Funny Guy Friday… No way! No how!

     Funny Guy Friday is written each week by my husband Mark. So, I married a funny guy...
     For Christmas, we gave Grace a trip to Houston to visit her cousin and best friend, Katherine. We were a bit nervous to leave her with my sister Michel, aka Nurse Kevorkian. As you may recall, my sister nearly killed my dad with oxygen deprivation. Anyway, we decided that Grace was in good enough health to entrust her to the good folks in Texas for a week.
      She left on December 26th and was scheduled to come back on January 3rd.  After being there for five days, she called and asked if she could stay a few extra weeks.  
     Weeks! Are you kidding me? No way! No how! 
     Gracie made her case:
     Point… Aunt Michel home schools too, and Grace and Katherine are both doing the same biology; and besides, Aunt Michel is a Biology teacher.
Point… We can send her her math and social studies work and she can extend her stay and still get in all the home schooling that she needs.
Point… Two of her cousins are flying into Maryland for the Right to Life March in late January so she can fly home with them and will not have to fly alone.
Point… The neighbors are Catholic so she can get to Mass on Sunday.
Point… Although Aunt Michel is a terrible nurse, she is a pretty good parent.
Point… Grace is having a great time.
     Counter point… I am here and she is there! I don't like this at all. 
     After much deliberation, we decided to let her stay.
     So far, this is what we have learned: our house is much quieter without Grace---not better, mind you, but quieter. Second, the family dynamics with the boys and without Grace are much different---not better, mind you, just different.
     The time with boys has allowed me to focus a bit more on 7-year-old Noah---he of the subtle hints. For example:
Noah: Dad, did you know that Coldstone Creamery moved?
Me: Yes, I am fully aware of that because I told you that yesterday.
Noah: I love ice cream
Me: So do I.
Noah: I love cotton candy with gummy bears.
Me: I know, but you are not getting any today.
Noah: I didn't ask, but since you brought it up, can we?
Me: No.
Noah: I didn't think so, but you would be the best dad in the world if you surprised me.
Me: It wouldn't be a surprise since you already asked.
Noah: Technically, I didn't ask, so it would still be a surprise.
     Noah also has a disconnect when it comes to being tickled. Matthew (age 11), Noah and I were all lying on our bed watching a football game when for some unknown reason, Matthew decided it was time to launch a sneak tickle attack on Noah. Noah broke down in tears and began to yell. I inquired as to what prompted Matthew to launch his offensive and Noah chimed in with a tearful, I KNOW, WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!
     At this point, I asked Noah if he were hurt. Well, er uh well, no. Then why the yelling and the tears? He tickled me. Did it tickle? Yes. Then why don't you laugh, you dodo. Because he tickled me. I see. 
     This was reminiscent of the time that Cheryl lined the kids up to talk to them about something very important. I don't recall what it was about, nor do I care. But I did have to get involved when Noah began to mimic Cheryl. I pointed at him and raised my eyebrows. Very intimidating in an authoritative way.
     About a half-hour later, I was upstairs and heard Noah in full-out cry mode. In the middle of his little tirade, I could have sworn that I heard him say, "Now Dad is really mad at me!" I was in my underwear watching Sports Center; all was good in the world as far as I was concerned.
     I put a towel around my waist, and went to the top of the steps to inquire... What did I do to make you say that I am mad at you? Did I spank you? No. Did I yell at you? No. Did I pull your hair? No. What did I do? You pointed at me!
     Yes, I did. I never realized what power I had in my little index finger. Ever since that day, I have been going around the house and pointing at Cheryl and then pointing at the dirty laundry. I must say, this has been met with mixed results. No laundry has been done, but Cheryl has come up with several clever places on my body where I could put my pointing finger. I must say, she has a lot to learn about the male anatomy because I don't think that I would enjoy having my finger at that location at all. Perhaps Cheryl should go to Texas and sit in on a few science classes herself.
     Gracie comes home on January 20th and our little family will get back to normal. I know what you are thinking if you read this every Friday---Normal? Are you kidding me? No way.. No how... is that family normal!