lot of cowboys 

in the family...

Go Pokes!

That All You Got?

I've been sneezed on,

coughed upon,

upchuck,

throw-up,

regurgitated,
nauseated,

fever's hot,

germs caught, 

slobber, drool,
so uncool,

 dirty fingers,
things in hair,

floating microbes
everywhere,

runny noses,

just like hoses,

queasy, green-

unforeseen,

blood and gore

nasty sore,

poop and pee-

yes-sir-eee,

mucous, snot

what else you got?

You can't scare me,

lest you recall...

I'm a teacher -

I've seen it all!

©2011tbowenblog