The Farmer and The Bell

Ava had a little run-in with the heavy door leading into the garage. Here is how she describes it, "That mean ol' wind just blew that door and it slammed on my thumb." The doctor assured us that it was a bad bruise. We commenced with a five-part healing plan.

Step 1: Ice pack

Step 2: Edamame and a Shirley Temple

Step 3: Sushi

Step 4: Nighttime snuggles with a borrowed George bear

Step 5: Chick Fil A

I'm pleased to report that the healing was successful.
The thumb is hardly swollen, and we made up Ava's missed gymnastics class on Friday.

On Wednesday the Farmer's Market in Norman reopened!

Roses as big as Ava's head

Farmers Market treasures
garlic, spinach, pizza dough, red and yellow cherry tomato plants, a jalapeno plant, a basil plant, a cilantro plant, farm fresh eggs, and tomatoes

J and Ava helped me plant the vegetables, fruit, and herbs

J, ever the meticulous farmer

Growing strong

Cupcake face
(Please excuse my poor camera. It is sick.)

Good to the last lick

While I was blogging this afternoon I noticed that the castle was very quiet.
I paused to go investigate and this is what I found:

We are loving the warm spring afternoons!

The end.

No really, that's the end of the post for most of you. If you feel that you are, or have ever been accused of being, sensitive, easily offended, judgmental, or critical please stop reading. For the rest of you, who can see a humorous story for what it is, please keep reading.

This week Ava and I installed a lovely suction cup bath toy holder in our shower. About 6 minutes after installation, however, we heard a tremendous crash. I ran into the bathroom with Ava close behind me. She exclaimed, "Whatthehell happened in here?!" I resisted the urge to die laughing and crouched down and asked her what she had said. She responded, "I said, 'Whatthehell happened in here?'" I explained to her that those are words that mommy and daddy sometimes say when we're surprised by something, but it isn't very nice. We talked about how we should watch what we say and not talk like that. She nodded with understanding ,and we went on about our day.

Later that evening Josh and Ava were playing a Pooh matching game in the living room. They were matching and rhyming words. Josh flipped over a card with a picture of a bell and Ava proclaimed, "Daddy, 'bell' and 'whatthehell', they rhyme!" Daddy did not hold in his laughter quite as well as mommy. Conversation about appropriate words was repeated. We're really just thankful she chose to come out with the colorful language at home with us instead of last weekend in the nursery when she was clawed to pieces by a visiting child...not that we really could have blamed her.

For those of you folks who, after reading this story, have decided that we're horrible parents and you actually should have stopped reading when I warned, you try driving on I-35 narrowed down to one lane of traffic with a 6-inch drop off to the shoulder and hundreds of 18-wheelers cutting you off every afternoon to pick up kiddos. I consider it a success that we've kept it to 'whatthehell'.