The M&M Story

Andy and Amanda Originally uploaded by Maynor . Yes, I know it's been over a week--a busy one at that. Thanksgiving, sick kiddos, visiting aunts and uncles and cousins. We might update you on all that, we might just move on. And most of all, about 20% of our readership just got engaged to each other! Congrats! (note difference between Andrew's gentle, closed mouth smile in the photo above Amanda's shoulder and all the teeth he's showing now. Ah, young love.)

I dressed M in his jeans and rugby shirt this morning before church and he looked in the mirror: "My Snazzy!"

Interior: M’s bedroom, 2:00 a.m. It’s dark, M is awake in bed crying. Daddy: Hey, big guy, what’s wrong? M: Spider hurt me in a story. Daddy: Oh, no, was it a dream? M: Yes, bad dream. Daddy: What happened in the story? M: M was a moon up in the sky. Daddy: Wow—M was a moon up in the sky? That sounds like a good dream. M : No, bad dream. Spider’s legs do this: (M wiggles his fingers in the air). Daddy: Then what happened? M: Spider hurt me in the story. Daddy: Oh, no, that must have been scary. What happened then? M: My tackle spider. Daddy: Good for you! Did the spider go away? M: Yes, spider doh away.

Daddy: Today's your Thanksgiving feast at school, buddy! M: Yay! Daddy: What does one eat at a Thanksgiving feast? M: Crackers and Pizza! Daddy: Anything else? M: hmmm...let's see...hmmm...let's see...Apple Pies!

Check-up for the B-man: He's in excellent health, and took his vaccination like a man. He's in the ninetieth percentile for height, and right smack in the middle of the range for weight. So Dr. B. says he can start eating ice cream to bulk up. He did on Saturday night. LOVED IT, of course. On a related note, he seems to be allergic to avacados. Breaks out like a teenager. What will he do for Cinco de Mayo?? Also, he took his first bite of cottage cheese last night and looked terrified. After gagging and spitting, he held his tongue out and kept it out. Every time he started to pull it back in, he'd taste the cottage cheese and start crying. Poor kid. I have the same reaction to cottage cheese, but it looks silly for a 34-year-old to cry with his tongue hanging out. We went out to eat on Saturday at Sweet Tomatoes, a "salad buffet" place. We always go at about 5:15, and the place is full of little new people and little old people. There's nobody in t

From The Sun Herald (South Mississippi): ( http://www.sunherald.com/mld/sunherald/news/local/10141400.htm ) [Tuesday, 11/9:] Eugene Gregory Wood Eugene Gregory Wood died Saturday November 6th after a brief illness. Mr. Wood, born in Howison, Mississippi on July 4, 1911, was the son of George Price Wood and Mary Alethea Gregory Wood. He was a graduate of Moss Point High School and Perkinston Junior College. For 40 years he owned Wood's Department Store in Moss Point while serving for a period as Mayor and later, alderman for the City of Moss Point. He was Elder Emeritus in the Moss Point Presbyterian Church, a Director at Merchants and Marine Bank, a Mason, and was named Jackson County's Outstanding Citizen of the Year several years ago. He was married on July 1, 1933 to Mary Alice Avera and for over 71 years they have been a very devoted couple with five children, sixteen grandchildren and 21 great grandchildren. "With Dad, there was no compromising on morals

Language updates: M and I drove up to the house on Saturday after walking up to pick up the Jetta at the shop. Across-the-street neighbor Sarah was finishing up a run with Herzog, her young Lab, and we walked down the driveway to greet them. M loves dogs, but Herzog was being a bit rambunctious, and M scooted behind my leg. “Daddy, I’m scaried.” But as Herzog settled down, M’s scaried-ness subsided and we had a nice visit. Susan and M have been learning about calendars together (they have a big laminated calendar downstairs to which they are attaching a daily leaf, and M knows that it’s November). Nana came over yesterday and Susan asked him when his birthday was. “March twentieth!” he said, and then, to illustrate, he got up and “Marched” around the front porch (in his button down shirt and Bob-the-Builder underwear, I should point out). B, in the meantime, is using his communication skills more and more. He chats all the time, and this last week realized that screaming