Politically Incorrect

You know something I appreciate about my mother-in-law? Her sense of humor. And the fact that she does not expect her grandkids to be anything more than KIDS. An example:


That is the birthday card she received from my son yesterday during one of our longest restaurant experiences on record. He worked long and hard on it, and yes, it says, "Happy Birthday to you, you live in a zoo (#1Grandma!), you sml like a monkey, and you look like one too!" (She chose to interpret it as "SMILE like a monkey" and thank him for the compliment, but he assured her that no, he really meant "SMELL," he just ran out of the appropriate letter stickers.)

I know she is just going to treasure that one forever.

I am so boring, apparently, that all I could come up with to give her was a homemade card with FLOWERS, and a bag with little gifts for an afternoon teatime -- monogrammed mug from Anthropologie, tea, book by favorite author Nicholas Sparks, pumpkin ginger pound cake-scented candle that's supposed to burn for 35 hours. I mean, how staid! How insufferably lacking in juvenile humor!

And speaking of juvenile humor ... if you live in Austin, you know that all the major intersections are populated by homeless folks hoping for some charity. Since my dear husband is AGAINST giving out cash, but at my insistence wants to honor the children's generous instincts, he came up with the idea of handing out cans of beans.

Today, we saw a man on the corner by our local HEB. Caroline shrieked, "A HOMELESS MAN! Quick! Let's give him a can of beans to make him TOOT!"

Clearly, at least for this child, flatulence trumps charity any day.