The Price Family Home Companion

Return to Sender

This morning, I sent Chantell an e-mail to let her know I'd just wired money to her bank account and that the money was earmarked for holiday shopping. This was both a preemptive strike and a gesture of goodwill since she will be going to the Nutcracker Market this Friday (in what has become, I fear, an annual rite of passage - along with Canton, San Marcos, and Black Friday).

Later, she replied with a cheery Thank You. It went without saying (I'd hoped), but I added "You know, this means no credit card?"

Oddly, I never heard from her again. Instead I got one of those Undeliverable messages:

*****UNDELIVERABLE*****
I'm sorry but the email sent to Chantell was NOT received. We will try to deliver this email again on Friday sometime after 9:00am. You do not need to resend this message or discuss it when you get home. Thank you and good day.

Oh Manna, I'm in trouble!

Chantell and I constantly struggle to find time for private devotions. Although we've improved in this area a great deal, we never seem to have enough energy by the end of the day (or some such excuse).

Harnessing the power of peer pressure, we've committed to step up our encouragement of each other in this area. This works pretty well so long as the encouragement doesn't descend into the realm of (or anything that can be construed as) judgment:

Me: Are you going to read the Bible tonight?

Her: I'm really tired.

Me: Hmm, okaaAY?

Her: Moses is wandering the wilderness for 40 years. He'll still be there tomorrow.

Me: So will you.

Some things probably shouldn't be said, not matter how witty.

A (Rare) Blonde Moment

I had a blonde moment at church Sunday... a Stacyism, if you will.

Our Sunday school class was discussing The Parable of the Lost Son (also known as the Parable of the Prodigal Son in Luke 15:11) and how Jesus casually interjects physiological knowledge regarding birth order behavior of the two sons (i.e. the barbed dialog of "this son of yours" v30 and "this brother of yours" v32). Discussions ensued about first born traits (perfectionists, pleasers) vs. second born (creative, laid-back), etc.

It was at this point where Chantell leaned over to me and said, "Can you imagine Jesus' siblings always being told Why can't you be more like your brother Jesus?"

My response? "Jesus wasn't the first born was he?"

If it Wasn't Screwed On

The Headless Horseken - The name Chantell gave Salem's Ken (Barbie) doll who's head keeps coming off.

So, Take Splat!

In the small office building in which I work, tenants occasionally leave notes to the cleaning staff to request various special services (replacement of lights, removal of large items, etc). Yesterday evening, while leaving, I spotted one such note on a door across the hall:

To whom it may concern
A bird flew into our window today. Please have it cleaned.

Upon my arrival this morning, an additional sign was posted on the door:

From whom it concerns
Pray for rain and a hard wind.

No Expiration Date

Last night, Chantell rather emphatically insisted that the term expired not be used (whether in eulogy, obituary, or tombstone inscription) to describe her ultimate demise.

I'm not a food. I don't just 'go bad' or 'expire'...

Come to think of it though, she probably wouldn't be terribly fond of ultimate demise either...

That's Going to Leave a Mark

While I was cleaning the kitchen last night, Chantell said "Who are you, and what have your done with my handsome husband?"

It still stung a little, but it was just too funny to hold it against her.

Regional Dressing

This Sunday we went to Souper Salad. Although she didn't say it out loud, Chantell wondered what in the world local ranch was. She wasn't aware of regional variations of the popular salad dressing... certainly not one named lo cal.

Olympic Insight

Chantell, Salem, and I have been watching the Olympics together each evening. Salem isn't too interested in the swimming competitions, but she gets a huge kick out of the gymnastics.

She repeatedly says I one do dat and he's feenish, mah turn while doing summersaults or throwing her arms up triumphantly (yes, it would be nice to have some pictures here, but our digi-cam is boken).

The best one yet, though, was during the men's team competitions, Salem said Dee doe es open. Confused, Chantell tried to figure out exactly what door it was that Salem said was open. I nearly died laughing as that's a statement Brody and I were saying just days earlier after one of the girls bobbled the dismount.

Smells Like Stink

After returning from her morning bike ride, Chantell was telling Salem how she needed to go take a shower. Salem responded "Mommy teak show-wee. Wish da sticky off." (Mommy take a shower and wash the stinky off).