By the way..... Why do we in the United States reserve the right for ourselves to call ourselves "Americans" when Canadians and Mexican Nationals are also Americans? This is a clumsy puzzle to try to solve. "They" call themselves Canadiens and Mexicans with fluidity and without conscious effort. But if we decided to be more precise than to use the catchall generic word "Americans", what would that specific word or phrase be? United Statesers? Yu-ess-ers? Oreo Fillings? (well, we are sandwiched between those other countries.) CLUMSY!
Oh, I may have it! I get it! We are the United States of AMERICA! Duh. Hey, Flagboy, follow this train of thought: America. American. Canada and Mexico don't include the continent in their name. We may have something here. Whew. That was easy. For a moment I was thinkin' that I may have to try to mount a campaign to get us called the Ves Puggis. Amerigo Ves Puggi? Get it? Ves Pucci? Look up the spelling for yourself. I'm tired.
Good grief. I am using three paragraphs on one little BTW. But what about South America..... Aren't they Americans too? Shouldn't Their feelings be considered? Huh? Huh? Oh. Wait a minute. They don't include their continent either. I'm guessing here. Have you ever heard of the Bolivian States of America? Or the Argentine States of South America? I'd better be careful. I could start a controversy that would end in a revolution. Now, that's just plain profiling! I'm outa here.
Anyhoo, the reason for this blob is to tell ya about Eli's birthday party. When a kid gets to be four years old , he is the master of his big day. Eli understood everything. 2 and 3 year olds don't always understand everything. We brought him a kit to build a "Snoopy" gingerbread house. He wanted to go right to work on it, but his wise mom told him he would need to wait for a more advantageous day. Incidentally, that day came yesterday or today at the home of Linny-Loo, Kaydence-Too and Mister-Quoo. A BIIIGGGGG gingerbread project is underway. We're jealous.
Eli didn't throw a fit or even complain at all when he got put off a bit on his timeline. Now, that's maturity! Barb and her ma were sitting at the table talking about things in general when Barbara said, "Eli is being too quiet!" She ran, but she was too late. Eli was into the gumdrops for the gingerbread house! Now, that's smarts. That Eli. He has it all. Including timing. He knew when to make his move.
Our glorious magical moment on the mountain came and went too soon. Eli wanted to ride in the Cooper (rhymes with Trooper, hee hee) to the bottom of the hill. His mommy needed to fill some five gallon water jugs anyway, so it was a deal. He chattered all the way down. A real added bonus for Grams and Gramps. He rode with us all the way to the artesian well.
Ah, the artesian well. Artesian water is the nectar of the gods. Artesian wells are the lifeblood of the mountains. (I'm making this up.) But, still, I was excited for this artesian delight. I picked up the hose and went glub glub. Swig swig. Glug glug. Barbara shrieked, "Dad, nobody DRINKS that water." Oh, thanks. When we arrived home 2 hours later she was on the phone. "Are you sick yet?"
She has been concerned from that moment to this. I can safely say that my physical health is fine. Just fine. Question.....why isn't she all that concerned about my mental health where the real problems are? From Granny and Grumpy, love to all.....................Flagboy. Hmmmm..... maybe I will lobby for more respect......Love, Flagman
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