My Wife Knows Everything

I am a both a failure and a liar. But I had good intentions.

Remember when I told you I had special plans for an upcoming Santa Saga? One entitled, Midnight Meat? Well I did, but now I don't.

I planned to tell the story orally through a video blog. I even went over to my friend Brad's house this morning so he could help me film it. He is my unofficial technical guru, and by the way his wife Jayme, writes a great blog, except she doesn't post often enough and she uses the dreaded MySpace to host it. But don't let either of those factors stop you. Go here and read what she has to say, and encourage her with your comments to post a bit more often.

My wife has always thought my idea to do a video post was a bad one, and once again she has proven to be correct. We did film it. I stood there like an idiot and told a story that I have recounted a thousand times to friends and whatnot, but the finished product was ... crap for lack of a better word, so unless you can bribe Brad the orally version of Midnight Meat will never see the light of day. Y'all will have to settle for a plain vanilla written version sometime in the near future. Sorry.

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I had conversation with my boys today that y'all might get a chuckle out of.

We were riding down the road talking and my youngest, 5 kept asking what various things were made out of.

"Dad, what are cars made of?"
"Metal, plastic rubber, fiberglass."
"What's fiberglass?"
"Just stuff they make cars out of and use to insulate your house."
"Is it glass?"
"Sort of, but they spin it like cotton candy and then I think sometimes they heat it up to make it hard and make shapes."

I'm sure that is not entirely accurate but I was trying to appease a five year old on the fly.
Seconds later, "Dad, what are airplanes made of?"

"The same stuff." I glanced in my rear view mirror and could tell he was searching for another object to ask about so I decided to head him off.

"What are you made of I ask."
I dunno," he said.

This is where my seven year old chimed in. "I know what we are made of."
"What?" I asked.
"Meat," he said.
To poke some fun at him I said, "Chicken meat."
"Nope," He proudly raised his chin and proclaimed, "I'm made of man meat."

Cracked me up anyway. And more accurate than snails, tails and puppy dog tails.