open mic

I've told Anne to give up hope.  We set three Louisiana flour traps Friday night.  My brother heard about them on a show called "Duck Dynasty."

I put water and 4-legged crickets (don't tell the kids.  I hope I don't have to face them at the judgement bar.  The crickets, I mean.) in the middle of the floor, hoping that by morning there would be tracks in the flour.  No luck.  The odds of a baby gecko surviving this long on its own have got to be pretty slim.

In happier news, Damon had a good birthday.  I wasn't going to let him have a party, because I hate throwing them, but then the day before his birthday mom-guilt got the better of me and we quickly invited some friends from school over.  Damon chose pizza and banana cream pie and wanted to play "old fashioned games like the limbo," which we did. 

The primary sang "Where Love Is" in sacrament meeting today.  Anne stationed herself at the pulpit (I'd like to know who pulled the stool out for her), and the Bishop did her a favor by not turning off the microphone.  First she started waving her arm like a chorister.  Then, kind of like Angela Lansbury being backed up by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, she sang "Where love is, there God is also" whenever those words occurred in the song.  She didn't seem to know any of the other lyrics.  At the end, she said "Good-bye" and went to sit back down with me and Jake.  "Why are you crying, Mommy?" Claire and Anne asked.  "Because your singing was so beautiful."  And because I was laughing so hard.

After church Anne went missing for 10 minutes.  I was about to call the police when the other ward found her hiding with another girl under the sacrament table--in the chapel where not 15 minutes earlier I had told her her she was not allowed to play.  She came home to a nice long time out, and I promised her that if she ever hid from me again like that, she'd get a spanking she'd never forget (I don't spank my kids, but making me think she was kidnapped deserves a spanking).

During her time-out, she overheard Claire telling me how worried she [Claire] had been while we were looking for Anne.  Anne said, "Now I know Claire loves me.  That's never happened before."  (It's hard for Claire to know if she loves you or not, people.  Don't ask her if she does, or you might get an answer you don't want, like Anne did a few months ago.  It's an unpleasant experience.)