where brevity really is his strong point

Little Scotty is famous in this family for his homemade cards.  Birthdays and other holidays are more exciting because you can't wait to see what your card from Little Scotty will say.  He has an uncanny ability to take a sheet of computer paper and some markers and create gold.  These are cards that you keep forever, that you show off to your friends and coworkers.  His cards can capture in an image and a few sentences everything that a year has meant or everything that you hope to see in yourself...

...which is why I've chosen to share the following--the text of the card that Little Scotty gave to Brother Robby for Christmas this year--with all of you.

This is officially the most attractive gift you will ever receive.  You're welcome.

Overheard Whilst Purchasing His New Phone

Little Scotty: I'm trying to copy the numbers on the SIM card to the phone.

Me: You know, you could just read the manual.

Little Scotty: Sis, manuals are for the women.

lesson learned

For the past few days, we've been living with the frustrations of having no electricity, no hot water, and no heat. These things tend to make me cranky. [I know, right? Me? Cranky?] The ice storms has reduced me to a whiny toddler who fixates on things like the fact I haven't showered for three days, and generally drives everyone around me absolutely bananas.

Luckily, Brother Robby's house has still been warm, full of light, and able to power laptops. I am seriously only in possession of my sanity today because he let us camp out on his couch. Because of his generosity, we only endure the cold when we return to our sad, dark house at night and go directly to bed, laying there for hours listening to a cacophony of rain, sirens, and breaking tree limbs.

Two nights ago, we awoke in the middle of the night because the sound of a cracking tree limb was so close to our window that we were convinced it was either gunfire or someone bursting through our front door. Well, what I actually awoke to was Husband throwing his body on top of mine and brandishing his flashlight like a lightsaber, piercing the darkness in search of our foolish would-be assailant.

May I never again claim that chivalry is dead.

I have no title for this entry because every title I've thought up would get me in trouble