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The Living Without Series

This is a series of posts that I wrote back in 2006 on living with less stuff. Check them out: liv011Living #2liv031liv04

Coal Creek Farm on Facebook

The Chicken Doctor


The Architect


Pocket incinerator and Laying Babies

Levi the 5 year-old has entered the “ask a billion questions a day” phase.  It’s slightly painful, but also hilarious because he asks me things like, “Mom, what does, ‘Knock it OFF!’ mean?” along with dozens of other words and phrases.  I’ve learned that my use of synonyms is actually pretty good.  He’s also fascinated in family relationships.  He just learned that he will not be able to marry his sister, that I won’t be having anymore babies coming out of my belly, that Grandma is in fact my mom and I came out of her belly and that someday he really will want to live somewhere besides with me. 

Isaac, my 8 year-old, was asking me where you are supposed to live when you go to college.  I was explaining that you could live several places.  If you live close to school then you could live at home or you can live on the college campus or an apartment.  Ike decided that he’ll just live at home while he’s in college and then announced he’ll stay at home after college too.  I’ve got to start making their lives in this house more uncomfortable.  Then he asked, what is a dorm?  So, I explained what a college dorm is and that I lived in one when I went to college and then I lived in an apartment and after I married Daddy I lived in a house.  That’s when Levi chimed in and said, “And then you started laying babies!”  He’s going to get it all figured out before he goes to Kindergarten this fall.

All these questions came to me while I was driving to meet Clay for lunch with our boys.  During our lunch Isaac said, “I wish there was a little trash can that fit in my pocket with a lid and it would burn everything.”  So basically, my son wants to have a pocket incinerator, which for him I don’t think would be such a bad idea considering how he leaves a trail of trash, toys, crumbs and socks wherever he goes.  However, seeing as the boy can’t remember to shut off a light, flush the toilette, or put anything away, I highly doubt he would remember to use the pocket incinerator for anything other than to show it to all his friends and burn things that are not trash but most likely my most prized possessions.

These two little blond headed boys.  What would I do without them?

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