Things My Father Should Have Taught Me

This is my dad.

Here he is doing his impersonation of Dwight from "The Office".

TANGENT ALERT!!!THE FOLLOWING PHOTOS AND COMMENTS HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH THE MAIN IDEA OF THIS POST.

Hummmmm. Now that I think about it, the only "offices" on TV when the above photo was taken belonged to Lt.Colonel Henry Blake... ...and Bob Newhart.

So I guess that would mean that Dwight is actually doing an impression of my dad. Cool.
TANGENT ENDED. WE APOLOGIZE FOR ANY INCONVENIENCES THE PRECEDING TANGENT MAY HAVE CAUSED.




I have learned many things from my dad over the course of my life, including my Sunday school teaching style, how to play golf, and the lyrics to many songs about bodily functions.

He has been such an important source of information, that I have almost forgiven him for mocking my unfortunate stand-on-end hair that plagued me for the first 18 months of my life.

Almost.

I really don't think a person can ever really recover from having a parent mock you at such a young age. (Of course, my dad whose name is HOMELY, knows of what I speak. At least my folks didn't name me "spike" or "Lightning Strike" or anything like that.)

But despite all of the important facts, skills, and "beans" song lyrics that he has imparted to me, he was extremely negligent in one aspect of my education.

I discovered this lapse in fatherly tuition just this week as I was preparing to participate in one of those classic Junior high experiences where health professionals come in and make the kids feel really uncomfortable. You know the one I'm talking about, right? Well, on Wednesday of this week, I found myself unable to assist the kidlets in learning about destructive behaviors that could ruin their lives because I had not be taught a specific piece of information by my dad. I was so ignorant in this particular area that I was forced to turn to the Internet to learns things that my own father should have instructed me on.



That's right.
It is red ribbon week and I had no idea how to tie a tie to wear for "Tie Wednesday". It is a sad, sad day when a girl has to go to strangers online to learn how to tie a half Windsor.

And what made the experience even more upsetting was the knowledge that my father had schooled all four of my brothers on the fine art of tie-tying. I realize that the boys needed this particular skill for things like church and missions and jobs and minor things like that, but would it have been too much to ask for the man who raised me to have enough foresight to see that someday I would need to know how to tie a tie so that I could support a bunch of 7th and 8th graders in a small farming community during a random red ribbon week activity day? Really. And I thought he loved me.

Lucky for me, the costume cupboard at school contained a single tie and the Internet contained a plethora of step-by-step tie-tying websites. So when the kidlets walked in on Wednesday morning, they saw a teacher who supported them in their efforts to remain drug free.



I'm still not quite sure how my wearing a tie accomplishes that, but I have to admit that after wearing my sweater and jewelry backwards all day earlier in the week for "Backwards Monday", "Tie Wednesday" was much more comfortable. And, as you can see from the photo below, I have learned an important life-skill that I will continue to use for many red ribbon weeks to come.

Of course, I may have to take personal days for red ribbon week for the next few years.

At least until I live down my participation in "Superhero Thursday."

I decided to recycle part of my costume from Monday's Halloween FHE and become "Duct Tape Girl" for the day. It was a little embarrassing for the first, I don't know, six hours or so, but it helped that a few of the kidlets had dressed up as well.

Thanks, Spencer and Ethan, for helping me fight drug use by wearing superhero gear today. If our mild embarrassment serves to keep one young person from giving in to the temptation of drugs or alcohol, then it was worth it. And who knows, maybe there really is some power in these random dress-up days. If having a few people wear their clothes backwards, sport poorly-tied ties, and don capes and masks for a week can help fight the war on drugs, maybe sporting silly hats or wearing pajamas to school could help stabilize the stock market and turn the economy around.
Wall Street take note.
Presidential candidates, you might want to look into it.
The Power of Dress Up Days...it can change the world.

Forget the GOP We Had Ourselves a G.O.(H).P. (Grand Old Halloween Party) Tonight!

As you can see from the photo below, I have always been a fan of Church Halloween Parties. This is me way back in the year mummble, mummble, ah humm, mumble clowning around with my rootin' tootin' older sister. I'm pretty sure my hair style in this picture was the result of my sister finding an unattended pair of scissors and luring me into the basement, but that is a story for another post.
This post is about me being lured to a party thrown by folks even sneakier than older sisters...Politicians.

But wait. I'm getting ahead of myself. I should start at the beginning, which just happened to be around 5 o'clock this evening. I had made it home from school and was getting ready for our branch Halloween FHE. We were supposed to come in costume and, since I went as a Harry Potter character last year, I decided I needed a new, cheap, exciting, cheap, creative, and cheap costume...so I decided to go as a Canadian.

It's not hard to become a Canadian for Halloween. All you need is...a shirt celebrating a Canadian holiday, a pair of big warm boots, a charming toque (hat, for all you non Canadians), a skirt made of duct tape, an OHIP card entitling you to "free" socialized health care, and a teensy tiny inferiority complex (Dude, I am totaly joking about that last one, Canadians. Really. So please don't leave comments on this post telling me I'm a hoser, ok?).



Throw it all together and you get a costume that would make a Mountie, his horse, and the moose he just shot all stand at attention and sing "O Canada" at the top of their lungs. Pretty cool, eh?

I was pretty excited about the party until I pulled up at the Hobson's house and discovered that the "party" had been an elaborate ruse to get unsuspecting branch members to attend a campaign event hosted by none other than Senator John McCain and his running mate Sarah Palin!

I have to admit, the experience felt a whole lot like the time when a cute little old (and very Republican) sister in our ward found out that my parents, the parents of six, count them SIX, children were Democrats. Apparently the thought of that many children being raised outside of the influence of the GOP moved her to offer to pay to send the lot of us to summer camp...Republican summer camp. You know, just to "help out."

Not that I have anything against Republicans. It's just that, as a registered independent (although, I did have a wild three-week fling with Libertarianism this summer...My heart will go on, Ron Paul, but I'll never forget you!) I would have preferred at least a special guest appearance by Ralph Nader (and really, when someone mentions "crazy Halloween parties", whose first thought isn't "Ralph Nader"?)

But as far as political events go, this one was pretty well planned. Not all of the usual John McCain supporters were in attendance. For example, Joe the Plumber couldn't make it but Wes the chef was more than happy to whip up some delicious refreshments. The tasty treats all had Halloween names...

...and were made from produce grown by nonunion workers.

And when it was time to dish up (after a blessing on the food, of course) McCain/Pallin supporters from all walks of life came together to eat conservative amounts of middle class food from the right side of the table while shunning the liberal temptations over on the left.

Eager to show that they are looking out for the millions of Americans who are feeling the financial pinch this election season, the GOP candidates happily welcomed their constituents who were in need of extra money to help pay their mortgages...and to pay for karate lessons so that they can rescue their family members from the liberal elite ninjas.

The distinguished senator even showed his middle class roots by playing "bartender", dispensing butter beer (the non alcoholic kind, mom. I was at FHE, not a family reunion). Here he is following in the great political tradition of getting the Indians all liqueured up before election day.

And Governor Palin kept busy showing off her baby and schmoozing with two of the campaign's biggest donation sources...the Chinese and pirates.

Because it was a Republican event, the military was out in force...

...as were the western cowgirl conservatives.

But, with election day coming closer, the McCain/Palin camp felt it was necessary to cover all their bases and reach out to some of the electorate who don't usually lean to the right when they enter the polling booth.

The witch vote, for example, could end up making or breaking this election.


And I have to admitt that I was suprised to see representatives from the storybook union at the party, but it all made sense when they pulled out thier NRA membership cards.

But die-hard republican supporters, like hula girls, Mormon missionaries, and Eastern European Barmaids were not overlooked in the race to win the undecideds.

But last minute electoral math wasn't the only political activity taking place during the party. Krystal the Hippie was busy making sure she had a room reserved in hotel Canada for the next time she decided to doge the draft or exercise civil disobedience by not paying her taxes.

And Little Miss Ruth Muffet took the opportunity to cut out the middle man and go right to the source of curds and whey production. Of course, she had to wait her turn to talk to bovine princess Diana, who was busy discussing clover subsidies with wood sprite Heather from the mythical creatures lobby.

Sister Woodhouse taught us all a valuable lesson in "throwing" an election during the "pelt the branch presidency with candy corn" game...

...while the branch presidency showed off their deft political moves while trying to catch as much corn as possible (insert your own government/taxes joke here...it's late and I'm tired).

At the end of the party, the McCain/Palin ticket demonstrated how "tolerant" they are by accepting some decidedly non conservative folks as fellow party-goers.

The simple fact that they welcomed Buella the Dallas Cowgirl/she-male cheerleader with open arms made me rethink a lot of my preconceived notions about Republicans.

By the end of the evening, I had become a McCain/Palin convert. I was ready to march down to the nearest polling place and cast my vote for the P.O.W. Powerhouse and his lovely assistant Caribou Barbie...alas, as a Canadian (a Canadian for Halloween), I am totally disenfranchised in this country. Pretty disappointing, eh? At least the party was worth crossing boarders for. And really, if all of the people featured in the photos in this post can put aside their differences and get along for a couple of hours, maybe there is hope for the the rest of the country after all.

Parents, Teachers, and Conferences

It is that time of year again.

The time of year when I get to sit down with the parents of my kidlets and discuss what goes on inside their cute heads when they are inside my cute little classroom.

The time of year when I feel like crawling under my desk to hide from the hoards of angry parents who I'm sure will storm the junior high gym in much the same manner that the pitchfork-carrying, torch-wielding villagers stormed Frankenstein's lab.

Thankfully, my fears always prove to be unfounded and more than slightly irrational. In my many years of teaching (in this case, many = 4 1/4) I have only had a handful of disgruntled parents and, although many of them were carrying pitchforks, they were carrying them for agricultural purposes, not bad-teacher-skewering purposes.
This week, my parent-teacher conferences went so well, I didn't even need to pull out any of the "teacher-speak" phrases I was given in teacher school. Phrases that were designed to deliver bad news in a less offensive way. For example, when a teacher says..."Your son has a remarkable ability in gathering needed information from his classmates," What she means is,
"The little sneak was caught cheating on a test." If the teacher says something like, "Karen is an endless fund of energy and viability," the real message is, "The hyperactive monster can't stay seated for five minutes."

Here are a few more for those of you who didn't attend teacher school...

Fantastic imagination! Unmatched in his capacity for blending fact with fiction.
(He's definitely one of the biggest liars I have ever met).

Margie exhibits a casual, relaxed attitude to school, indicating that high expectations don't intimidate her.
(The lazy thing hasn't done one assignment all term).

Her athletic ability is marvelous. Superior hand-eye coordination.
(The little creep stung me with a rubber band from 15 feet away).

But, like I said, I didn't need to use any of those this year because all of the parents who came to see me this week had raised smart, successful, respectful kids (and I am not just saying that becuase many of the parents who came to the conferences told me that they have been reading my blog). I didn't even have any of my infamous embarrassing conference moments, like during my first year when one of my 7th graders tried to set me up with his single dad, or last year when I stood up to plug my lap top in and my slip fell down around my ankles.

But even though this week's conferences were angry-parent-less and embarrassing-moment-free, I was still anxious for them to end so that I could drive to Idaho Falls to spend some quality time with those who mean the most to me...

...Sonic's Lemon-berry and Grape slushes.
Oh, and my family. I was excited to see them too.

My first stop after pulling off the freeway and into town was the school where my dad was helping to cook burgers for the first of the day's many Emotional Bowl tailgate parties (Orange Goalposts again this year!!!!) And no, he wasn't wearing orange in anticipation of the game...he always wears orange. Really. But that is s subject for another post.
Then I went over to my mom's school (she teaches 7th grade English too!) to help her set up her class website.

But the visit I was most anxious to make was to see my Idaho Niblets. Kenna was so excited to see me that she meet me at the door. ...and her cute little sister Kylie was patiently waiting in the living room for me to kiss and cuddle her.

Ooops. THIS is Kylie. Sorry. But I'm sure you can see why that is such an easy mistake to make.

My main duty as an aunt is to bring presents to my niblets. This trip, my presents were related to Kenna's new fascination: bull riding. She started watching Extreme Bull riding on TV when she visited my parents this summer, and now it is the only thing she wants to watch.
Her parents ended up buying her an "Extreme Bulls" DVD, which now plays at their house from the time Kenna wakes up in the morning until the she goes to sleep at night. I'll admit that bull riding is sort of an odd fascination for a not-quite-two-year-old, but not any odder than her cousin of the same age who is now obsessed with Dancing With the Stars.

So in conjunction with Kenna's bull riding fascination, I got both little girls cowboy hats. Pretty cute, eh? This is Kenna doing her impression of John Wayne trying to draw his guns after suffering partial face paralysis during a mini stroke (Kenna's impressions are very complex and demonstrate her higher-order thinking skills along with her love for classic westerns).

Kylie found her hat to be a little big and somewhat confusing, but I'm sure she will grow into it. Until then, I guess I will have to call her "Senorita Monchichi". After giving the girls their presents, it was their turn to show me mine. Their daddy (my brother) had managed to snag this cool Iron Man display thingy for me. I was very surprised and excited to use it in my classroom as the world's coolest bookcase. Unfortunately, Kenna had already bonded with Iron Man, so I don't think she is going to take kindly to the idea of me taking him away to Burley. It might make her angry.
And an angry Kenna is not a pretty picture. Cute yes, pretty no.


So I guess if I want to take Iron Man home with me, I am going to have to end the week the same way I started it...cowering under my desk shaking in fear.

F.H.E. with the P.A.B.

As you may remember from this post , my cute little town was hit with a major snow storm last week...16 inches in one day.
Really. Besides being very inconvenient for the valley's football players and farmers, the snow also derailed our cute little branch's schedule for the week's Family Home Evening. This being October, we had planned on raking leaves as a service project (partly because we love to serve and partly because of the old singles ward superstition that the more service you do pre-marriage, the better looking your future eternal companion will be...but mostly because we love to serve...) but when the snow began stacking up we decided to swap our rakes for snow shovels and serve by digging the neighborhood out. We had good intentions (because the superstition also states that, by doing said service in inclement weather, you may score a good-looking and wealthy future E.C.) but we failed to factor Idaho weather into the F. H. E. equation. The temperatures ended up rebounding on Monday. By the time Family Home Evening rolled around both the snow and our dreams of hot, rich spouses, I mean SERVICE had melted away. Mother Nature was seriously messing with us. We couldn't shovel because there wasn't any snow on the sidewalks, but we couldn't rake because there was too much snow on the grass.

The leaves just sat there on the slow-melting piles of snow, next to the pristine sidewalks, mocking us. Any lesser branches, in the face of such vicious leaf-mocking, would given up and gone home...but not the P.A.B. Instead our leaders came up with another way for us to serve...
...by going bowling. And for those of you wondering how bowling counts as "service", let me remind you that with the current state of our nation's economy, every little bit helps. That includes renting ugly shoes for a whole branch of young single adults. It's called "economic stimulus" folks. I'm sure President Bush will be sending us some kind of medal any day now.

So since we "served"last week, this week's FHE was dedicated to learning about people whose church-activity-related-plans got even more messed up by early winter storms than ours did.

Brother Barker, using a power-point presentation, cool signs, and the world's biggest map of Wyoming, shared the history of the ill-fated Martin and Willy hand cart companies, along with his personal experiences retracing their trail of frozen tears over the summer.

And after his testimony-strengthening presentation, the time was turned over for us to do what singles branch members do best.
We wandered around the room checking out our options.

And it was a great night for perusing the bounty of our branch.

The above-average attendance really provided a delicious variety of shapes and sizes and looks to choose from.

It was hard to follow the counsel of our branch leadership not to "settle on one" for the night, but to mingle and give all of the mouth-watering options a chance to win our affection.

A few of us succumbed to love at first sight as we were introduced to the sumptuous creations sitting across the room. Others rekindled long-forgotten romances with old friends they had spent time with at countless family gatherings and ward activities.

Love was in the air. I even ended up taking a sweet thing home with me to nibble on later.

I am talking, of course, about the wonderful spread of refreshments that were available for our first annual branch dessert cook off.

What?

What did you think I was talking about?

Never mind. I don't want to know.

Let's focus on the refreshments instead. Don't these look great?

Really. Whose mom wouldn't be thrilled with the idea of their single son or daughter bringing one of these good looking "dishes" home to meet the family?
And when you consider the calorie count associated with all of these desserts, this could end up being the longest relationship many of us have ever had (I know those delicious brownies are going to be spending a good deal of time walking around with me...I'm sure I'll see them every time I walk into a dressing room to try on new jeans).
At the end of the night Sister Hobson and Zealanda gave out various prizes for the dessert categories. Because we are into living the law of cooking contest consecration, everyone who donated their time, talents, and tasty tidbits walked away with a prize. But it was our Branch President whose offering made the biggest splash. His "My Wife Wasn't Home To Help Me" Dessert (green jello with sliced hot dogs...yes, hot dogs) won two awards, including the sustenance prize which was given to the dessert that would have best kept starving pioneers alive. As President Jones would say, "It's all about the protein."
I'm sure there are a lot of other dating and marriage related lessons we could take away from our activity tonight. The stories of the hope-crushing sufferings of the saints on the plains alone could keep us going with dating metaphors for weeks, maybe for months....

....which is probably the same amount of time it will take me to repress the memories of the hot-dog jello.