Happy Hunting

It must be fall!! Hunting is in the air. Grant has been hounding me about going hunting, even though we don't hunt, and have never even talked about it much. Everything they know about hunting is from Nephi's broken bow story and the story of Enos.


So, we set off to the great wilderness (a.k.a our neighbor's field) with backpacks filled with provisional Nilla Wafers and buckets and nets.
Once in the tall grass, we were attacked by several praying mantis, and managed to track down a little snake. Hunting trip a success!
Then we headed home to make sugar cookies for our out of town, but soon to be returning, dad.
They were hideous, but dad liked 'em (once they were covered up by a bunch of frosting.)Next day, we did it again. Pretty much caught the same things.
And it was just as cool.

This stuff never gets old, even to me.

A Paragon of Reverence

As we were getting ready to go to church, Grant asked, "Can I bring a real (battery powered) train to church? When the prayer doesn't come I will turn it on but when the prayer comes I will turn it off."

Meet the Beetles!

Grant: Dad, did you see how big of a punch I pulled?
Me: What?
Grant: It's right here!

Ah. Punch = beat = beet.

Later I heard Cole asking Grant, "Where did you get such a big punch?"

Clearly, I need to beet them more often.

Someone's Been Watching MY Cartoons...

I told the boys the story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears tonight because we had Bryn in the room and I was hoping she'd like the animal aspect of the story (she didn't care). As I was telling about Goldilocks eating Baby Bear's porridge, Grant said earnestly, "Dad, Goldilocks is really Bugs Bunny."

Yes. Yes he is...



Just wait 'till he discovers who Santa Claus really is.

(For those of you who aren't paying attention, it's the Grinch)

Crawdads Beware

I've had to limit our trips to the creek to once a day. I know, I'm a mean mom.
If I were a nice mom, I would just set up a tent and we would live at the creek,
because Grant has developed the eye for catching things. He's been honing his skills all summer, and fills our little bucket with creatures every time we go to the creek. The challenge of the hunt, and a love of all things alive and kicking is something I can totally identify with.

Every time we drive by our favorite creek spot, even Bryn yells, "CEEK, mama, CEEK."



(Notice our fancy new camo childrens waders. Snazzy.)