Red Mosquito

Monkey_Driven wrote:

tragabigzanda wrote:

Monkey_Driven wrote:I love summer, but I'm ready for school to start and the kids to get back into a consistent routine.

this feels early

School starts in less than two weeks!

dad wrote:

Monkey_Driven wrote:

tragabigzanda wrote:

Monkey_Driven wrote:I love summer, but I'm ready for school to start and the kids to get back into a consistent routine.

this feels early

School starts in less than two weeks!

school starts next Thursday here.

Monkey_Driven wrote:

dad wrote:

Monkey_Driven wrote:

tragabigzanda wrote:

Monkey_Driven wrote:I love summer, but I'm ready for school to start and the kids to get back into a consistent routine.

this feels early

School starts in less than two weeks!

school starts next Thursday here.

What grades are they starting? Two more years until we're done with daycare and both kids are in school.

Chris_H_2 wrote:

doug rr wrote:

Chris_H_2 wrote:we're starting the college prep stuff in earnest, including touring campuses. i thought it was way too early for a rising junior (hate that term by the way), but alas i'm wrong. by this time next year the expectation is that my kid has all of his essays written and some apps ready to send out.

life was a lot simpler when i went to college when we didn't have a common app and you couldn't apply to 40 schools at the press of a button.

[goes to yell at a cloud]

if only he was left handed and could throw 95

i mean, we can't all have bammer's kids

doug rr wrote:if we had kids I dont think we'd be alive now

bodysnatcher wrote:what is your family's zit cream budget?!

Monkey_Driven wrote:

doug rr wrote:if we had kids I dont think we'd be alive now

bc you would raise murderers?

doug rr wrote:

Monkey_Driven wrote:

doug rr wrote:if we had kids I dont think we'd be alive now

bc you would raise murderers?

oh heavens no..we're great with kids but only for a couple of hours..not a life time

dad wrote:

bodysnatcher wrote:what is your family's zit cream budget?!

less than the milk budget.

E.H. Ruddock wrote:

dad wrote:

bodysnatcher wrote:what is your family's zit cream budget?!

less than the milk budget.

With just two of my wife's kids here this summer, a 14 year old boy and an 18 year old girl, we are averaging just under 3 gallons of milk a week. Fucking insane. My wife and I don't drink it.

E.H. Ruddock wrote:

dad wrote:

bodysnatcher wrote:what is your family's zit cream budget?!

less than the milk budget.

With just two of my wife's kids here this summer, a 14 year old boy and an 18 year old girl, we are averaging just under 3 gallons of milk a week. Fucking insane. My wife and I don't drink it.

Carl Sandburg wrote:There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

Carl Sandburg wrote:There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.