Random Shit My Son Says

Scenario: Me and the kids at Kmart in the beverage/pudding aisle.  Rylan's sitting in the buggy eating cheese puffs, Landon's riding on the front of the buggy, I stop at the Spaghetti O's. Short mexican guy comes speedwalking beside Landon's end of the buggy. Reaches up on the shelf and starts ripping open a brand new carton of Red Bull...takes out two...sticks them under his arm...speedwalks around Landon and keeps going.

Landon: ::watching the Mexican walk out of the aisle::   ::stares at me::    Holy cuss. Did he seriously just steal those drinks mama?

Me:  ::my mouth dropped open and eyes wide::  Uhm...well...yeah Landon. I think he just did.

Rylan:  ::chewing on cheese puffs looking at us both::

Landon: He's soooo going to hell for that, ain't he mama?

Me: That's for God to decide baby, not us. Let's go tell someone what we saw.

::explaining to associate what we saw::

Associate:  ::looks at Landon::  That wasn't very nice of that man was it? He was bad, huh?

Landon:  Yeah, he's real bad. But...well...mom's kinda bad too because my little brother dropped a whole bunch of cheese puffs in your floor, in the toys, and...well...my mom...well she didn't pick them up.  She kicked them underneath the racks.

Me: ::looking at lady::

Associate:  ::looking at me::

Me: I have nothing to say to that.

Associate: ::smiles:: That's ok.  ::walks away::

Me:  ::staring at Landon::

Landon: ::looking at me::  What?! You always say to tell the truth.

Me: Maybe next time you should wait and tell the truth AFTER I buy your toy.

Landon:  ::looks puzzled::  I have a lot to learn don't I mama?

What a Picture Can Hold

Something amazing happened to me the other day. Something simple and silly actually, but none the less exciting to me. Sometimes, as we get older, we forget that simplicity and freedom can often bring the greatest happiness. A friend I follow on Twitter reminded me of such a time when I once followed that motto. He posted a picture, this picture, and it summoned a memory from my youth. A memory that means nothing to anyone else, and it shouldn't.  I share it alone.

I close my eyes and see it. I see myself out of breath, trudging up the hillside. Wind blowing my pigtails and catching my bandana from the back of my hair and shaping it into a conical hat. My backpack weighs a ton and the oversized duffle bag with my life line (keyboard) hanging out of it doesn't help, but once I reach the top it's soooooo worth it. Little did I know then that all those days I walked a mile through the woods, fields, springs, and up that extremely steep hill with that heavy load was pretty much the metaphor of life itself. There's the top....there's the top....almost there....almost there....collapse. The grass is sooooo much cooler up here. Where's my water? I hate water, but it always tastes so good from the spring on the way up here. Still lying there, I look up, and see the clouds hustling by like they've got somewhere they need to be. But not me. Not today. Then here comes the wind again and the most amazing thing happened. All these little seeds began parachuting down in slow motion. Spinning and floating. Floating and spinning. Covering me, covering the open grass around me. I raise up and I had the most calming, collective, inspirational vision ever. I was overlooking my little neighborhood, like the many times before, but this time, this day, those tiny little soaring seeds sparked something in me and I saw things different. Up until that moment, I had always played the piano by ear. I had always sung, hummed a tune, etc. Picked up anything I heard and gave it my own "touch", but never stepped out of the safe zone. I had dozens of things go through my mind. All these random thoughts...phrases...ideas...words...notes.  Yep. That was it. That was the very first time I wrote a song. I wrote a song down on paper. It had actual lyrics, meaning, melody, etc.  Those tiny little fluttering seeds mirrored an underlying talent I had never known about. No one ever told me I could write my own music. No one ever told me that some of those amazing voices and songs heard on the radio were born and raised in tiny little nowhere towns like mine.

That day God exposed those tasseled seeds for a reason.I discovered a connection with God AND myself that I never knew existed. HE had given me that talent. HE had planted those artistic seeds inside me, but I had never known to 'water' and 'care' for them, so to speak.. I don't thank Him enough for that particular prescription (talent) that eases my troubled mind and heals the wounds this life has given me. My seed (talent) may not have grown to be the winning rose in the garden show, but it's beautiful to me.

A special thank you to Matt Wantland for taking this picture and posting it on his site.
http://projectoneonetwo.tumblr.com

Random Shit My Son Says

Me: ::tucking Landon in:: Ok bud, time for...wait..what..huh...what the cuss? Landon?! Why is there a dirty table spoon tucked under Collie Bear?


Landon: ::sigh:: It's not my fault. It's my boss' fault. 


Me: What? I mean huh, boss, who's your boss? 


Landon: He's a bad man mama. I messed up and joined the bad ninjas. Not the good ones, the bad ones. And these bad ninjas needed me to steal your dirty table soon.