Those Crazy Boys

It’s been a hundred years since I’ve posted anything about my sweet little Bald Kid. He’s still busy and hard at work in…Siberia. In fact, I found this picture on another missionary’s family website. She was taking a picture of the “leaders who came to teach them some new language skills,” and there was my boy, right at the front of the room. And to think, he use to be so shy!

He sent us this one to remind us all to be so grateful for our clean water. The nasty yellow and grey filters on the counter behind my boy are the old ones. They are suppose to be white…but they’re not. Blaugh! Thank you America for our clean water.  :}

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Next, he was trying very hard to impress us with his cooking skills. Apparently, he had made the Cheesy Egg Bake–as seen by the guy in the back eating it with his bare hands. Tacky boys, tacky.  He also made our special recipe Fruit Salad which is on the table in the back. Good, good…eat your fruit.

This one is some Ninja smorgasbord–not sure what that’s about–but he made Fruit Crepes and our Cheesy Lasagna. And again the guy on the right is eating it with his hands. How can I complain when MY boy seems to be having Snickers bars for supper? Sheesh. But seriously, who eats lasagna with their hands?!

And lastly, still keeping with our sort of food theme, we have here an Elder Sandwich. I don’t have the recipe for that, but obviously all it takes is some crazy boys forgetting how to make a bed and this is what happens.  :}

Ooooh, I miss this fellow. He says, however that he’s “having the time of his life and wouldn’t trade this experience for the world.”

What more could a mother want?

Well, other than to have the next 6 months go very, very quickly I mean.

Be well and safe my boy.

Birthday Boy

So here it is. The very day that my baby boy turns into…a real, live grown-up.

Of course he’s been great big and quite grown for a long time–but the adult-thing is official now.

So I guess he can go to the theater on the other side of the world, without his mother if he wants to. Ha. Look at that poor little Russian lady sitting behind those two American grizzly bears. She should get her money back, cause she’s gonna miss this one unless she changes her seat!

 

Oh, he’s a good, happy boy and I love him so much. It’s been a million years since he left and to be quite honest, I’m missing him dreadfully. He’s doing a wonderful job over there in Siberia, but the best news is that on his next birthday, he will be back home at last.

Trust me, I’m counting down the days!

Happy 21st Birthday my sweet, silly far, far away boy. Be well. Be safe. Be happy.

We love you and miss you more that you’ll ever know.

One Tough Cat

No, no…Beany’s not dead. He looks like it…but he’s just sleeping. Would you believe that this ancient kitty actually has a dislocated hip? Yeah, kinda gross, I know. He limps along without putting too much weight on it, but oddly enough he doesn’t act like it is causing him any pain. In fact, he even runs around and goes up and down the stairs…just on three feet instead of four. The doctor can’t fix it because cat hips aren’t like human hips–they can’t just be popped back in. So he has to just go slow and let the ligaments heal. Oh, and somebody asked me the other day–just how old this guy is anyway.

I’ll put it like this~ we have a picture of the Bald Kid—with a baby bottle in his mouth–holding Beany’s sister Squeeker as a kitten.

The Bald Kid turns 21…

tomorrow.

That would make old Beany-boy 96 in cat years.

Yeah, I think we’ll just let him sleep…right there…on the floor.

You’ve gotta be nice to old folks.

Cursed Counter

If you’ve seen the counter on the right side of my blog, you may have noticed that my cute little boy in Siberia will be home in just over 300 days. This sweet little timer makes me happy every time I look at it–especially since it has finally slipped below the year mark.

So, you can imagine my…ummm…dismay when I opened up my laptop the other day and saw…

this. Dismay is too calm of a word–more like heart attack!

Now, I’ll admit, every once in a while a missionary has been known to ask for an extension so that he can stay in his country a bit longer. But…what the…a TWELVE YEAR extension?!!

I think not.

Don’t even try it buster.

I know how to swim.