Anyway, the kids spent the day playing in the yard with the neighborhood dogs and begging me, "Please, please, please" can we get a dog and me saying I'd rather have surgery to remove and intestinal blockage. I'm sure someday my kids will have lots of animals and think that their father still has that same blockage which is why he's so uptight.

Anyway, it reminded me again of doggie sheds which is an odd thing that I would have never thought of unless Devin came in and started talking about them. I have no idea why.

He likes to talk a lot. So much in fact that I wonder where he gets all the words. He's not great at distinguishing between 'd' and 't' which is sort of the point of this rambling.

He comes in to me and says, "Dad the doggie wants to go into the doggie shit." I'm on the computer so I say, "that's nice." Then I register what he said and say, "what?!" He's not one to pass up the chance to talk a lot so he goes, "I have a doggie and he lives in his doggie shit and sometimes I visit his doggie shit and I like his doggie shit." I can't breath and tears are in my eyes at this point so I get Callie and then she can't breath and Devin, encouraged by the state of his parents, continues his doggie shit monologue. Then he says, "I'm funny," and goes and plays.

I'm pretty sure we're going to get a lot of calls from the neighbors after he plays with their kids.

It took me a while, but I figured out that his imaginary doggie lives in a 'shed'. Thank goodness because that's much more sanitary.

Since we're in Idaho for the weekend I like to leave my mother in a semi-appalled state - the kind that leaves her just debating whether she should call child protective services so I say to Devin, "tell grandma about your doggie shed." He says, "I don't have a dog."

Then funny things started to happen. As they drove down the road kids would honk, give them peace signs and cheer as they passed. At gas stations random youth would pose by my parent's car to get their picture taken. It was a year before my dad was having a conversation with one of my more colorful cousins and told him about the situation. My cousin busted up laughing and then gave my dad the lowdown on 420.

His plate now reads 204.

It's just a guess but I bet the pros don't use sippy cups.

We took the kids to Thanksgiving Point yesterday to look at the gardens. They had a great time. Whenever we travel through the Salt Lake area it seems that my wife has a $10 coupon for JCPenny that "would just be silly not to use." The signs were not in our favor and we ended up down a dead end road. We turned around and made our way through some of the darker areas of that part of town until we saw a lot of cars and chose to follow them. That led us to the store. Who says following the crowd doesn't work. We made it to the mall just before closing. All the kids needed to use the facilities at that point so at 10 at night we hauled all the kids into the store so they could pee. As we stepped in the front door our quest was almost over before it started. Right as we walked in the front door there was a sign that said 'Restrooms'. We started walking down the short hall but there were only two doors and neither looked like a restroom. The arrow pointing towards relief was aimed downward. We assumed that the arrow had been turned somehow and that the restrooms were somewhere close. We walked through the store and ran into a salesman he haughtily told us, "they are downstairs." I said, "that's good because the sign back there made me wonder if we were supposed to pee on the floor." He was a suite salesman and not amused.

I'll be headed to Staples on Monday to get a new chair and out on the new bike to lose some weight.

I asked her what she did wrong and she wouldn't answer. Then I said that instead of pinching perhaps we need to enroll her in karate so that she can learn to fight properly. I don't think Callie was amused.

When he got home Owen said, "when I grow up I want to wrap meat." I guess the meat wrapper was the highlight of the trip.

One of the things they have, that I love is Harry and David Moose Munch. That stuff is awesome, but is so Calorie dense that a mere handful contains enough energy to feed a child in a third world country for a year. No wonder people hate America. I ate most of a 900 Calorie box on the way home.

While hanging out in the candy isle looking for a, no way is any of the ingredients in this thing found in nature, candy, Hello Kitty bracelet for my daughter, the woman standing next to me asked if the Valentine sports thing she was holding would be an appropriate gift for a guy. Given that I don't care for much sports I was about to say I have no idea, but she was nice and looked like she needed help so I said, "sure. That's a great gift idea." Then she asked me, "what do guys want for Valentines?"

At first I thought, "well duh," and then I almost said out loud what was being said in my mind. (Don't lie you know exactly what guys want for Valentines. That's why they'll spend $200 on a dozen mostly dead, wilting roses.) Then I thought, "I don't know this person," and my filter kicked in just in time and I replaced "sex" with "chocolate."

She said, "my husband's diabetic."

Well hell.

While walking down the main isle with my wife and four kids I looked up and saw two hookers. Yes, they were hookers. I thought wow they really do have stuff here that they don't have at Walmart.

Target has interesting things that I don't find when I shop elsewhere.