AdVeNtUrE oF AuNt WiNdA & MiSs HeAdEr

Last Thanksgiving I was literally half way around the world... this year I was a bit closer to home, well I WAS home! My friend Heather and I took a road trip down to Charlotte, N.C., to spend time with my fam. Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince kept us occupied for the overly long journey home (and back) as well as some popcorn and edamame I snagged from work.

The weekend was spent losing races to two boys under the age of 5--from an inconsequential spot to the nearest mailbox , helping write letters to Santa, a girly sleep over full of High School Musical (I and II) and eating copious amounts of food. As a result the gym was a bit hard today and I can't get "Get'cha Head in the Game" out of my head (which side note was filmed at Heather's high school, yup my nieces loved that!)

One of the funnier moments happened when I was getting ready to leave on Sunday. During my visit I was talking to my nephew Beckham who is expecting a little sister soon. I asked him if he was excited, he said no. I was a bit surprised but asked him why. He was worried he would not be a good older brother. Somehow we got on the topic of what HIS dad did growing up. For a little bit of background, growing up my mom had this idea that when someone did something and no one would fess up, collaboration would bring forth the culprit (still trying to find an example of a domestic or foreign policy where this actually resulted in apprehending the correct culprit.) She would give my brothers and I five minutes to talk and then the offender would then have to magically come forward. No matter the offender (DEREK- evidence always underneath his bed) we would all take "turns" saying it was us. However, ironically it was always my brother Neil or I who had to confess. I wonder how they ever thought a 5 year old could make a carton of ice cream disappear? hmm....

So, mocking his dad we were teaching Beckham what we thought was a nice little moral: Always tell the truth and don't blame things on others. Well during Sunday dinner Beckham leans over and whispers in my ear, "I know how to be a good brother now. When I eat the ice cream or chocolate chips, I shouldn't hid it under my bed." aaah yes, Victory! Moral clearly grasped.