Knife Fighting in the White House [please refrain from]

We originally thought we would award the winner of the Tuley Baby Guessing Contest 2009 something genuine “Atlanta.” Admittedly, we were waiting to see who the winner was before selecting their award, thinking that the appropriate prize would just come to us. See, brainstorming beforehand had only generated a lengthy list of half-baked ideas. (A Mexican drug cartel? A fine collection of rap music? A container of MACE? Would anyone want dozens of our empty Coke bottles? Should we simply steal the winner’s car?) Since any and all future children will each be born in different parts of the country, we figured we could send a souvenir each time. However, the winner of the Tuley Baby Guessing Contest 2009 happened to be the sole participant residing in Atlanta, GA, or anywhere in the South, so our genuine “Atlanta” souvenir idea was sort of deflated. But, after much consideration, we believe we have come up with an even BETTER prize! We have decided to award JLS the following:

JLS will be the subject of the bedtime stories and moral allegories we use to instruct, entertain, edify, and scare the be-geezers out of E.

We couldn't be happier about this. I mean, JLS -- Rocket Scientist; Canadian Mounty; Hearty resilience to harsh, cold climates as well as hot, humid ones; Pro-level athlete; Confident; Clever; Sensitive; Adventurous; Responsible; Returned Missionary; Rock climber; World traveler; Boston marathon winner; Speaks Chinese, German, Russian, & Spanish; Reads Latin; Hikes mountains; Devours classical literature; Dislikes oppression and injustice; Loves his mommy [best]; Saves his money; Composes poetry; Plays piano, violin, classical guitar, & bass guitar; Spiritual giant; Gourmet cook; Helpful; Friendly; Courteous; Kind; Obedient; Cheerful; Thrifty; Brave; Clean; Reverent.

And this isn’t all. JLS’s name lends itself to immortalization in legend and myth, provided, of course, that we henceforth refer to him as “Johnny”S. Consider: Johnny Appleseed, Johnny Canal, Johnny Depp—all larger than life American heroes and icons. And now that JLS has become an official citizen of the good ol’ US of A, all our reservations have been wiped out. However, it is rather cumbersome to have a list of four legendary Johnnys… So…Johnny Appleseed? You’re out. Auf wiedersehen.

Yes, my friends, this is a truly fabulous prize. Likely, there are some broken hearts out there. May you find solace in knowing that you will* have the chance to participate in the Tuley Baby Guessing Contest 2010!


* “will” in no way guarantees the actuality of a baby guessing contest in the Tuley family in the year 2010.


PS: Special thanks to Liz and Russell.


[mom, here are some photos of Everest http://picasaweb.google.com/lyndseyandbrett/EndOfAugustEverest# ]

Do you know the Apple Man?

Before E came along, I used to be a real grocery-sale shopper. I had the time (at my job) to check the store ads each week. I’d make a list of the things that were on sale at each store and then I’d actually shop at each store for those specific deals. I knew what was a crazy high price for non-sale produce, and I’d avoid buying till the price came down.

Now, with baby in tow, I do none of that. I shop one store—I don’t even care which one. I never check ads for sales. I shop with a list, but I only have time to race through the store once, so whatever I don’t spot will simply not be purchased. Maybe I’ll see it next time. As I grab things from my list, I never even bother looking at the prices. Seriously, I just throw things in the cart and keep moving. I’ve got to get out of here.

So, yesterday, I showed up at a grocery store which I have heard is pricier than some others—but I didn’t really care because I also had to return a movie at the Blockbuster in the same shopping complex and I wasn’t about to tempt the fussies by stopping at two locations. As I raced into the store, I found myself in the produce section. The nearest display contains apples, which we needed. I pushed right past the display, grabbing a bag of apples without stopping. In former times I would never have grabbed already-bagged apples. I would have selected my own, thank you very much, and bagged them myself. I mean, who knows what sort of bad apples they may have placed in the bag in hopes that you won’t notice. And, if apples weren’t on sale, we would have gone without. Well, as I grabbed the bag yesterday, an old man who happened to be stocking the apples at that very minute offered the following unsolicited advice:

Apple Man: “You don’t want those apples.”

L: [stopping, startled] “Why not?”

Apple Man: [chuckling] “Those apples are $1.99 a pound. That’s a five pound bag. You’ll pay $10 for those apples!”

Huh? Aren’t you an employee? You should want to sell the apples you can. I’m a little annoyed by the chuckling, to say nothing of the remedial math. So, this Apple Man thinks the price at his store is ridiculous? Too high for people to be willing to pay? So, am I ridiculous? What if I DO want these apples, for reasons like getting out of here with a happy or sleeping baby? I am aware that it’s a five pound bag, and if the price were more important than my time, I’d have done the math myself. Time’s a’wastin’, Apple Man. But, as long as he’s stopped me (and since it appears I won’t get out of here with these bagged apples without accepting that I am a fool in the Apple Man’s eyes), I enlist his help.

L: “What are your cheapest apples?”

Apple Man: “These ones here are $1.79.”

Are you kidding me? That’s it? I happen to know that $1.79 is still crazy expensive (not that I care anymore)—a price that I would NOT have paid in the old days. But seriously, does he really think this is a deal? Now I’m the one chuckling. Like it’s worth it for me to stop, locate a plastic bag (because there never are any at the display you standing in front of), select my own 5 pounds of apples, and weigh them, all for $1 savings. I don’t think so, Apple Man.

--

In addition to several other produce items on my list, which I managed to shop for without ridicule, I hoped to find a spaghetti squash. B had put it on the list. But I didn’t see one as I made my way through the produce section, and I was not about to ask the Apple Man. Spaghetti squash is likely out of season and exorbitantly priced, although it would have given the Apple Man a hearty laugh. What ever happened to the customer being queen, I’d like to know?

Driver, why did we stop?

E is one spoiled baby. For many reasons. But sometimes you look at him (or at us) and his spoiledness is visible. Among the four strollers we wheel him around in, is a fancy-schmancy Burley bike trailer (this piece of equipment also has a jogger attachment, which is the reason I number it with the rest of the strollers). B rides often, I ride occasionally. But we bought the trailer primarily so that I could pull it on my bike while B jogs.

E is not yet stable enough to ride in his double occupancy chariot, despite the five-point harnesses. So, the other day, we strapped his car seat inside. He looked good reclining there and seemed to enjoy surveying the countryside as I pedaled him around the neighborhood. I might add that it was raining. But, he was all zipped in (yes, it has a lovely clear rain fly) and was cozy as could be.

I ride alongside B as he runs, but thanks to the invention of the wheel, I COULD be faster than him on the straight-aways and the downhills. The only place were he is generally faster than me is going uphill, so I try to get a bit of a head start. When/if he catches me, he usually signifies this by grabbing hold of the jogging push bar attached to the back of the trailer and pushing us the rest of the way up the hill. It’s a joint effort really. The Tuley Train. I’m sure we look quite silly. Me on a bike, pulling a baby in a trailer, with B pushing from behind…in the rain.