more pics (good witch, bad witch), with some words mixed in (colston exacts his revenge)

it's that time of year again when a good little mormon girl known better known as my wife, gets dressed up like a person who makes a habit out of practicing in the art of black magic and joins a coven of like-dressed individuals to sip some word of wisdom forbidden tea, aka witches' tea.  isn't all hallows eve great?

seriously, i really enjoy halloween.  of course, i'm the guy who made the pitch for salem over cape cod and have always wanted to tour the haunted mansions advertised in the airport of new orleans.  as i've said before, i'm a sucker for the supernatural.  i'll admit it, i love the prevailing spooky atmosphere, the excuse to dress up and pretend to be someone you're not, and the desire to watch scary movies.  problem is, with all the costume parties and technological advancements in children's costumes, halloween is becoming almost as expensive as Christmas.

when i was a kid, a costume pretty much consisted of a sheet, some hand-me-down clothes, or a plastic jumpsuit with a character printed on it and a cheap plastic mask.  now, my kids get all diced out in body armor suits that feature ripped abs, biceps and pectoral muscles.  and then there's the adult costumes... i found a pretty sweet green lantern costume that i was really tempted to purchase because it actually looked like green lantern, but it was too pricey.  aim, on the other hand, doesn't have as much self control as i do and she has more reasons to dress up.  problem is, most female adult costumes in this day and age seem to be patterned after the wardrobes (or lack thereof) of many of the professional dancers making a living in this town.  i can hardly take my kids with me to shop for costumes anymore.

at any rate, as noted above, the costumes aren't cheap and it doesn't seem like we can just stop at one anymore.  for starters, we did a group theme thing with some friends at a get together last weekend.  i must admit, we looked good and it was fun, but, i don't know that i'll ever wear the stuff i wore at that party again and i wasn't even trick or treating there.  then tonight, aim threw on the witch garb and got her broomstick on as you can see in the pics.  side note: if i must, i'll take credit for the white witch idea and, yes, i think she looks amazing, so deal with all the pics or skip over them.  so far, aim = two costumes, jer = one.  then colston wanted to be the flash, jameson wanted to be snake eyes, and luckily caleb chose one we already had in stock: beyond batman.  i don't even want to do the math.

plus, if i throw in the cost to replace the window colston broke last week, and the dvd player he ruined, or the couch cushions he drew on (yes, all last week), then i start to really get depressed.  then there was his incident from last night.

so, i was sitting in the kitchen talking to a friend when all of a sudden colston comes down saying he's hungry and goes straight for the candy.  i shoot that down in a hurry and tell him to go to bed (it's like 9:30), but he pretty much ignores me and keeps saying he's hungry.

i assume he's really not hungry but just wants candy, so i don't give him anything.  he persists, so i finally give him some grapes and a cookie and send him on his way.  i don't hear from him the rest of the night and conclude that he's either passed out due to severe starvation or gone to sleep.  either way he's being quiet.

fast forward to this morning.  the boys are getting ready for school and the older two head into where  colston is sleeping.  all of a sudden i'm hearing all this talk from the room about how colston has pooped his pants.  my first thought is that it's not likely seeing as how he's potty trained, but the complaints keep coming.  my next thought is, well if he did drop a deuce in his drawers, at least its contained within his drawers which means there will be minimal mess to clean up on the bed, floor, windows, and any other conceivable thing you'd never think a kid could get doo doo on.

but then, the words that pierced my ever so sensitive ear drums left one of the boys mouths: "he pooped on the floor."  at this moment a feeling of extreme frustration overcame me as this is not the first time colston has dropped trou and unloaded in his bedroom.  usually it's number one, but it's not like that's any better.  at that point i go into his room to get to the bottom of this and tell him to clean it up.  of course, he's too tired to do it; but, i'm not about to let him slip out of this one because he's conveniently tired, so i tell him he's still going to have to take care of it when he gets up.

next thing i know i'm out of the shower and catching some breakfast downstairs on my way out the door.  before i leave i pause to ask my wife is she was aware of the fact that colston had gone number two in his room upstairs. the main reason i do this is to make sure that in case colston hadn't cleaned it up yet, she would take care of it before i got home (that's a veteran move right there).  well, it just so happens that she had heard the news and, in an effort to keep me informed of what's going on in our children's lives, she relayed to me that when she asked colston why he pooped on the floor in his room, he told her the reason.

his reply: because i was hungry.

this can only lead me to believe that this was his passive aggressive way of getting even with me for not giving him any candy the night before and sending him to bed: going number two on his bedroom floor.  it's pretty funny actually if it's not your kid, but, as luck would have it, colston is just that: my kid.

in closing, let this be a lesson to us all:  the next time you don't get what you want, public defecation is an effective form of retaliation as it makes a powerful, if not pungent, statement without anyone getting hurt.

well played, son.  well played.

hurry... somebody write this down: bladder augmentations

in this day and age of elective cosmetic surgery where typically any and everything bigger is better, i think we might be on to something here: bladder augmentations. i know such a procedure would improve the cooperfive's lifestyle dramatically. especially during movies. especially during road trips. especially when you are the father of three boys which roughly translated means dad is the only one who can accompany the offspring to the loo anymore. more on this later.

before i get into what now might seem to be my quarterly post, i owe my loyal zombies an explanation. true, i may have let you down last month by not authoring a single post and then waiting all the way until the 21st of this month to finally go ahead and share my unsolicited opinions. i know it's rough trying to get by each day without the occasional sermon from the blogmaster and for that i apologize. i never meant to abandon or hurt any of you. all i can say is i'm sorry. that and i've been a little short on inspiration lately. and when the inspiration has come, the motivation hasn't been there. bottom line: it's hard out here for a semi-professional blogger trying to chase that dollar in this economy. please forgive me and return to the fold. i won't let it happen again.

now, as far as bladder augmentations, i really see a burgeoning industry about to blossom here. take for instance 4/5 of the cooperfive, that 4/5 being every member of the clan except for me, and their lima bean sized bladders. i can't relate. it's like i don't even know these people... i mean, they'd rather urinate and be comfortable than get to a destination more quickly or sit uncomfortably through a throw-away scene during a movie. i don't get it because i, on the other hand, have jedi-like internal discipline that gets me through just about any meeting, movie, or drive across half the big island of hawaii just because i was determined to hold it in.

my point in mentioning this topic has something to do with my recent jaunt in public restroom hell. said jaunt took place about a month ago when the greater cooper family was on one of its annual outings to go see the grand canyon. long story short, we never made it to the grand canyon, but that's a post for another day. we did, however, successfully arrive at the world renowned vacation destination more commonly known as jacob lake while en route to the grand canyon.

jacob lake is a little spot on the way to the north rim that has a restaurant with good milkshakes. we stopped here to regroup our family caravan after the cooperfive made a brief stop in kanab to get mrs. blogmaster's foot x-rayed (another post for another day). that was before mrs. blogmaster got strep throat which was before she got pink eye which was before she got mono (all posts for another day). meanwhile i have managed to escape the carnage of attacking viruses and germs unscathed. kind of like will smith in i am legend. or superman in everyday life.

anyway, the cooperfive got to jacob lake just as big jeff and special k were high-tailing it back into their car in an effort to catch the grand canyon before having to be back to st. george to see tarzan at tuacahn that night. this is how greater cooper family vacations go: a hybrid of boot camp and a field trip on steroids. i wasn't about to get out of dodge that quickly, though. we had just gotten there and i had to try one of the milkshakes at the restaurant there in town as we had been told these shakes were the stuff dreams are made of. for those who are unaware, i love ice cream and all its derivatives... including milkshakes.

for me, at least 50% of an enjoyable vacation hinges on the quality of food you are able to eat. if there is a reputable milk shake place in a town i visit, i must try it. it's pretty much natural law. and not only must i try it, but i will eagerly anticipate the cool soft creamy consistency of milk, whipping cream, and sugar touching my tongue over and over in my mind until i do, in fact, try it. ice cream is the ultimate game changer, mood swinger, and tool of bribery all rolled up into one. and so, such was the mood i was in while eating lunch, biding my time patiently, knowing it would only be a matter of minutes before it would be just me and a cup of frothy and delicious milk shake.

in moments like that, i can withstand just about anything as it seems that i'm in the departing gate of an airplane bound for some blissful make-believe world where the refrigerator is constantly stocked with quality ice cream and frozen yogurt dispensers are a standard fixture in every kitchen. deep down inside i know such a world does not exist, but sometimes it feels so real to me.

and so there we were. eating lunch and surveying the menu to decide which flavor of milk shake each of us would get. it wasn't all that different from opening birthday presents, but on someone else's birthday. everything was going just as i had dreamed it would until caleb says the words that when spoken in the public arena are like poison being slowly dripped into my ears.

"i've got to go potty."

maybe aim will take him. not a chance. he's way too old and it's always my turn when we're together, especially on vacation. plus, she was on crutches at this point.

i say something like, "fine, let's go. make it quick."

so, we go to the restaurant's restroom which, unfortunately, is in a very narrow hallway and roughly the size of two porta-potties glued together: not only difficult to get into and out of, but difficult to maneuver to the urinal and toilet once you are in there.

it was like negotiating a rubik's cube. say there, kind sir, can you take a step back while i open the toilet door? now you, stranger, over there take one step to the left while i slide sideways into the stall. once i'm inside, you'll need to move back to your original position so i can close the door. after that, you two are on your own. needless to say, we made it.

no big deal. i can handle taking one kid to the public restroom. no skin off my back, i've got a big fat famous milkshake coming my way. not so fast, my friend, for no sooner do i go to order when mrs. blogmaster tells me that now colston has to go to the bathroom, too. i feel a hint of frustration start to swell somewhere within my upper bosom, but i just tell myself "milkshake, man. keep your eye on the prize."

off i go with son #3 (luckily son #1 is fully potty trained and capable of using a public restroom on his own). of course there's a line for the restroom by now and we wait. we finally get in and navigate the internal labyrinth, more efficiently this time, but colston's the kind of kid (like his dad, i'm ashamed to admit) that has to drop trow’ all the way down to his ankles when urinating in the urinal. don't ask me why. we just do it because we can, i guess (not that i do it anymore, i quit years ago. he can still get away with it, though).

colston takes care of business. we exit. a load has been lifted off my shoulders thinking the only thing now keeping me from enjoying my milkshake is the speed at which those puberty loving teens behind the counter can whip it up. not fast enough, apparently, for no sooner had i secured my milkshake in hand and begun to enjoy every bit of it and its delectable divinity that mrs. blogmaster motioned over towards son #2 anew and said, "he's got to go to the bathroom again."

you've got to be kidding me. he just went 10 minutes ago. can't you see i'm eating a milkshake here? am i a pigeon? is this a hot dog? what's gives?

"i think he had a bit of an accident," she says. "he told me he thought he was passing gas, but something came out (pardon the detail, faint of heart zombies)."

you've got to be kidding me... did i already say that?

in that moment i literally felt the seed of frustration already firmly planted in my fertile bosom start to spring forth a mighty stem with powerful branches budding at a break-neck pace.

"caleb, let's do this." i resolutely demanded.

back to the bathroom, through the maze, into the stall, to grandmother's house we go...

"let's survey the damage, caleb." off came the drawers and sure enough, there was some skid markage.

"looks like you're going commando for the rest of the day, son." that didn't seem to bother him, but then again i'm the one who had to clean the underwear there in the enclosed stall. i guess i could have left them there, but that didn't occur to me. then another issue popped up: what do i do with the shorts once i wash them? do i just walk out of here with a pair of little boy's underwear in my hand? not a chance. that can mean only one thing: i've got to hide them in one of my pockets. so, i did. luckily, i had cargo shorts on.

that was no fun. but i did it and there was still plenty of time to enjoy my shake. what could possibly go wrong now?

maybe son #3 having to go to the bathroom again. that's right, my two youngest boys both had to go to the bathroom twice each within a 20 to 25 minute time period all while i was trying to enjoy my milk shake. not a good situation for me.

at this point, the budding frustration in my bosom had full-on blossomed into a mighty redwood as i marched over to colston who was standing outside the front door of the restaurant where several other old people had congregated to wait for a seat. i stepped up to colston and leaned over to ask him if he really had to go to the bathroom or if he just wanted to ruin his dad's life (just kidding, i just asked him if he really had to go or if he wanted to go because he had seen his brother go. it happens all the time).

unfortunately, he wasn't as interested in answering my question as he was in showing me the butterfly he had just noticed in the potted plant he was inspecting.

"look dad, a butterfly."

"do you really have to go to the bathroom?" was my uninterested reply.

"dad, a butterfly."

in my head: son, i'm about ready to stomp on that butterfly, although i'm starting to think you don't have to go due to your lack of a response. i must confirm this suspicion, though.

so, i ask again:

"colston, do you really have to go?"

he's still not looking at me or acknowledging my question at this point so i grab the top of his head and turn it until his face is facing mine in order to get his full and undivided attention. his eyes, however, stay fixated on the butterfly.

seriously? does it really have to be this hard?

i then ask him one last time, somewhat sternly, "hey, do you really have to go?" he nods his head, yes. at this point, i'm at my witts end and to make matters worse i hear one of the older ladies not sitting far from us, who apparently had been observing the entire exchange between colston and me, say, "oh, look at the pretty butterfly," in an effort to acknowledge the observation of the poor little boy whose dad couldn't have cared less about his precious discovery. for, here was an opportunity to enjoy the beauty of nature outside of one of earth's most spectacular stages with my youngest son and all i could think about was running him to the bathroom so i could enjoy my shake. but, it was a good shake. and so, for one last time in that span of just under 1/2 hour i made my way back to the hobbit sized public restroom, with which i was on a first-name basis at this point, so colston could hit the stall and take care of some grunts.

i sat there observing the boy with my arms folded thinking that if anything can redeem this series of visits to public restroom hell, it was my milkshake which i left safely in the hands of mrs. blogmaster. even then, i could picture it in my mind sitting there loyally waiting outside for my imminent return. that would calm the storm. that would put me at ease and cause me to forget all my worries and allay all my fears.

and with that thought in mind, we triumphantly made our way back outside to be reunited with my cup of ice cream. but then, as i reclaimed my milkshakelike, like a giddy little school girl, from my dutiful wife and raised the straw up to my anxious lips, i looked down into the cup only to see no more than a 1/2 inch or so of melted milkshake remaining. i was devastated. it was a betrayal of the most devious kind. i felt as though i'd been double crossed by both the milkshake and my wife. the milk shake failed to repel the glutinous sips of my dubious wife in an act of duplicitous, not to mention gratuitous, reciprocation. i was so disgusted i couldn't even finish the damaged goods left for me and i summarily discarded the cup into the closest trash can before stomping over to the family car.

the drive back to st. george that afternoon wasn't a pleasant one. it started with a vociferous lecture from me to the boys in which i established a decree in the family of cooper that never again would there be two quick trips to the bathroom in this family when there could be one. not on my watch. i tried to get them to understand this concept, but i'm afraid my pleas fell on def ears. on the other hand, my stink eye stares in mrs. blogmaster's direction were certainly not without merit as my message of supreme immaturity and rank selfishness was received loud and clear.

but, then to top it all off, it was as if the demons who dwell in public restroom hell, who seemed to be zeroed in on the blogmaster that day, ready and willing to torment me at every possible moment, had orchestrated one final act of mischief to put me over the edge. for at long last after we had trekked down and arrived at our seats towards the bottom of the tuacahn amplitheater to see tarzan, and as i set my drink down (which was then serving as a poor man's substitute for the milk shake that had been so coldly taken from me earlier that day) which subsequently tipped over due to my lackluster efforts to hide the drink from the grabbing hands of the kids who would have surely robbed me yet again of the blissful joy i was expecting to experience from another sugar-laden treat, and as the soda seeped across the ground like a spreading pool of blood oozing from a wounded body, mrs. blogmaster tapped me on the shoulder and pointed down at colston who was informing us anew that he had to go to the bathroom... again.

you can't make this stuff up.

that was just the start of it. after that whole ordeal we made the mistake of going to see a 2.5 hour movie with the kids and buying them adult sized drinks beforehand. i kid you not, jameson left the theater no less than five times to use the restroom. i think he missed one hour of the movie.

then most recently, on our way to idaho, mrs. blogmaster informed me she needed to use the restroom. duly noted, love, i thought at the time. but as we cruised up 1-15 and as my mind jumped back and forth among the myriad issues a driver at high-speed with multiple passengers in the car has to consider, i drove right by an exit leading to a perfectly suitable restroom facility.

my bad.

only then did i inquire as to whether mrs. blogmaster would be able to make it to the next stop, which who knew when that would be. she then informed me that when she says she has to go to the bathroom on a roadtrip, that she has to go right then and there is no time to wait. thing is, the time immediately before that request, some 30 minutes earlier, she told me she had to go, but that she could make it for another 15 minutes or so.

go figure.

after pleading my case for a minute or so, in an attempt to clear my good name as a husband who does want his wife to be able to urinate when she needs to, mrs. blogmaster stated that when she tells me she needs to go, she expects my one goal in life to become the deliverance of her to a restroom facility. thus, in summary, life, eternal salvation, my job, the safety of others, and much, much more can all take a back seat to aim's urge to pee.

and to think all of this could have been so easily avoided with a few bladder augmentations.

the anniversary but not before a quick political disclaimer

if you don't want to read about my politics, skip the stuff in ittalics:

i just got on the blog to post about phase 2 of the gauntlet and noticed an ad addressing health care reform linking you back to harry !@#$'s website (for those new to the blog, !@#$ is used in place of the four-letter word "reid"). as a disclaimer, i do not in any way shape or form endorse harry !@#$ or the healthcare reform bill that was recently passed. i also don't endorse any stake conveniently holding firesides for brother !@#$ during an election year, but don't get me started...

as for health care...

i, like anyone with a heart or conscience, admit that health care needed some changing and credit to the democrats for having the anatomy to actually do something about it. unfortunately, according to friends of mine who are native to other countries with the very kinds of health care systems the left covet but who have also lived in america as non-resident aliens (note to zombies: these friends are anything but conservative), something moving towards a universal system is not any better than what we have now... their words, not mine. in fact, more often than not, the reason some of these individuals came to america was to escape the health care of the other country, ie canada. both systems have their pros and cons, but more often than not I have heard negative commentary from people i know and trust who have actually lived in and dealt with both systems.

plus, i think there is also the issue of whose corruption and cronyism you trust more: the governments' or the capitalists' because you are flat out lying to yourself if you try to claim that a given side is immune from either. i tend to side with adam smith and the invisible hand because the market is less binding and generally responds more quickly and willingly to consumer dissatisfaction and similar market forces than the government does (those pesky set terms and the ability to make law and all); that being said, we need both forces at work as together they serve as a nice check and balance against each other.

this reform may bring some balance to the spectrum, but most of us gun-toting free market capitalists fear that this may be a step in the wrong direction (for the record, i don't own a gun, but i do own several light sabers). for if political geniuses like sean penn and bill maher get their wish and this system drives insurance out of business, eliminates competition, and leaves the government with all the power... well, you know what they say about absolute power and barney frank and fannie may and freddie mac. i'm happy to be proven wrong, but i am inherently incapable of admitting that politicians can get things right unless, of course, i agree with them.

last word on this, my main concern is that if this new system disincentives some of our best and brightest from the medical field, in other words if the quality and cutting edge advancement of our health care services goes down because the prestige/financial incentive evaporates from the field, the words that come to mind to describe my feelings towards those who passed this legislation in spite of major opposition to it are too strong to utter on this blog.

that is all. i've vented and now i'm going back to semi-professional blogging in the comedic arena full-time. politics gets me too riled up and into too much trouble with friends.

the cooperfive recently spent a few days in san diego while i was there for a work seminar. san diego is a pretty sweet city. we used to spend a week or so there each summer growing up in the mission beach area, but i'd never really spent much time downtown in the gas lamp district. i know they recently revitalized that whole area, so it wasn't as cool then as it is now, but i was really impressed. i kept having to ask myself why we don't come to visit more often, but then i'd remember that it's because it costs money.

not long before the san diego trip, aim and i celebrated our 12th anniversary. it was a fairly uneventful celebration this year as mrs. blogmaster requested that we not do much. being a guy, i actually thought she was serious about that... on second thought, she probably wasn't. but, hey, we've only been married 1 and 1/5 decades, how am i supposed to know that kind of stuff yet... give me some time to get to know her a little more.

at any rate, we spent the evening watching a show i don't really recommend called "diary of a mad black woman" or something like that. i'm almost ashamed to even admit that we had the dvd, but someone at work whom i trust almost implicitly when it comes to movie recommendations recommended it and actually gave me a copy of the dvd to watch, so after we'd had it for like 6 months and there was nothing at red box, the dvr, or on tv, we finally gave in.

it had a few funny lines here in there, but overall i felt like i was watching a seminary video or that love dare movie fireproof i wrote about a while ago, but for the bet channel. interesting, but not my cup of tea.

the movie is about some pompous wealthy lawyer who treats his wife like garbage and eventually kicks her out. she, in turn, finds true happiness through some young handsome thing with sweet cornrows who works for a moving company by day and the tv show criminal minds by night. there was a nice underlying Christian message throughout the show which is always nice to see, but watching this show before bed was kind of like hearing the mormon tabernacle choir sinker in on the ipod at an inopportune moment like i shared in a recent post... if you know what i mean.

thing is, the couple in the movie had a few fights which reminded me of the one or two fights mrs. blogmaster and i have had over the course of our marriage. right. and when i think that far back i am reminded of virginia and helen's house: the century and a half old house we lived in as newlyweds while attending school in provo, utah. lots of fond newlywed memories there. take for instance the time that aimee, being the good dutiful wife she is, made a special dinner for the two of us... perhaps an anniversary dinner.

for the record, i think mrs. blogmaster is an excellent cook. admittedly, cooking was not really something she'd had a ton of experience with coming into the marriage, but i didn't care... that's not what i married her for. over the years, however, she has become quite the culinary wonder, to her credit. she, on the other hand, feels fairly inadequate when it comes to this area of homemaking, but keep in mind, she's a perfectionist.

on this particular evening, aim decided to try her hand at little dish i like to call chicken cordon bleu. pretty ambitious for a novice. but when she brought it out and served it up, it looked and smelled great. in fact, it even tasted great, leaving me thoroughly impressed. after one bite went down smoothly i proceeded with little inhibition until i started to notice a minty fresh-like aftertaste. curious. no matter, maybe it was some new age recipe that incorporated some odd ingredient to give a traditional favorite a modern flare. i'm down with that. but the taste persisted and seemed to even get a little stronger. and then i noticed a greenish liquidy looking color that appeared to have bled off of the string holding the ham and cheese together and onto the chicken meant. it was at that point i either realized or had to ask, is that dental floss in the chicken?

sure enough, it was. ever the industrious woman, aim had made good use of our dental floss by incorporating it into the preparation of this celebratory meal (i'm not sure how much we were flossing back then). i couldn't have cared less. it still tasted great overall and the effort aims had gone to in making it to begin with was all that mattered to me. one thing for sure is that i had the best smelling breath i'd ever had after eating cordon bleu when i walked away from that meal.

back to san diego.

while driving in the car...

caleb: "dad, i've got a rash from colston's underwear."

me in my mind: what am i missing here? how the heck does that happen?

colston in his unassuming little three year old voice, with a slight lisp: "i've got my own underwear."

it was then that i remembered caleb had thrown on colston's underwear that morning because he had been too lazy to get his own out of his suitcase. these types of comments are commonplace during a road-trip with three boys.

then there was dinner at the mexican place on coronado island.

colston: "i've got to go potty."

i look at aim hoping she'll bail me out but knowing full well it is infinitely my turn given all the diaper changing and potty breaks she takes care of when i'm not around. i look back at coles.

me: "let's go."

we get in el bano and, of course, there aren't any kids sized urinals. great. not surprisingly, coles insists on using the urinal and he also insists on dropping trow to the ankles which means i have to pick up the kid and hold him on par with the urinal so he can keep the stream in the urinal while his pants are down. note to readers: this is an odd site to the common passerby, me standing there holding a kid with his drawers down to his ankles while he goes tinkles in an adult sized urinal.

as luck would have it, he gets stage fright and doesn't go. i wait patiently, trying not to make eye contact with anyone else in the bathroom, until time is up and we call it quits. we head back out to finish the meal. not more than three minutes later.

colson: "i've got to go poops."

i don't even bother to look at aim this time and grab the kid by the hand hurrying him along to the restroom again... those sizzling shrimp for the shrimp fajitas aren't going to sizzle forever.

we get into the bathroom and this time he has no choice but to use the toilet. we enter the stall and he refuses to let me put anything on the toilet seat as a buffer between the seat and his cheeks. fine. i place him on the seat where he braces himself from falling in by placing his hands on the seat itself. i try not to throw up. please tell me hand sanitizer is as potent as i'm hoping it is right now. a couple of grunts later he's done and insists on flushing the toilet even though it flushes itself. at this point i don't care what he touches in the bathroom and let him feel around for the flusher. he finally believes me when i say he can't flush it and we leave the stall and wash his hands like he's a surgeon prepping for surgery. now back to the fajitas if i can still muster up an appetite.

i sit down and start to eat. not more than four minutes go by.

colston: "i've got to go tinkles."

me: "that's it, babe. it's your turn."

let's move on to the pictures...

pedicure part 2

some of you may recall a previous post i authored in which i detailed my first experience with receiving a pedicure. only the hardcorest of zombies will note that said post took place almost a year ago to the day during an attorneys' retreat to newport beach. yes, for those who have done the math, we just had our annual attorneys' retreat in newport again and, yes, i was fortunate enough to get another pedicure... but that's not all.

first, i stand by my previous assessment that pedicures are a wonderful thing and the fact that i enjoy them says nothing about my unquestionable masculinity. second, even though i have not had a pedicure since i first had one a year ago, i have been long looking forward to the newport trip so i could receive my second. finally that day came and after a bruising battle of a football game on the beach and a rain soaked biking expedition to balboa island, my esteemed male colleagues and i made our way to the local albertson's shopping center pedicure chop shop for some self-pampering.

the five of us who were secure enough with our masculinity to embark on such an endeavor entered the nail salon and were immediately greeted by a score of vietnamese women who showed us to our chairs and commenced chiseling away at the roughshod on our feet. but that wasn't all, one of the ladies asked if i wanted a neck and shoulder massage. is the pope catholic? let's do it.

next thing i knew, though, was that she was asking me in broken english to lift up my shirt. huh? then the next thing i knew is that she was not only asking me to lift up my shirt, but to remove it. huh? then the next next thing i knew was that my boss and another colleague of mine had already peeled their shirts off and were getting the rub down. so, if all your friends jump off a bridge, should you jump off the bridge, too? absolutely... if it means getting a massage. off went the shirt and on went the massage oil.

let me be clear... we weren't in private rooms tearing off our tops and getting massaged, we were in the main area of the entryway to the salon whose whole front wall was a window to a fairly busy shopping center parking lot in broad daylight. oh, and i was the one closest to the window... surprisingly, i didn't care. i guess it was the super relaxing massage i was getting that calmed my nerves and tamed my apprehensions.

in addition, there was an older lady sitting next to me and then on the other side of her were my boss and co-worker. when the tops came off and she was surrounded by some not so strapping fleshy males, she was all of a sudden smiling in a laughing at us and not with us kind of way. but, as noted above, i couldn't have cared less although it was kind of awkward... and i'm sure that anyone who might have waked in at that moment would have been beholden to quite the site. you come in, thinking you'll enjoy a people magazine, an episode of harpo the she-devil, or private viatnamese language lessons and the first thing you see is three pale white guys whose better days in terms of being in physical shape are well behind them not only sitting in your starship enterprise chair but getting a combination pedicure/massage. like i said, quite a site in that it's not quite the site you were expecting. feel free to take your patronage elsewhere.

all i'm saying is, don't hate me because i've got finely trimmed, filed, waxed, and buffed toe nails. hate me because i not only have finely trimmed, filed, waxed, and buffed toe nails, but because i've also got finely trimmed, filed, waxed, and buffed finger nails... oh, and did i mention i got all that done simultaneously with a massage. to say the least, these ladies were master salespeople. every five minutes they were asking me if i wanted something more, all while being under the influence of nail polish fumes, massage oil and the massage itself... i didn't know what to say. actually, i just kept pointing to my boss and saying, "whatever he's getting." and, of course, he was getting whatever they were proposing... at least according to them he was.

and that was just the pedicure. the rest of newport was great, too... but that's a story for another day.

i'm dreaming of a white mlk day

earlier this month, the cooperfive spent mlk weekend up in park city for some fun and wintery sun in the snow... that's all i'm getting at with the title, e.g. spending mlk day in the snow... you know, instead of dreaming of a white Christmas, a white mlk day. it's funny because of the how it seems to contradict itself on its face with the white snow reference and the racial inconsistency between a day meant to celebrate civil rights when whites are the ones who have typically suppressed those rights, but the post title really has nothing to do with race (i feel like my mom what with having to explain my double entendres and all, but i don't want anyone to read anything more into it than that. i just couldn't resist the comedic irony of the double entendre. really. no racial insensitivity here on the blog... i'll leave that to the likes of nevada senators and vice presidents.

moving on...

so, anyway, we converged for some skiing, snowboarding, tubing, good food, games, and all-around fun in the hills of park city, utah. it was quite the trip. here's a pic of two of the boys in front of the house we stayed in (4 families... 20 something kids and believe it or not, it wasn't all that crazy):

mrs. blogmaster grew up skiing but hasn't gone since we got married many moons ago, so i was excited to see her strut her stuff on the slopes. aim loves being outdoors, doing something physical, going fast and throwing caution to the wind. in fact, this is how she broke her back and her elbow and wrecked a few of her dad's cars, but these are all stories for another day (actually, i think i've shared the elbow one before).

at any rate, i was still excited for aim to get her downhill slope on, but somewhat worried in the back of my mind because if the mvp goes down, the rest of the cooperfive fall apart. trust can be such a double-edged sword. unfortunately, i don't have any video or pics of mrs. blogmaster in action, but all the reports i am getting is that she picked up right where she left off... really fast, good (for someone who hasn't skied in 12 years) and crazy. that's my babe.

i was also really excited for jameson and caleb to snowboard and ski, respectively (jameson was way too cool to ski). jameson has started to wakeboard pretty well, so i was anxious to see how he would do on a snowboard... he actually did really well. caleb was a downhill wonder on the skis and seemed to love every second of it. i can't say i'm surprised, they obviously have just the perfect combination of their mother and little boy daredevilism in them to take on just about anything (now that's a dangerous combination). check out some of these vids of the boys' in action:


colston, on the other hand, is a little more reserved than his mother and brothers, so c-town and i sat out the day of downhill fun. we did, however, go up with aim and the boys to get everyone settled in and then returned a little early to get some pics and pick everyone up. i had a blast just watching aim and the boys. i have only been skiing once, back when i was a kid, but i kind of always wanted to do it more, so i was glad to be able to see my boys getting into it and having a good time. i hope to join them in the near future.

i was especially happy to see aim thoroughly enjoying herself. she was definitely in her element and i can only hope that this is the first of many, many cooperfive ski/snowboarding trips... unfortunately, we don't have any of the equipment necessary which leads me to this big fat thank you to all who lent us stuff to use. that thank you is really meant for t-cakes, t-bone, the rest of the hodges clan and kurt h. you are all wonderfully generous people and helped make our trip so much more comfortable and cheaper than it would have been otherwise. we couldn't have done it without you. as they say in castellano: muchismas gracias!

one quick noteworthy story from the trip. after mrs. blogmaster and the boys had been skiing and boarding all day and it was time to head back down on the gondolier, aim discovered she could actually ski the rest of the way down the mountain rather than take the ride. of course, aim hadn't had enough, and opted to ski rather than sit down (i wonder why our kids can never sit still). jameson was having such a good time, too, he wanted to tag along with mom. at first aim said no, but then had a change of heart and told him to come along.

big mistake. apparently, going down the mountain is a lot harder and longer than the stuff jameson had been doing. as a result, he had a pretty miserable trip down the mountain and when i met them some half an hour later at the bottom, he looked like he had seen a ghost and immediately uttered out, "i'm never snowboarding again." he was overreacting, of course, and has already decided to try it again at some point, but it was kind of a bummer to finish the day that way. plus aim wasn't able to unleash her inner speed demon and end on a good note. maybe jameson was meant to slow her up so she wouldn't injur herself in some irreparable way. needless to say, i think aim and james were the last ones off the hill. but no big deal, it was all worth it and still lots and lots of fun.

here are the pics:










we also did some tubing. i did participate in this activity and it was also a lot of fun. the tubing took place at one of those places where they actually have a lift kind of thing that pulls you up the mountain so you don't have to hike up the hill every time. much easier and much more enjoyable than trekking uphill at high altitudes in the cold. the boys really liked tubing, probably as much as skiing and boarding. i really liked it, too. you really move down those slopes. here are some pics i took while jameson, caleb and i were flying down the long/fast run along with some others from the tubing experience:









in closing, i also want to thank those who arranged the trip and invited us. we had an amazing time with everyone. it was the perfect weekend getaway for us. goodnight and thank you!!!
colston in front of the snowman he and i made.
jameson in the snow after having jumped out of the hot-tub for a momentary thrill. better that than drugs. he is his mother's son.
colston listening signing along to some music after a fun-filled day in the snow.