The four words posted above have been running through my brain all day long on repeat like the mixed tape your boyfriend made you in 7th grade (don't worry mom, all we did was hold hands on the way to class and awkwardly hug each other after school before our busses came to pick us up, and then after two weeks I broke up with him via a folded note that my friend gave to him for me explaining that we were just "too different.") wherein you played it over and over again until it was past repair and even sticking your pinky finger inside the little windy poky thing to wind it back up into the tape stopped working.
And now for some theories.
Theory #1: It is my belief that you can win any child over with candy, no matter how old or young. It's how I have and will continue to try and become the favorite aunt of all my nieces and nephews, and let me tell you, so far I think I'm in the running, and maybe even winning! (Sorry sibs. Can't win 'em all) And also, I teach a class of 5 and 6-year-olds on Sundays and I NEVER forget to bring treats for them. Mostly because I remember the incentive it served for me to go to class when I was little (and who am I kidding, to this day, I'll whip out laffy taffy's during sacrament. Which is right about when Taylor leans over all dad like and whisper yells, "this isn't a movie theater!" wherein I roll my eyes and eat it anyway) but also because it serves as some seriously good bribery, and when you make them cry (which I did last week when I told a kid to "zip it") you can tell them you're terribly sorry and that you'll give him candy if he's good for the rest of class, because when the boy has to take off his glasses to wipe his tears away, there's not much a person won't do to console him. And this tactic, it works! When I walked into church this last Sunday I was greeted by one of my kids with a fake, tattered flower (talk about melting a fake teacher's heart) which I will probably keep forever, and then later one of my little girl's whispered into my ear asking if I had brought treats. To which I whispered that of course I had and then she whispered back to me, "You just might be the best teacher I've ever had." And then I died a little inside. But in the good way, you know. Thus, candy. I swear by it, now, forever, and 103 cavities later. (I think I've had at least 27 in my life. Yikes. That's really some pretty embarrassing information. Sorry Mom and Dad. I always had the best of intentions.)
Theory #2: Husbands. They are good in opposite versions of you. I always thought I wanted to marry someone like muah, because apparently I think pretty highly of myself or something, but then I dated guys like me and realized that I wanted to punch them in the face, or at least the shins, most of the time. It wasn't until I met this Taylor husband that I realized I needed someone who would make me talk when I didn't want to, who would be rational when I was on the irr side of that thinking, and who has proven to be a "professional optimist" (in a conversation with his mom the other day, she used that term regarding him and in my head I was all, "Yes! That's it!") on all counts. And I'm not kidding you. In the 6 and 1/2 months that we've been married I have never heard him say, not even once, that he's had a bad day. I on the other hand, venture somewhere near the....more than zero bad days...we'll just say. And also, he has really terrible dad jokes, (no offense to dad's...but sort of offense. I mean, they're usually pretty bad. No?) which really just makes my material that much better. And together we really make our own pretty good team.
Theory #3: I seriously believe in having shaved ice in every town, no matter how big or small. (we don't and I'm mad about it basically every single day.) I mean, why must shaved ice facilities be such a respecter of towns?? Ice cream is just about the barfiest and about as refreshing as cauliflower, and is small particles of ice topped with tiger's blood and a dash of cream on top too much to ask for? I should think not.
Theory #4: Lastly, I believe in never leaving the house without chapstick. I can't and I just won't.
And that's all the inspiring material I have for now.
Until next time!
And now for some theories.
Theory #1: It is my belief that you can win any child over with candy, no matter how old or young. It's how I have and will continue to try and become the favorite aunt of all my nieces and nephews, and let me tell you, so far I think I'm in the running, and maybe even winning! (Sorry sibs. Can't win 'em all) And also, I teach a class of 5 and 6-year-olds on Sundays and I NEVER forget to bring treats for them. Mostly because I remember the incentive it served for me to go to class when I was little (and who am I kidding, to this day, I'll whip out laffy taffy's during sacrament. Which is right about when Taylor leans over all dad like and whisper yells, "this isn't a movie theater!" wherein I roll my eyes and eat it anyway) but also because it serves as some seriously good bribery, and when you make them cry (which I did last week when I told a kid to "zip it") you can tell them you're terribly sorry and that you'll give him candy if he's good for the rest of class, because when the boy has to take off his glasses to wipe his tears away, there's not much a person won't do to console him. And this tactic, it works! When I walked into church this last Sunday I was greeted by one of my kids with a fake, tattered flower (talk about melting a fake teacher's heart) which I will probably keep forever, and then later one of my little girl's whispered into my ear asking if I had brought treats. To which I whispered that of course I had and then she whispered back to me, "You just might be the best teacher I've ever had." And then I died a little inside. But in the good way, you know. Thus, candy. I swear by it, now, forever, and 103 cavities later. (I think I've had at least 27 in my life. Yikes. That's really some pretty embarrassing information. Sorry Mom and Dad. I always had the best of intentions.)
Theory #2: Husbands. They are good in opposite versions of you. I always thought I wanted to marry someone like muah, because apparently I think pretty highly of myself or something, but then I dated guys like me and realized that I wanted to punch them in the face, or at least the shins, most of the time. It wasn't until I met this Taylor husband that I realized I needed someone who would make me talk when I didn't want to, who would be rational when I was on the irr side of that thinking, and who has proven to be a "professional optimist" (in a conversation with his mom the other day, she used that term regarding him and in my head I was all, "Yes! That's it!") on all counts. And I'm not kidding you. In the 6 and 1/2 months that we've been married I have never heard him say, not even once, that he's had a bad day. I on the other hand, venture somewhere near the....more than zero bad days...we'll just say. And also, he has really terrible dad jokes, (no offense to dad's...but sort of offense. I mean, they're usually pretty bad. No?) which really just makes my material that much better. And together we really make our own pretty good team.
Theory #3: I seriously believe in having shaved ice in every town, no matter how big or small. (we don't and I'm mad about it basically every single day.) I mean, why must shaved ice facilities be such a respecter of towns?? Ice cream is just about the barfiest and about as refreshing as cauliflower, and is small particles of ice topped with tiger's blood and a dash of cream on top too much to ask for? I should think not.
Theory #4: Lastly, I believe in never leaving the house without chapstick. I can't and I just won't.
And that's all the inspiring material I have for now.
Until next time!
Honestly, I could read you ALL DAY LONG.
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