It was the best of ideas, it was the worst of ideas...
Yesterday was St. Patrick's Day. And a fine day it was to be Scottish!
This is my joke every year. Jess says that she is going to photoshop my face into it for next year, which is cool, but I am going to have to paint my face first.
The joke is also with some of my friends who are Irish - we make fun of each other all the time (or at least when we used to see each other often) about being Irish and Scottish. All in good fun. But since the boys are a wee bit Irish, we too celebrate the holiday.
This is my new favorite thing about St. Patrick's Day. I'm in full support of celebrating the holidays that are relevant to us and our background - even though it is an Irish holiday. That jersey I am wearing is a Celtic Football jersey - most people assume because it's Celtic and green it's Irish. It's not, it's Scottish!
This used to be my favorite thing about the day: the day after and corned beef hash. I'd like to thank my shanty Irish friend Eddie 'O for introducing me to it in college. Sooooooooo tasty.
Back to the trip - not that our lives are not actually part of the trip.
I think we should probably have our heads examined.
Someone thought it would be a good idea to take everyone to the outlets to head to Columbia to see the stuff that was on sale and maybe get some gear for the trip. Mind you, it's pretty cold today, and there's three of them.
Getting out of the house was actually pretty easy. The first five minutes or so in the store were pretty easy too. After looking for about three minutes the first two hooligans decided to run through the changing area. Ok, maybe I instigated by hiding on them. It was all fun and games until the high pitched screaming started. Then it started from somewhere else in the store. That was Duncs, on Mommy's back. They're like wolves.
Mommy continued to gather items for her and Neil to try. When we got the count up to somewhere around 67, we all went into the changing room. Together. That's when the real fun started.
After taking Duncan down and trying on pants and getting Neil in a shirt, Malcolm and Duncan start touching and grabbing everything. The mirror, the light behind the mirror, shit on the floor, each other, the mirror, each other, shit on the floor, each other....
Jess left because none of the 33 pants that she had fit the way she wanted or something...and I was locked in there with the three of the for an eternity. Grabbing the light behind the mirror. Neil does something Malcolm has to do it. Malcolm does something Duncan has to do it.
And the cycle continues.
Medieval torture. I seriously hope we will be visiting a lot of medieval castles. I have no problem leaving at least one in the dungeon of each place we visit, at least while we are there so there's even numbers of them vs. us.
In our defense, it can sometimes be very difficult when Malcolm starts with some No Reason Dancing in the mirror:
After all that - Neil has a fleece with a hood and Jess got a shirt. I didn't look at anything because, well, you know, Daddy can always wear some old shit and then Mommy will complain that it is smelly from trips past. We have to get our taxes done today and a babysitter will be here with the boys for what should mostly be nap so we might be able to sneak out afterwards and do some shopping - though, I think I may prefer just trying to find some stuff online.
It looks like we got our first place sorted for the first two nights or so after we land in Inverness. It's a two bedroom stone cottage and the people have a border collie for us to play with. By us I mean me.
We land at 4:45 pm. I don't think we have ever done that before, it's usually the am. But this might work because if we can keep them up until about 8 I'm guessing they should sleep for the night. Or until 3 am or some shit. And let me tell ya - that would suck.
The next time I think it will be a good idea for all of us to go shopping, I will use this post to remind me of what a shitty idea it is
This is my joke every year. Jess says that she is going to photoshop my face into it for next year, which is cool, but I am going to have to paint my face first.
The joke is also with some of my friends who are Irish - we make fun of each other all the time (or at least when we used to see each other often) about being Irish and Scottish. All in good fun. But since the boys are a wee bit Irish, we too celebrate the holiday.
This is my new favorite thing about St. Patrick's Day. I'm in full support of celebrating the holidays that are relevant to us and our background - even though it is an Irish holiday. That jersey I am wearing is a Celtic Football jersey - most people assume because it's Celtic and green it's Irish. It's not, it's Scottish!
This used to be my favorite thing about the day: the day after and corned beef hash. I'd like to thank my shanty Irish friend Eddie 'O for introducing me to it in college. Sooooooooo tasty.
Back to the trip - not that our lives are not actually part of the trip.
I think we should probably have our heads examined.
Someone thought it would be a good idea to take everyone to the outlets to head to Columbia to see the stuff that was on sale and maybe get some gear for the trip. Mind you, it's pretty cold today, and there's three of them.
Getting out of the house was actually pretty easy. The first five minutes or so in the store were pretty easy too. After looking for about three minutes the first two hooligans decided to run through the changing area. Ok, maybe I instigated by hiding on them. It was all fun and games until the high pitched screaming started. Then it started from somewhere else in the store. That was Duncs, on Mommy's back. They're like wolves.
Mommy continued to gather items for her and Neil to try. When we got the count up to somewhere around 67, we all went into the changing room. Together. That's when the real fun started.
After taking Duncan down and trying on pants and getting Neil in a shirt, Malcolm and Duncan start touching and grabbing everything. The mirror, the light behind the mirror, shit on the floor, each other, the mirror, each other, shit on the floor, each other....
Jess left because none of the 33 pants that she had fit the way she wanted or something...and I was locked in there with the three of the for an eternity. Grabbing the light behind the mirror. Neil does something Malcolm has to do it. Malcolm does something Duncan has to do it.
And the cycle continues.
Medieval torture. I seriously hope we will be visiting a lot of medieval castles. I have no problem leaving at least one in the dungeon of each place we visit, at least while we are there so there's even numbers of them vs. us.
In our defense, it can sometimes be very difficult when Malcolm starts with some No Reason Dancing in the mirror:
After all that - Neil has a fleece with a hood and Jess got a shirt. I didn't look at anything because, well, you know, Daddy can always wear some old shit and then Mommy will complain that it is smelly from trips past. We have to get our taxes done today and a babysitter will be here with the boys for what should mostly be nap so we might be able to sneak out afterwards and do some shopping - though, I think I may prefer just trying to find some stuff online.
It looks like we got our first place sorted for the first two nights or so after we land in Inverness. It's a two bedroom stone cottage and the people have a border collie for us to play with. By us I mean me.
We land at 4:45 pm. I don't think we have ever done that before, it's usually the am. But this might work because if we can keep them up until about 8 I'm guessing they should sleep for the night. Or until 3 am or some shit. And let me tell ya - that would suck.
The next time I think it will be a good idea for all of us to go shopping, I will use this post to remind me of what a shitty idea it is
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