Since I've been outnumbered in our house lately, I've really taken notice to some basic differences between the male and female genders. I was already aware of them, they've just been somewhat accentuated living with a 14-year-old and 28-turned-14-year-old for the past month.
Food preparation
Who needs to wash and/or peel carrots? Brandon just cuts them up and throws them in the pot. Dirt and all. In fact, the first time I saw him do this, I squinted over at him and politely asked, "Don't you want to peel that first?" He thought that was the most absurd thing he had ever heard. "You're going to cook it anyway. What does it matter?"
Table etiquette
I would never claim to have sophisticated eating habits. But we're talking basic here. Like using utensils, rather than our hands or just going straight for the plate. We all know Brandon's history with licking his fingers, no matter what their condition. The night Mason requested spaghetti here, we caught him with his face in his plate, licking up the remaining sauce. Brandon laughed. I excused myself from the table.
Showing affection
For some reason, boys find it necessary to punch, body slam and headlock those they care for. Why is this? I spent last night screaming, "Not in my kitchen! Out! Both of you! Now!" while they ran around me in circles wrestling each other for 20 minutes before supper was served. Then they complained, while gasping to catch their breath, that it was too hot in the dining room. Let's not even talk about what happens when we get in the pool.
Making music
Let's just say they create quite a melody for me every morning and evening. No instruments required. This would be quite taboo for females. Boys? They just feed off each other and think it's the funniest thing they've ever heard...until the next chorus comes through. These functions are like yawning to them: you see it and you just have to mimic it.
Observation
Why is it boys can walk through four rooms of the house before they notice the trail of dirt/mud/grass/maneur behind them? Actually, they usually don't even notice. You have to point it out to them. And it seems like freshly mopped floors are the most inviting to work boots.
Needless to say, it has been quite an experience. Regardless, I'm sad it's coming to an end. Mason returns to Texas this weekend.
But maybe I'll get my 28-year-old back. And at least the constant wrestling will be over.
As for the rest of it, I resigned myself to coping with those things the day I said, "I do."
The not-so-little slugger
Brandon and Mason have been playing the old "Slug Bug" game every time we have been on the road in the past few weeks.
Because boys think it's fun to hit.
One day last week, Mason was riding with just me instead. All of a sudden, he rears back and slugs me in the arm.
"Slug bug!"
"Hey," I protest, "You're not supposed to hit girls!"
"But you're not a girl, Katie, you're a laaa-dy."
For a second, I felt quite distinguished he would give me such a title. Then I thought about it some more.
"Then you're especially not supposed to hit ladies, Mason."
"Well, you're not a lady then. You're just my sister."
Later that evening when we were all home, Brandon and Mason were wrestling around. Which is no big deal these days. In fact, it's been pretty much an every-three-hour occurrence since Mason got here.
I was two rooms away, and just overheard Mason's laughter, broken every few seconds by Brandon saying, "Wow, you're strong ... You're really strong ... Whoa boy, you're strong ... Okay, that's enough ..."
Not surprising, since we found out last night that going into the eighth grade, Mason already weighs as much as Brandon did at high school graduation.
Because boys think it's fun to hit.
One day last week, Mason was riding with just me instead. All of a sudden, he rears back and slugs me in the arm.
"Slug bug!"
"Hey," I protest, "You're not supposed to hit girls!"
"But you're not a girl, Katie, you're a laaa-dy."
For a second, I felt quite distinguished he would give me such a title. Then I thought about it some more.
"Then you're especially not supposed to hit ladies, Mason."
"Well, you're not a lady then. You're just my sister."
Later that evening when we were all home, Brandon and Mason were wrestling around. Which is no big deal these days. In fact, it's been pretty much an every-three-hour occurrence since Mason got here.
I was two rooms away, and just overheard Mason's laughter, broken every few seconds by Brandon saying, "Wow, you're strong ... You're really strong ... Whoa boy, you're strong ... Okay, that's enough ..."
Not surprising, since we found out last night that going into the eighth grade, Mason already weighs as much as Brandon did at high school graduation.
Teenager in the house
Brandon and I invited Mason to spend one month of his summer with us. So far, there are several things we have learned with a teenager in the house.
He has extended our vocabulary. We have been exposed to words like "y'allselves" and "responsibleness". He calls it his "Texas word choice," and tells us not to make fun of it. We're not sure what to call it, and we still make fun of it.
We found out fourteen-year-old boys eat twice as much as two adults combined. Or this one does anyway. By day three, we quit even asking him if he was hungry. He's always hungry. The night we had spaghetti, Brandon and Mason both filled a large dinner plate with pasta, which equaled two or three of my servings. Then Mason went back for seconds. When he came back to the table, we couldn't even speak. We just looked at each other with wide eyes and dropped jaws. So much for our fridge full of leftovers.
Apparently, only Rated R movies are cool. He refuses to watch Shrek 2, which Brandon and I both like. Instead, he has watched 40 Year Old Virgin, Wedding Crashers, Talladega Nights and The Sweetest Thing. Sorry Mom, but he said he'd already seen them anyway.
Mason has learned a few things about being with us in Arizona as well.
Don't drink the irrigation water. The day we were out shoveling, I caught Mason scooping water up from a row into his mouth. I sent Brandon a message about what he was doing. Brandon replied "Not a good idea. 10 percent sewage." My phone was in Mason's pocket when the message came through. I just looked up and saw him spitting and wiping his tongue with his shirt.
Water is a precious commodity. At our house, anyway. Since we have to fill our water jugs at Brandon's parents' house, we do not empty water containers from work at the end of the day. You just add a little bit of fresh water in the morning and continue drinking it.
Actually, most things are precious commodities. I make him save his ziploc sandwich bags to reuse the next day too.
Sleep any time you get the opportunity. We have pretty crazy schedules, from overnight irrigating to pre-dawn hay work. He has caught on and no longer thinks naps are for lazy people.
Boys can wear lotion. He started asking me for it the second day he was here. He came to me and said, "Katie, look at my arms. They're gray. And the skin is coming off. It's so dry." He has lotioned up every day since.
At least we're all having a well-rounded learning experience.
He has extended our vocabulary. We have been exposed to words like "y'allselves" and "responsibleness". He calls it his "Texas word choice," and tells us not to make fun of it. We're not sure what to call it, and we still make fun of it.
We found out fourteen-year-old boys eat twice as much as two adults combined. Or this one does anyway. By day three, we quit even asking him if he was hungry. He's always hungry. The night we had spaghetti, Brandon and Mason both filled a large dinner plate with pasta, which equaled two or three of my servings. Then Mason went back for seconds. When he came back to the table, we couldn't even speak. We just looked at each other with wide eyes and dropped jaws. So much for our fridge full of leftovers.
Apparently, only Rated R movies are cool. He refuses to watch Shrek 2, which Brandon and I both like. Instead, he has watched 40 Year Old Virgin, Wedding Crashers, Talladega Nights and The Sweetest Thing. Sorry Mom, but he said he'd already seen them anyway.
Mason has learned a few things about being with us in Arizona as well.
Don't drink the irrigation water. The day we were out shoveling, I caught Mason scooping water up from a row into his mouth. I sent Brandon a message about what he was doing. Brandon replied "Not a good idea. 10 percent sewage." My phone was in Mason's pocket when the message came through. I just looked up and saw him spitting and wiping his tongue with his shirt.
Water is a precious commodity. At our house, anyway. Since we have to fill our water jugs at Brandon's parents' house, we do not empty water containers from work at the end of the day. You just add a little bit of fresh water in the morning and continue drinking it.
Actually, most things are precious commodities. I make him save his ziploc sandwich bags to reuse the next day too.
Sleep any time you get the opportunity. We have pretty crazy schedules, from overnight irrigating to pre-dawn hay work. He has caught on and no longer thinks naps are for lazy people.
Boys can wear lotion. He started asking me for it the second day he was here. He came to me and said, "Katie, look at my arms. They're gray. And the skin is coming off. It's so dry." He has lotioned up every day since.
At least we're all having a well-rounded learning experience.
Thanks for the welcome back, Arizona
Well, it has been just more than one week since I returned from my Texas vacation, and what a welcome back Arizona decided to give me.
To begin, less than one hour after I landed back in the desert, I blew out a tire on our irrigation truck on my way to pick Brandon up from home. I was picking him up because he had no vehicle there, and needed to retrieve another tractor from his parents'. Thus, I had to walk to our house in the sweltering 110 degree temperatures, and he had to walk to the truck to fix the tire.
The very next day, I was taking the irrigation truck to the grocery store at 7am. I didn't make it more than one-eighth of a mile before the spare tire Brandon installed went flat on me. Like completely sitting on the ground flat.
On the third day of my return, Mason and I had been out in a field shoveling rows all afternoon. Brandon called to tell me to make our way to the ditch, we were finally calling it a day and going home. When I arrived at the irrigation ditch, my phone fumbled around in my hand, and fell in. I had to jump in after it, and found it just a couple minutes later at the bottom. Luckily, it only had to dry out for two days, and is now back in working order.
Tuesday, Mason and I were in charge of watering the sorghum rows. We had to do a lot of driving around the field, so I thought it was a perfect place for him to get some more driving practice. And he loves to drive, so he was more than happy to shuttle me around for the day. As we approached the end of the field, I told him to turn around. I was refilling our water jug and not paying much attention to where he was going. He had three field roads he could use to turn my little truck around. Instead, he chose the muddy corner of an adjoining field. And we got stuck. Mason was able to use the backhoe we had out there to get me out with fairly little effort, so that was nice.
Two days later, I arrive at one of our alfalfa fields to change water just before 4am. I find the water is not ready to be changed. As I make my way to the ditch at the upper end, I notice the water level is quite low. Sure enough, at the other end of the field, there is a giant whole where the ditch was completely washed away. My first response? I called Brandon and just started hollering, "I need you, I need you, I need you! Big mess! Ahhhh!" into the phone. Then, I had to move a huge metal check nearly as big as I am (or it feels like it, anyway) to a spot in the ditch in front of the hole, and leave it for Brandon and Mason to fix later.
On Friday, I found a swarm of bees in our backyard. Brandon was out of town for the day. I snapped a picture and sent it to him. He said they would move, and he would take care of them if they didn't. Well, they ended up moving alright. To right above our front porch swing. They're still there.
I had to watch water in the field across from our house the following day. That afternoon, I was checking it on the four wheeler when a bug flew in my ear. For the rest of the day, I could feel it fluttering and hear it buzzing in there. I would scream and shake my head to the side every time it happened, which was probably quite comical for anyone who might have been watching. I never felt it yesterday, but I also never noticed it coming out, so I'm pretty sure there's a dead bug in my ear.
And what did we wake up to yesterday morning? Birds chirping. Loudly. Less than ten feet from our bed. I guess another one nested in our master bathroom.
So thanks, Arizona. I'm glad to be back.
Recap
Day 1: blowout
Day 2: flat
Day 3: phone in ditch
Day 4: truck stuck
Day 6: ditch blown out
Day 7: bee invasion
Day 8: bug in ear
Day 9: birds return to the bathroom
To begin, less than one hour after I landed back in the desert, I blew out a tire on our irrigation truck on my way to pick Brandon up from home. I was picking him up because he had no vehicle there, and needed to retrieve another tractor from his parents'. Thus, I had to walk to our house in the sweltering 110 degree temperatures, and he had to walk to the truck to fix the tire.
The very next day, I was taking the irrigation truck to the grocery store at 7am. I didn't make it more than one-eighth of a mile before the spare tire Brandon installed went flat on me. Like completely sitting on the ground flat.
On the third day of my return, Mason and I had been out in a field shoveling rows all afternoon. Brandon called to tell me to make our way to the ditch, we were finally calling it a day and going home. When I arrived at the irrigation ditch, my phone fumbled around in my hand, and fell in. I had to jump in after it, and found it just a couple minutes later at the bottom. Luckily, it only had to dry out for two days, and is now back in working order.
Tuesday, Mason and I were in charge of watering the sorghum rows. We had to do a lot of driving around the field, so I thought it was a perfect place for him to get some more driving practice. And he loves to drive, so he was more than happy to shuttle me around for the day. As we approached the end of the field, I told him to turn around. I was refilling our water jug and not paying much attention to where he was going. He had three field roads he could use to turn my little truck around. Instead, he chose the muddy corner of an adjoining field. And we got stuck. Mason was able to use the backhoe we had out there to get me out with fairly little effort, so that was nice.
Two days later, I arrive at one of our alfalfa fields to change water just before 4am. I find the water is not ready to be changed. As I make my way to the ditch at the upper end, I notice the water level is quite low. Sure enough, at the other end of the field, there is a giant whole where the ditch was completely washed away. My first response? I called Brandon and just started hollering, "I need you, I need you, I need you! Big mess! Ahhhh!" into the phone. Then, I had to move a huge metal check nearly as big as I am (or it feels like it, anyway) to a spot in the ditch in front of the hole, and leave it for Brandon and Mason to fix later.
On Friday, I found a swarm of bees in our backyard. Brandon was out of town for the day. I snapped a picture and sent it to him. He said they would move, and he would take care of them if they didn't. Well, they ended up moving alright. To right above our front porch swing. They're still there.
I had to watch water in the field across from our house the following day. That afternoon, I was checking it on the four wheeler when a bug flew in my ear. For the rest of the day, I could feel it fluttering and hear it buzzing in there. I would scream and shake my head to the side every time it happened, which was probably quite comical for anyone who might have been watching. I never felt it yesterday, but I also never noticed it coming out, so I'm pretty sure there's a dead bug in my ear.
And what did we wake up to yesterday morning? Birds chirping. Loudly. Less than ten feet from our bed. I guess another one nested in our master bathroom.
So thanks, Arizona. I'm glad to be back.
Recap
Day 1: blowout
Day 2: flat
Day 3: phone in ditch
Day 4: truck stuck
Day 6: ditch blown out
Day 7: bee invasion
Day 8: bug in ear
Day 9: birds return to the bathroom
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