The Boys of Summer

Dear Jenny,
Thanks for letting your boys come for a visit this weekend.

Remember the last time they came to Burley? Bentley was so little, Max was learning to talk (and to moo), and Jonah's bones were still in that squishy, gelatinous stage.

Remember the last time they toured Becky's dairy? Well, they found it even more impressive this time around. Bentley used his fingers to flash the peace sign instead of plugging his nose.

Apparently, wearing a cowboy hat makes you immune to the smell of cow poop.

Jonah still spent a good deal of time with his finger up his nose, but I don't think that was smell related.

I think you will be happy to know that we took good care of your sons. We didn't put them in any dangerous situations. We certainly didn't let their three and two year old cousins take them on an unsupervised tour of the dairy.

When we took them to the fair for lunch, we made sure that they only tried the most nourishing dishes.

And we most certainly didn't let them go on any of those rides that you hate.

You know, the rides that you think are so deadly dangerous? The rides that make me sick just to look at their horrible spinning? The rides that are up so high your fearful-of-heights-mother

starts sobbing at the sight of? Yeah. We didn't let them go on any of those. And no little roller coasters either.

Instead, we took them to the educational exhibits and made sure they stayed hydrated with all sorts of vitamin filled heath drinks.

I'm sure that you will be pleased to know that we didn't spend their designated rest time engaged in any dangerous activities, the kind of activities that might require the services of a professional life-saver, for example. No sir-ee. None of that stuff for us. I mean, what kind of babysitters would we be if we... I don't know... maybe allowed one of your sons to be frequently tossed through the air at high speeds? We would never do anything that reckless. Especially not over and over again.

But if we had taken them swimming in a pool where there was no lifeguard on duty, we might have been a little confused by Maxwell's conflicting personalities. One minute he would be helping Jonah get to the side when his little bro had gotten in over his head...

... and the next he would be doing his best to drown his other brother. You might want to have the school counselor visit with him next week.

And while you are at it, you might want to make an appointment for Jonah too. The only thing he enjoyed more than cuddling with Dam-ma was watching Max try to wrestle Bent into a watery grave. If we would have taken them swimming, that is.
You should be happy to know that we made sure to avoid doing anything that might feed their newly acquired Hero Clix addiction. We most certainly didn't let Warren hook them up with a billion new game thingys. No enablers here.

When we went back to the fair that night, we didn't even consider taking your beautiful, cultured young gentlemen into those animal barns that you have issues with.

They didn't get close to any animals that were big enough to peck them, bite them, or kick them in the head.

We made darn sure that we didn't do anything that would encourage Bentley's fascination with the professional music business. We only let him stop and stare admiringly at drummers for 45 minutes each day. And when he said they were awesome, we didn't verbally agree with him.

We did take the boys to the rodeo, but they were too busy eating popcorn and cotton candy to feel any distress about possible animal cruelty. They weren't even distressed about wearing the bandannas for tough enough to wear pink night.

The only thing that did seem to distress them was the deep fried oreos. They apparently need a little more junk food experience before attempting to tackle something that advanced.

They liked to press the fence during the bronc riding and steer wrestling. They really loved it when the action got up close and personal. Jonah ended up with a face full of dirt after a particularly buckish bronc came by, but 45 seconds on Grandma's lap and a bag of purple cotton candy made it all better.

I think that you will be happy to hear that, out of all of the animal-related experiences they had over the last two days, one of their favorites was walking their beloved bat-eared-rat-dog. But don't worry about them rewriting "Smoke on the Water" lyrics to sound something like "Chloe the rat dog... peed on her walk". I would never have allowed or encouraged such a thing.

So, dearest older sister, I think we can all agree that this little outing was a success. So much, in fact, that Ruby should be able to join us for next year's fair and rodeo. Thanks again for letting us borrow them for 32 hours.

Love, Me

P.S. If they do happen to start singing about canine urinary functions, I would appreciate it if you would assume they made up the song in their primary class. Thanks!