Sweepstakes

We've been watching a lot of HGTV as a family recently, now that we actually HAVE television.  ALL those channels, and there's really not much decent on, with the exception of home remodeling shows.  HGTV is doing their dream home sweepstakes at the moment, and this year's home is in Gig Harbor, Washington.  The kids are POSITIVE that this is OUR home, and that we're destined to win it.  They have their bedrooms picked out, they've done research on the area, they've looked into schools and colleges, and Quinn sends me 15 emails a day, reminding me to enter.

Mom: "Quinn, you know we're not REALLY going to win a $1.8 million house and move to Washington, right?"

Quinn: "You don't know that, Mom!  We have a really good chance!  Who watches HGTV anyway?  I don't know a single other person who watches that channel."

Dad: "Then you don't know many middle-aged women, Quinn."

Mom: "And there's ALOT of us!"

Quinn: "Do the math.  We get to enter TWICE A DAY!  No one else is going to make the effort to do that!" 

Reagan: "We NEED that house!"

Mom: "No, we WANT that house.  We don't need a house.  We have a house already."

Quinn: "This house is terrible.  I will never have my own bedroom.  We NEED a new house, on pavement, near a town where there are things to do.  I am sure that there are trampoline parks near Gig Harbor, Washington!"

Reagan: "We'll be close to Aunt Pat and Aunt Kathy, and closer to Grandma and Grandpa, and only 10 hours away from Aunt Kelli!!!  And we'll have neighbors, so I can have playdates EVERY DAY!"

Quinn: "Mom, we don't know how many entries there will be.  I can't imagine there will be that many, so we have an excellent chance."

And on and on and on it goes. 

Would I like to move into a beautiful house on the Puget Sound?  SURE.  I'm sure I could talk myself into it, if someone handed one to me.  But Rob's worried that the kids will be really disappointed when we DON'T win, because they're just SO POSITIVE that we will.  So, I decided to bring up some cold, hard facts.

We googled how many entries there were for LAST YEAR'S HGTV sweepstakes.

The answer?  100 million.

The odds of being struck by lightning are 1 in 700,000. 
The odds of having identical quadruplets are 1 in 11 million.


So... north of there.  The odds of us winning a house and moving to Washington: 1 in 100 million.

I won't update my resume just yet.

The Music Studio

Now to move it all to the basement, and not in my living room!!!

ADDENDUM:  Post-move to basement!!

My Favorite Gift

From one Mr. Colby Aho

Translation, for those who can't read his writing:

PSST:
Dear People who raise me.
Hello, Parents!  Time for your secret Christmas card (oh!  spooky!).  Well in this card I"m here to congratullate (sic) youu on raising and dealing with me! (only 6 more years to go!)  Now i'm not a perfect child but I'm close!
From that one kid that you raised.

Oh, my heart!!

Quinn's GRIT award

The Schmoozer

Quinn knows how to schmooze.  He's turned it into an art form.

The boys had been irritable and mean to their sister one too many times on the car ride home from gymnastics tonight, and mama got mad.  "We're supposed to be KIND to each other.  We're TEAM AHO. And you guys are constantly jumping down her throat."

Reagan ended up in tears, and it wasn't a happy ride home.  Mama was irritated enough at this episode of crabbiness, that when she got home, she removed a present with each of the boys' name on it from under the tree.

"You may earn these back when you show KINDNESS to another HUMAN BEING."

Quinn, about 30 minutes later, came up to me.

"Mom, I have this dollar in my pocket.  Now, I'm not saying that I'm going to buy my present back.  I'm just saying... if I put this dollar on the table, and it disappears, and suddenly my present RE-appears, well... we're all happy.  And, after all, isn't me giving you a dollar KIND of me?"

Stinkin' kid.  He knows how to make me laugh. 

I'm a dollar richer, and there seems to be a present or two back under the tree. 

Pronunciations, part 2

While in Petoskey for robotics, Colby was in the front seat, reading Google maps on my phone as navigator.

C: "Mom, up here there's a restaurant called McDonald Doctor."
M: "WHAT?"
C: "Look for the restaurant called McDonald Doctor!"
M: "Are you sure we're looking for a restaurant and not a street?"
C: "Man, there's a lot of doctors in this town.  No wonder they're so rich here."
M: "How do you know there's a lot of doctors by looking at a map?"
C: "Because every street name is followed by dr!"

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.  That would be "drive", Colby man.  McDonald DRIVE.

Later, as we were driving around, he was looking at the churches we were passing, and said the following:

C: "ESPICAPALIAN???  What the heck is THAT?  And Presbydarian?  They sure have weird churches here!"

Oh, Colby.  Have you never seen the words Episcopalian and Presbyterian spelled out??? 

I'm a little worried.

The Close Encounter With the Treadmill

Quinn, in the midst of his parkour-like daily existence, got himself stuck between the wall and our new treadmill.  While it was running.  Which led to a pretty nasty friction burn on his left elbow!  YIKES.  We are in the process of trying to heal it without the benefit of official medical care.  We shall see if this plan works or not.  We shall see.