It has been years since my last post. My children are in high school. We are getting ready to start a new business in the downtown area. With the change of scenery, so are the stories tell. Let me give you an example:
Riding my bike from "the shop" to the Tuesday Food Truck event to grab some grub, I experienced and unfortunately common encounter with a homeless woman. She was screaming, "Why? WHY?" and something else that was completely inaudible from my safe bike lane across the four lane city street. Then she proceeded to slam the back of her head into the brick wall she was sitting against. Like checking the ripeness of watermelons, I tell ya.
I ate some delicious grilled fish tacos at The Hungry Pirate's food truck and proceeded back to the shop. The corner drummer was gone and two police officer vehicles were in the parking lot one block away. I concluded they had her in the back of one of those cars.
As I approached the shop, I found the poor woman. She was sitting in the middle of our street, right in front of our building, screaming frantically at passing vehicles. I directed the officers to her location.
She continued to ignore their directions of staying out of the street.
She was arrested.
9.11.2018
3.26.2009
12.14.2007
The You're So Weien blog is no longer in service here. However, it is up and running at my www.house of weien.com website.
11.15.2007
Kick It!
If you are unfamiliar with the Molly Shannon's Sally O'Malley skit from SNL, check out this one from when the last Sopranos was going to air.
Then, check out what happened when we mentioned it to the girls:
We were laughing so hard we couldn't tell them to stop. I could barely breathe.
If you are unfamiliar with the Molly Shannon's Sally O'Malley skit from SNL, check out this one from when the last Sopranos was going to air.
Then, check out what happened when we mentioned it to the girls:
We were laughing so hard we couldn't tell them to stop. I could barely breathe.
10.13.2007
Girl, You'll Be A Woman Soon
We have been riding our bicycles as a family often this past summer. Emma has her own sweet bike, and Abbie and I have two new cruisers. A chariot-like two seat cart is Ellie's vehicle and great love during our expiditions. She sits in the back and sings, eats, reads, and plays with toys. It is a great workout for the cart driver, and Ellie keeps interesting company as well.
Upon completing one such ride, my wife pulled the little one up our extremely steep driveway, into the backyard. Abbie was parking the bike and huffing from the last push of energy. Ellie was chatting with her pedaling chauffeur.
"Why are you breathing like that?" Ellie asked.
"I'm tired from the ride" answered Abbie.
Ellie agreed and proclaimed that she wasn't tired at all. Probably attempting to avoid any excuse for a potential nap.
"Well, maybe you can pull me in the cart next time?" her mother joked. Ellie paused,giggled, and answered, "Naw, not with your big helmet, and not with your big hair..." she began.
"Don't you dare say big butt!" Abbie thought to herself.
"... and your big boobies." the three-year old finished.
Ellie is full of strangely angled questions. Coupled with her recent fascination on female anatomy, she hit Grammy with this doosey recently.
"Grammy, do you have big boobies?"
What are we to do?
Last week the girls were home from school (Thanks Columbus!) and were watching a favorite film. Suddenly Ellie runs to me with her blanket and asks if I can help her to get "boobies."
Not knowing how to assist with such a request, I tempered it down and tried to tie the blanket around her like a gown.
"NO!" she screamed. "I want boobies like Emma!"
I looked up at her sister who was engrossed in the movie. She had stuffed her blanket into her shirt creating prosthetic breasts. I stuffed the blanket into Ellie's shirt and satisfied her feminine need. Here is the outcome.
We have been riding our bicycles as a family often this past summer. Emma has her own sweet bike, and Abbie and I have two new cruisers. A chariot-like two seat cart is Ellie's vehicle and great love during our expiditions. She sits in the back and sings, eats, reads, and plays with toys. It is a great workout for the cart driver, and Ellie keeps interesting company as well.
Upon completing one such ride, my wife pulled the little one up our extremely steep driveway, into the backyard. Abbie was parking the bike and huffing from the last push of energy. Ellie was chatting with her pedaling chauffeur.
"Why are you breathing like that?" Ellie asked.
"I'm tired from the ride" answered Abbie.
Ellie agreed and proclaimed that she wasn't tired at all. Probably attempting to avoid any excuse for a potential nap.
"Well, maybe you can pull me in the cart next time?" her mother joked. Ellie paused,giggled, and answered, "Naw, not with your big helmet, and not with your big hair..." she began.
"Don't you dare say big butt!" Abbie thought to herself.
"... and your big boobies." the three-year old finished.
Ellie is full of strangely angled questions. Coupled with her recent fascination on female anatomy, she hit Grammy with this doosey recently.
"Grammy, do you have big boobies?"
What are we to do?
Last week the girls were home from school (Thanks Columbus!) and were watching a favorite film. Suddenly Ellie runs to me with her blanket and asks if I can help her to get "boobies."
Not knowing how to assist with such a request, I tempered it down and tried to tie the blanket around her like a gown.
"NO!" she screamed. "I want boobies like Emma!"
I looked up at her sister who was engrossed in the movie. She had stuffed her blanket into her shirt creating prosthetic breasts. I stuffed the blanket into Ellie's shirt and satisfied her feminine need. Here is the outcome.
10.07.2007
Sitting, Waiting, Wishing
Parents should understand my dilemma. I hope.
It was a wonderful fall day. We had spent the first half of it visiting a local pumpkin patch and fall festival. We played games, took a tractor hay ride, and participated in a fun scavenger hike. The girls were joyous and so were we. The second half of the day was filled with a series of errands to multiple stores across the town. By the end of the day, we were all getting hungry, but we didn't care to come home to cook a meal. Before we left the far side of town to come home, we took a vote, and all agreed that we would go to the Buffalo Wild Wings restaurant. The estimated time of travel to finally get to Wild Wings was probably 20 minutes.
2 Minutes into Trip
Ellie yells, "I want to eat!!"
"We are going to Buffalo Wild Wings right now, kiddo." Abbie informed the back seat driver.
4 Minutes into Trip
"I want Buffado Wide Wins!" hollers Ellie emphatically.
"Ellie, we just told you that we are going there right now. We just have to get across town." I reminded.
7 Minutes into Trip
"Mommy, I'm hungry." the nearly four-year old informed her mother.
"Ellie, we are going to eat right now. We will be there in just a few minutes. Please just be quiet." Abbie pleaded.
10 Minutes into Trip
"I'M HUNGRY!!" she screamed.
"Hey! We just told you, again, we are going to Buffalo Wild Wings. We will eat as soon as we get there. Be quiet and just be patient, would you?" Both Abbie and I were starting to get angry as the traffic became congested.
12 Minutes into Trip
The traffic was thick, but we were almost through the worst before arriving at the area that would thin out.
"I want to go to Bufadoes..." she began.
I quickly interrupted, as I slammed on the brakes avoiding a fender bender, "You need to get the shit out of your ears and be quiet."
I signaled and turned into the left lane that had a few less vehicles in it before I realized Ellie was returning words from my sudden outburst.
"You need to get the shit out of your mouth, Daddy!" she declared.
Parents should understand my dilemma. I hope.
It was a wonderful fall day. We had spent the first half of it visiting a local pumpkin patch and fall festival. We played games, took a tractor hay ride, and participated in a fun scavenger hike. The girls were joyous and so were we. The second half of the day was filled with a series of errands to multiple stores across the town. By the end of the day, we were all getting hungry, but we didn't care to come home to cook a meal. Before we left the far side of town to come home, we took a vote, and all agreed that we would go to the Buffalo Wild Wings restaurant. The estimated time of travel to finally get to Wild Wings was probably 20 minutes.
2 Minutes into Trip
Ellie yells, "I want to eat!!"
"We are going to Buffalo Wild Wings right now, kiddo." Abbie informed the back seat driver.
4 Minutes into Trip
"I want Buffado Wide Wins!" hollers Ellie emphatically.
"Ellie, we just told you that we are going there right now. We just have to get across town." I reminded.
7 Minutes into Trip
"Mommy, I'm hungry." the nearly four-year old informed her mother.
"Ellie, we are going to eat right now. We will be there in just a few minutes. Please just be quiet." Abbie pleaded.
10 Minutes into Trip
"I'M HUNGRY!!" she screamed.
"Hey! We just told you, again, we are going to Buffalo Wild Wings. We will eat as soon as we get there. Be quiet and just be patient, would you?" Both Abbie and I were starting to get angry as the traffic became congested.
12 Minutes into Trip
The traffic was thick, but we were almost through the worst before arriving at the area that would thin out.
"I want to go to Bufadoes..." she began.
I quickly interrupted, as I slammed on the brakes avoiding a fender bender, "You need to get the shit out of your ears and be quiet."
I signaled and turned into the left lane that had a few less vehicles in it before I realized Ellie was returning words from my sudden outburst.
"You need to get the shit out of your mouth, Daddy!" she declared.
7.23.2007
Cuz You Shine On Me Wherever You Are
"Star light, star bright, the first star I see tonight," Emma began.
Since we have been spending a lot more time outside in the evenings; watching sunsets, having campfires, and enjoying the warm weather, the girls have quickly learned how to wish upon the first star in the sky.
She continued, "I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight."
With her eyes tightly closed, she held her breath and paused. When she was done wishing, she opened her wonderful blue eyes and turned to me with an enormous smile and said "Amen."
I didn't teach it to her that way, but I figure it can't hurt.
"Star light, star bright, the first star I see tonight," Emma began.
Since we have been spending a lot more time outside in the evenings; watching sunsets, having campfires, and enjoying the warm weather, the girls have quickly learned how to wish upon the first star in the sky.
She continued, "I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight."
With her eyes tightly closed, she held her breath and paused. When she was done wishing, she opened her wonderful blue eyes and turned to me with an enormous smile and said "Amen."
I didn't teach it to her that way, but I figure it can't hurt.
6.24.2007
New Car, Caviar, Four Star Daydream
My six-year old, Emma, has been earning an allowance for many months now, and it wasn't until recently when we were on a vacation weekend away from town did she realize that all of her earnings could go towards purchasing stuff!
A few days after our trip she was assisting her mother with her shopping at Pier 1 Imports. It was in the store where she had a near epiphany.
Her eye was drawn to a colorful Chinese Yo-yo that was in a clearance bin. "How much is this, momma?" she inquired.
Looking at the tag, her mother answered, "One dollar."
The child stood motionless, the wheels grinding uncontrollably in her growing mind.
"What's the name of this store?" she finally broke the silence.
"Pier 1." Abbie answered.
Spinning around in a circle, very cautiously, she surveyed the mountains of furniture, knick-knacks, and candles surrounding her. Her mouth dropped open in amazement.
"Does that mean that EVERYTHING here is just ONE DOLLAR?" she questioned with the spectacular bewilderment likened to Charlie in the Willy Wonka's great chocolate factory.
After the glowing rush of adrenaline finally wore off from the actual truth, she still bought that Chinese Yo-yo, as well as one for her little sister.
My six-year old, Emma, has been earning an allowance for many months now, and it wasn't until recently when we were on a vacation weekend away from town did she realize that all of her earnings could go towards purchasing stuff!
A few days after our trip she was assisting her mother with her shopping at Pier 1 Imports. It was in the store where she had a near epiphany.
Her eye was drawn to a colorful Chinese Yo-yo that was in a clearance bin. "How much is this, momma?" she inquired.
Looking at the tag, her mother answered, "One dollar."
The child stood motionless, the wheels grinding uncontrollably in her growing mind.
"What's the name of this store?" she finally broke the silence.
"Pier 1." Abbie answered.
Spinning around in a circle, very cautiously, she surveyed the mountains of furniture, knick-knacks, and candles surrounding her. Her mouth dropped open in amazement.
"Does that mean that EVERYTHING here is just ONE DOLLAR?" she questioned with the spectacular bewilderment likened to Charlie in the Willy Wonka's great chocolate factory.
After the glowing rush of adrenaline finally wore off from the actual truth, she still bought that Chinese Yo-yo, as well as one for her little sister.
6.21.2007
Girl, You Really Got Me Now
Food makes kids insane. This morning was no exception, however, I was forced to realize that my oldest has been taking comedy notes for the past six years. Usually she is the observer of such humorous events, or she creates hilarious situations unintentionally. This morning she became the comedian.
Emma insisted on telling me stories of various subjects with half of her breakfast clinging to the side of her face. I repeatedly asked her to wipe her face with the untouched paper napkin sitting next to her plate. Finally, I ignorantly stated, “Will you PLEASE wipe your face? You look retarded!”
Abbie shook her head and rolled her eyes at me.
Emma immediately responded, “It’s because I look like you!”
Ba-dum-bum.
Abbie echoed haunting teases of my childhood, “Oooooooh, you got him good, Emma! Good job!”
After I caught my breath, I also praised her for her wittiness.
Food makes kids insane. This morning was no exception, however, I was forced to realize that my oldest has been taking comedy notes for the past six years. Usually she is the observer of such humorous events, or she creates hilarious situations unintentionally. This morning she became the comedian.
Emma insisted on telling me stories of various subjects with half of her breakfast clinging to the side of her face. I repeatedly asked her to wipe her face with the untouched paper napkin sitting next to her plate. Finally, I ignorantly stated, “Will you PLEASE wipe your face? You look retarded!”
Abbie shook her head and rolled her eyes at me.
Emma immediately responded, “It’s because I look like you!”
Ba-dum-bum.
Abbie echoed haunting teases of my childhood, “Oooooooh, you got him good, Emma! Good job!”
After I caught my breath, I also praised her for her wittiness.
6.20.2007
People Try to Put Us Down
We were at the flower nursery preparing to gather a cartload or two of various species of plants for our backyard landscape project. The girls were ecstatic and full of vigor. Under such energized situations, as most parents are aware, children will often perform unimaginable dangerous stunts or extremely outrageous acts of rudeness. My wife and I were privy to the laws of childhood enthusiasm and were automatically prepared.
Within minutes of reaching the front-gated area, Emma, our oldest began the fervor. “I want to push the cart!” She suddenly appeared with an empty cart for us.
We continued to peruse the various daisies, delphiniums, and other blooming beauties, until a crotchety voice appeared like a clap of thunder. “You took my cart!” the 80 year old, hunchbacked, shuffling woman accused my daughter. The grey-hair promptly grabbed the open side of the cart as if to start a tug-a-war with my six-year old.
My wife was quick, “Oh, I’m sorry, did we take your cart?” she apologetically asked. Emma was horrified by the wrinkled accuser and kept silent.
The elder paused, looking back and forth from Emma to Abbie with a stern, angered face. After a moment exchanged glances of confusion, she then blurted, “Mine is full! This is empty!” Instantaneously, her cane-toting compadre informed her that their cart was next to the register. The granny then turned around and hobbled back to her brimming cart of botany, not saying a single “Sorry” or even an “Oops!”
I shook my head, grumbled a derogatory remark, and continued my shopping. “Where is that girl’s guardian?” I queried myself.
We were at the flower nursery preparing to gather a cartload or two of various species of plants for our backyard landscape project. The girls were ecstatic and full of vigor. Under such energized situations, as most parents are aware, children will often perform unimaginable dangerous stunts or extremely outrageous acts of rudeness. My wife and I were privy to the laws of childhood enthusiasm and were automatically prepared.
Within minutes of reaching the front-gated area, Emma, our oldest began the fervor. “I want to push the cart!” She suddenly appeared with an empty cart for us.
We continued to peruse the various daisies, delphiniums, and other blooming beauties, until a crotchety voice appeared like a clap of thunder. “You took my cart!” the 80 year old, hunchbacked, shuffling woman accused my daughter. The grey-hair promptly grabbed the open side of the cart as if to start a tug-a-war with my six-year old.
My wife was quick, “Oh, I’m sorry, did we take your cart?” she apologetically asked. Emma was horrified by the wrinkled accuser and kept silent.
The elder paused, looking back and forth from Emma to Abbie with a stern, angered face. After a moment exchanged glances of confusion, she then blurted, “Mine is full! This is empty!” Instantaneously, her cane-toting compadre informed her that their cart was next to the register. The granny then turned around and hobbled back to her brimming cart of botany, not saying a single “Sorry” or even an “Oops!”
I shook my head, grumbled a derogatory remark, and continued my shopping. “Where is that girl’s guardian?” I queried myself.
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