Your purse or mine?

Sarah Piper is the new main street manager in our town, meaning that she'll be running plenty of meetings with community leaders. As if it weren't hard enough to preside over such groups, now she needs to watch out that the Library Director doesn't rummage in her purse and steal her stuff.

See, what happened one morning last week was: YaGoof's own Janet Eldred, Director of the Hollidaysburg Area Public Library, arrived at a morning community meeting, took a seat next to Sarah and dropped her car keys into her purse.

Except the keys actually went into Sarah's purse, which was between them on the floor. Janet forgot that she hadn't even brought her purse in with her.

Janet needed a pen and found it in the purse. It crossed her mind that she didn't recall where she got that particular pen.

When the meeting broke up, Janet dove in again for her keys and at that point realized that this wasn't her purse. By then, her keys were in her fist, and she slunk away.

Except when she got to her car, the keys didn't fit in the lock.

So she had to turn around and trade keys with Sarah as she came out.

Janet, Ya Goof!

P.S. Sarah grew up down the block from us. We've known her since long before she even started carrying a purse or Janet's keys.

1002 ways to goof up (continued)

516. Misalign a zipper's teeth.
515. Lose the end of a roll of tape. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRGH!
514. Repeatedly shock yourself with static electricity.
513. Open the sliding door of your van while pumping gas so that it slams into the safety lock.

It's not exactly that I can't place the face

This past Saturday, the boys and I marched in the semi-famous Hollidaysburg Halloween parade with the group from the Library. One of the Library ladies was dressed as a faceless ghoul, similar to the image below (but without the sickle).

Mrs. Ghoul introduced me to her husband, Mr. Ghoul, who wore a matching costume, also faceless.

"Actually, we've met before," he said, gesturing to Ethan. "I was an assistant coach on one of Ethan's Pee Wee teams."

Pee Wee was a long time ago, so it would have been hard enough to remember this man, but on top of that, I had no face to go by (due to his costume). So I took his word for it.

After we chatted for a few minutes, Mr. Ghoul ambled over to Ethan.

Ethan looked up.

I guess you had to be there, but it was pretty comical when Mr. Ghoul said (forgetting that he had no face): "You don't remember me, do you?"

Ya Ghoul! I mean, Ya Goof!

Emmett loses his shoes to the Man

Here is Hippie (Emmett) being menaced by Tiger (Emmett's buddy Michael) before they go out to trick or treat. Notice Hippie's guitar case. That's where the treats go!

Also notice Hippie's shoes. Dad's pricey dress shoes! Hippie, Ya Goof! Wrong look! Bad Hippie! (Hippie changed footgear.)

Aftermath: The guitar case filled up nicely.

And the facial hair washed off!

Happy Halloween!

P.S. Note that I'm posting this on October 27. Halloween hasn't come yet, but in our area, Trick-or-Treat Night has. It happens by town decree on the preceding Thursday. I never realized until moving here that you could tamper with holidays!

Juice on the loose

This week, Ethan and Emmett both took part in an all-day music workshop at at Roosevelt Junior High School. All students were to dress in black and white, and the boys left the house in the morning with their clothes and shoes carefully packed away.

Well, in Ethan's case, not so carefully. He filled an empty soda bottle with orange juice and threw that in, too.

Not far into the morning, he found out that the juice found its way out of the bottle. He called me at work to let me know I'd need to bring him another set of clothes. I'd been planning to work late and drive straight to Roosevelt. Instead, I had to leave work a little early, drive home and backtrack fifteen minutes.

Here's your shirt read to go into the wash, Ethan (Ya Goof):

I know why your drawer won't balance tonight

I stopped at Dollar Tree this evening for some poster board (3 for a buck!) and owed $1.06.

It was a small pleasure to find a dime and a penny in my pocket to hand over along with the George in my wallet.

The clerk (let's call her Missy ... yeah, Little Miss MISS-y) handed me my receipt.

But no nickel.

In that situation, even a cheap ________ like I am doesn't say, "I gave you $1.11." Not that I didn't require a tick of time to check my natural reflex to do so before I went on my way.

Here's another small pleasure: Missy, Ya Goof!

Take your pills ... aboard

A friend who I'll call G. (because I don't want to identify him, okayyyy?) mentioned the other day that he recently flew to Japan. He took care to put his blood pressure medicine inside his briefcase so it would be handy during the flight.

But he forgot the briefcase.

G, Ya Goof!

Put down the scissors and nobody gets hurt

It's okay if you didn't know that the tag on a mattress or pillow is also called a law label.

But if you think that means that it's against the law to remove it from a purchase, I have to say: Ya Goof!

Proof? Here.

A signature mistake

You hardcore baseball collectors know this already. I only learned it recently:

Don't offer a player a Sharpie for an autograph on a baseball. A Sharpie signature will bleed into the baseball. The weapon of choice is a blue ballpoint pen. Not black ballpoint, because that could be mistaken for a printed-on signature. So if you bring a Sharpie to the baseball stadium, I have to say: Ya Goof!

1002 ways to goof up (continued)

I've committed all of these at work recently:

520. Accidentally ruin the settings on your ergonomic desk chair.
519. Forget to put your lunch away in the refrigerator. Yuck! room-temperature yogurt.
518. Answer the telephone wearing a headset receiver but fail to hit the headset button--so you sound like you're speaking into the telephone from across the room.

Plus this one that I've committed before but not lately:

517. Answer the telephone only to find that it was ringing only in a television program.

The bald facts

A story from my baby sister Kimberly about her older son Tyler (with a mention of her husband Herman):

A couple of months ago, Tyler wanted me to pick up a "buzzer" at Walmart so he could start cutting his own hair. Tyler's too cheap to spend $$ on going to a salon to get his haircut, although we were still paying. In his opinion it was a big waste. Can you see where this is going?

He used it the first time, and I was there to supervise. All was good. I trimmed up the back for him, did the sideburns. Maybe he was right ... maybe this was a good idea.

It had only been about a month, and he wanted to cut his hair again. I told him that his hair was fine, it didn't need to be cut yet. Herm and I were watching the news in the living room and in comes Tyler.

"Mom?" He turns around then facing away from me. "Does the back of my hair look okay?"

What he had done was, he buzzed his hair to its normal length, taken the guard off to trim his sideburns, thought the back could use another "go over" with the buzzer and--OOPS!--forgot to put the guard back on!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There was this two inch bald strip from the top of his head to the bottom of his neck. Needless to say, I now have a 16-year-old son WHO looks like he just joined the Marines.

By the way, I'm not writing what I said after he showed it to me. I will say, I did rub in the fact that I had said his hair was fine to begin with. I can laugh now though.

Then Kimberly adds this comment directed to our big sister Tina, referring to our niece Bethany's wedding next summer:

Don't worry Tina, Tyler will not be getting near any buzzers anytime near Bethany's wedding.

And may I add ... Tyler, Ya Goof!

One thing about your ring ...

I owe a deep debt of gratitude to my friend and co-worker Tammy for showing me just how filthy and disgusting I really am.

Or was. On one of my digits.

It started with this email that she sent this morning:

Jewelry Cleaning Offered for a Limited Time!!

I brought my jewelry cleaner in today… isn't that exciting! So today and today only I'm offering a free ring cleaning service to my Pigger family. If you want your rings cleaned, drop them off (around lunch time) and I'll clean them for you. Your satisfaction is 100% guaranteed. Check out the sparkling rings on Bridget, Jenn, Lisa and Doug.

I wandered over to Tammy's desk. She held out her palm, but I held my ring hand out of view.

"I'm not sure I can go through with it," I said. "I've only ever taken my ring off once in the seventeen years I've been married." That was a for a photo shoot at work when I possessed the only pair of hands available but I couldn't wear a distracting ring.

"You won't believe the difference," Tammy said. "You should have seen Steve's* ring before and after. People don't realize that gold tarnishes just like other metals." She motioned for my ring again. "Fork it over."

I did.

And woman, was she right! She below for a picture of the grime she pulled off my ring.

Now I'm spreading the gospel. To everyone out there wearing junked-up jewelry (a.k.a, guys), if you have a chance to get it cleaned ... don't hesitate, Ya Goof!

* His real name

Wet beggars can't be choosers

Another YMCA-in-the-morning story ...

A few weeks ago, I forgot my towel. It happens from time to time, and not only to me. The Y keeps a supply of towels at the front desk to lend out. You use the towel, take it home, launder it, bring it back. A friend let me in on this one day when he noticed I was drying off with paper towels from the bathroom area.

Except on this day a few weeks ago when I discovered (while still fully clothed!) that I'd forgotten my towel, Darlene at the front desk was fresh out of loaners.

"Wait, I do have these," she said.

"I'll take 'em!"

A set of washcloths, each with a bunny on it! I threw them in on a shelf in the basement after they came out of the wash. I gotta take 'em back on Monday.

Keith, Ya Goof!

Wardrobe malfunctions

I'm coming off a bad week in terms of dressing myself on mornings when I swim.

I wear my swimsuit and sandals out of the house--and my shirt for the day--and take everything else that I need in my gym bag so I can leave right from the YMCA to go to work. Otherwise, I first have to backtrack home.

On Monday, I forgot that I'd need a belt.

On Wednesday, I forgot my shoes.

On Friday, I packed with utmost care and determination. Not until I reached the locker room did I notice that I wasn't carrying anything. I'd forgotten my gym bag entirely.

1002 ways to goof up (continued)

523. Mistakenly buy runny original Yoplait instead of nice, thick custard-style Yoplait. Mmm.
522. Throw ketchup packets in your purse and forget about them until they burst.
521. ,ods;omh upit gomhrtd pm upit lrunpstf (Translation: Misalign your fingers on a keyboard.)

1002 ways to goof up (continued)

529. Assemble furniture incorrectly.
528. Stay on hold on the telephone for an hour and then accidentally hang up.
526. Cut up your new credit card that just came in the mail rather than the old one that it replaced.
525. Spill maple syrup on the pants you're about to return.
524. Carefully crease paper to make it tear neatly and then rip it in the wrong place.

1002 ways to goof up (continued)

537. Roll down your window inside a carwash
536. Wait in line for a carwash and discover that you don’t have any money
535. Leave window open going into a carwash
534. Go to the dentist or doctor when you don’t have an appointment
533. Send back a Blockbuster movie in a Netflix envelope
532. Mis-remember your long-ago high school mascot
531. Reply to the wrong person in email
530. Put your keys in the pocket of your fold-up canvas chair while watching the Little League game and then lock the car (and the keys) in your trunk

Just call me the boss of sauce loss

Forgive the ugly picture below. I'm trying to impart an important reminder:

Trying to save time sometimes costs you far more time than you'd ever save.

In this case, I was attempting to save the precious seconds lost in extracting barbecue sauce from a bottle that was getting low. I stored the bottle upside-down in one of the shelves in the fridge door. I've always gotten a kick out of bottles made to be stored upside down. The idea is great and simple. Simply great!

Note: My big sister and her husband have complained to me that ketchup spurts or even explodes from a bottle designed for upside-down storage, but I've never had that happen. Maybe it's due to higher air pressure in their house. Completely plausible, given how this sister can talk. Oops, did I type that out loud?

Anyway, the barbecue sauce bottle that I stored for speedy use wasn't made to be stored upside-down, but it would have done the job just fine IF I'd made sure that the cap was on tight.

Don't get ahead of me now. Let a couple beats go by to denote that two weeks passed before I next reached for that particular bottle.

That's when I found that all of the sauce had flowed out of the bottle through the loosened cap and onto the bottle's shelf ... and the shelf below that ... and the shelf below that. Like so:

The picture doesn't show the bottles that had been stored in that column of space. I took them to the sink to scrub off their tangy, sticky covering.

All I can say is: Keith ...

Armstrong un-goofs!

Hey! The story from yesterday continues! Look at the email that I discovered after lunch today:

I would like to personally respond to your comments posted yesterday relative to your being on hold for four hours with Armstrong. My name is Charles Wrightson and I am responsible for Customer Service in our Floor Products Operation. This is totally unacceptable customer service and we sincerely apologize for your extended inconvenience. Our caller experience is extremely important to us and we take the process very seriously.

We do track metrics specific to phone calls with all departments. Our records indicate the longest hold time for yesterday in any department for Flooring Products was 9 minutes 28 seconds. Our corporate communications team also ran a query for all 23 incoming queues for the entire Company and the longest hold time was 17 minutes ( which is used for internal vendors and retirees ). So your experience leads us to believe that we may have a problem with our systems. Would you please do us a favor and tell us which phone number you used to contact us and most importantly we want to help you with your question regarding the floor in your church.

From your message , it is difficult to determine how we can best reach you, other than by e mail. My phone number is xxx-xxx-xxxx. I will be travelling the rest of this week, so please leave a message if I don`t answer , or you can reach Kathy Mallinson at xxx-xxx-xxxx.

Again, we apologize and are extremely embarrassed by your experience. I can assure you it is not how we want to be perceived, nor how we normally conduct business. Thanks for giving us the opportunity to recover from our goof.

Nice! Here's how I replied:

Now *this* is encouraging! Not only because it looks like I'll get some information but because Armstrong is hip enough to watch even little-read blogs (and fewer blogs are littler-read than this one!). I assume you watch the net for mention of your company with Google alerts or other means. Way to stay current, AWI! I'll post this on the blog in a way that will give you heaps of credit but protect your privacy.

I was calling from xxx-xxx-xxxx. Please let me know what your log shows for that number, if anything. I'll try calling you now. Thanks.

And a little later, I added:

Satisfaction at last! I tried your phone, got your voice mail, called Kathy, and she transferred me to Jennie Kapwell, who gave me solid answers! I'm once again strong on Armstrong! As mentioned in my previous email, I called from xxx-xxx-xxxx and hope to hear back as to whether that number shows up in your system. And I'll give you kudos on YaGoof.com tonight! Thanks.

I really have to hand it to Armstrong. I'm not completely surprised, though. I attended a work seminar some years ago where there was a very interesting speaker who spoke about how seriously Armstrong takes customer service. As I recall, the speaker said that Armstrong had a product that customers regularly damaged by using the wrong type of cleaner, apparently because they weren't reading the directions, and the result was many unhappy customers. Armstrong turned the situation around by beginning to print their support number right on the product, which made customers have to call up to ask how to get the !@#$ printing off--which created the opportunity to tell the customers the correct type of cleaner to use! Satisfaction soared! Brilliant! The speaker's point was that complainers (like moi) can become among the most loyal of customers if you treat them right.

There's no doubt that the next time I need to think about flooring, the first brand that I'll consider will be Armstrong. Armstrong World Industries is our first official Un-Goof.

Charles Wrightson, thanks so much for your email! I do hope to hear back about whether my phone number shows up in your system--and maybe you can verify or correct the details of the "how do you remove the printing story."

Just hold on an afternoon now, ya whippersnapper

I set a personal record today.

I waited on hold on the telephone for four straight hours. Yep, 12:30 until 4:30, when the company I was calling closes and anyone who happens to be waiting on hold is just ... let go.

The company: Armstrong World Industries

The situation: Our church just had new flooring installed, and we received some advice to apply wax. I researched it on Armstrong.com--which has lots of great info--and it doesn't look like we should apply wax (just cleaner and polish instead), but I wanted a technical rep to confirm that, so I called the support line.


Let's see, since I heard it about 800 times, maybe I can recall what the recorded voice kept saying every so often ... It was something like ...

Thank you for your patience, but we don't have anyone to talk to you, so please go to our website instead.

Okay, okay, it was a little nicer than that, but the result was the same: No live help.

The reason I held on so long: I had a bunch of (relatively brainless) design to do at work today, and I have a headset that plugs into my phone, so I just refused to hang up. After the first hour, it became a challenge. I had kind of hoped to listen to an entire Stephen King audio novel this afternoon, but hey ... the on-hold message from Armstrong World Industries is nearly as entertaining.

Nearly.

People of Armstrong ... Ya Goofs!

Dire dairy dollars

Ethan and Emmett are in Vermont at Camp Grammie.*

*Translation: Our sons are making their annual summer stay with my parents for two weeks.

Janet and I have the house to ourselves back here in Pennsylvania.**

**Yippeeeee!

I drove the boys up on Thursday; Janet needed to stay home. Needless to say, every stop for food involved bacon. And we found every opportunity to stop at creemee*** stands in Vermont.

***Soft-serve ice cream, for those of you not from New England.

My older sister, Tina, said to be sure to stop for creemees at one particular stand in Jeffersonville, Vermont (everyone up there usually just calls the town Jeff). So the three of us did stop at that particular stand.

The signs featured messy handwriting but neat prices for the creemees:

$1.00 baby
$1.25 small
$1.50 large
$1.75 extra-large

I'm genetically very chea--er, thrifty, so that list made me downright weepy.

Creemee stands give you big servings. Tina wouldn't have recommended this place if they skimped on the product. I ordered a small size, knowing that there would be plenty to lick--and indeed there was.

Ethan and Emmett wanted milkshakes. The price wasn't listed, but--oh, it pains me to say it--I figured that if the creemee prices were so favorable, I would find the milkshake prices the same.

Oh, dread and fatal flaw.

The guy at the window was manning the place alone--it was a slow night--and he handed out my creemee and then went to work on the milkshakes. It was a warm night (perfect creemee weather), so I licked my entire treat away before he was done, with time to spare. With a light heart, I jauntily took the time to lay out my money for speedy payment: a five, four ones and a quarter all lined up so that I could choose the best combination for paying. I expected most of the currency to go back in my pocket.

Mr. Window Man finally handed out the goods and toted up the bill, which he announced as ...

$9.25

Oh, evil stake through a penurious heart.

I numbly gathered up my entire monetary display and transferred it through the window. I don't remember the walk to the car; I simply found myself behind the wheel. I put the car in gear. I checked both ways. I motored onto the road with a heart as heavy as if I'd accidentally driven over the cake that won the blue ribbon at the state fair.

I fumbled about in my mind for comfort. I wouldn't have batted an eye at $2.00 apiece for the milkshakes. Perhaps even $2.50. So I would easily (I couldn't go so far as to say gladly) handed over as much as $6.00. But to have miscalculated by 50% was bitter, bitter, bitter.

"Let this be a lesson to you," I told the boys. "ALWAYS know the price beforehand." I drew some courage from the thought that the experience had been valuable for my offspring.

Still ... it was hard to sleep.

To say "Keith, YaGoof!" does little justice to my mental anguish. I can only hope to get over it in time.

1002 ways to goof up

539. Drop your keys and credit cards into an automatic toilet.
538. Show up at a Saturday event on Friday.

Hosed big time

Want an example of a powerful brand name? Here ya go.

What brand do you associate with blood drives?

Betcha said RED CROSS.

This came home to me when I responded to a recent email at work announcing a blood drive organized by the family of a local preschooler suffering from leukemia. I was due to give, and I was taking the day off, so I showed up at the drive at 1:00.

And I didn't leave until 3:34.

That's right, boys and girls, two-and-a-half hours. I don't regret giving blood, of course, in honor of the boy and his family and to help whoever will use my blood, but still ... TWO-AND-A-HALF HOURS?? in about 25 years of giving blood, I've never had a drawing take longer than an hour, including one where I was also typed to donate bone marrow. In fact, almost every time the Red Cross got me in and out in under 40 minutes.

And oh, by the way, this was NOT a Red Cross blood drive. Who knew that anyone else even collects blood? See what I mean by a powerful brand name? I don't want to name the other, non-RC organization, because of my poor experience. I was curious to see how they would do--I root for the underdog and all that--but they let me down, waaaaaaaay down.

And get this, there's going to be a RED CROSS blood drive next week at my workplace, where I most often give blood, and for the first time ever, each donor will receive a free insulated lunch bag and will be entered in a drawing for a $10 gas card.

: (

I mentioned all of this to a friend at work, and he said he heard that the free lunch bags will have the Red Cross logo and this tagline:

If you give blood anywhere else, you best pack a lunch.

(Unnamed Blood Drive People), Ya Goofs!

P.S. These blood-sucking goofs did send me a thoughtful and apologetic reply to my email with the subject line "Where do I go to get my time back?" They explained that more donors showed up at the beginning of the drive than they expected. I don't buy it, though--their process was simply inefficient, with confusing paperwork and directions.

P.P.s. Please scroll up to the top of this post and take note of my Best. Title. Ever.

Look out belooooooooooooooooow

On the eve of Independence Day, Janet's gall bladder gained its independence.

In other words, she had surgery on July 3.

We spent the Fourth of July getting the house ready for her return. We've just had new windows put in, so preparations included returning a bedroom air conditioner to its window.

Except the air conditioner didn't fit the new frame as well as the old frame. As I attempted to adjust the unit, I lost my grip and it fell about fifteen feet to the lawn. Fortunately, it didn't hit anyone or anything (except grass).

We'd only had it for about two months, naturally. So I got one just like it at Lowe's.

Keith, Ya Goof!

Hm, is this the old air conditioner or the new air conditioner?

Look, matching remote controls!

Good Lawd, what a way to start the day

Every workplace in Pennsylvania is required to have a lively process analyst who hails from deep in Mississippi, and ours is Selesia Byrd.

Selesia works in a different building from me, so I was surprised to see her walking across the parking lot just ahead of me after I arrived today. I soon saw why. She was too embarrassed to report to her own department.

"Y'all will never guess what I did first thing this morning," she said.


Can YOU ALL guess?


She's taken up residence in a lounge-type area in this building, bellied up close to a table. It appears she'll be stain put (no typo). Have laptop, will travel.

Selesia, Ya Goof!

Two bagger

Emmett did a good job yesterday evening getting ready for his field trip today. I didn't see this directly, because I went to bed before he and Ethan and Janet did, but there was evidence when I came down this morning: I found Emmett's trip shirt on the kitchen table and his lunch all packed in the fridge, except for a small bag of chips on the counter.

On the counter, there was also a matching bag of chips that I figured was for Ethan. Every parent of multiple kids knows the importance of being equitable. This wanes only a little when kids enter double digits in age, so I assumed that Janet just snagged the second bag for Ethan when she got Emmett's.

But no. When Emmett was gathering up his stuff for us to meet the trip bus at 5:45, he grabbed both bags of chips.

"Both bags?" I said.

"Well, there are two bus rides," Emmett said. "There and back."

I rolled my eyes but let it go. Once in a while, ya gotta let a kid kick back and overeat.

Still ... Emmett, Ya Goof!

1002 ways to goof up

541. Delete a voice mail message by accident.
540. Drop your cell phone into the toilet.

Misjordin' words during the blake-off

We just experienced a strange confluence of events.

We're watching a recording of the American Idol finale. I'm fighting off contenders for use of the laptop.

Blake Lewis was launching into his first song.

Janet asked me to check the online calendar that we use, at BackpackIt.com; she was afraid that she'd missed Ethan's latest orthodontist appointment. But I found it in the square for May 29.

Just then, Blake reached his big finish.

"Nope, next Tuesday," I said, to Janet (referring to the appointment).

"There is no next Tuesday," Ethan said.

Everyone turned to Ethan and said: "Huh?" He was canceling next Tuesday?

Ethan returned a quizzical look, then understanding dawned. He thought that my "Nope, next Tuesday" meant that I was dissing Blake's performance and suggesting he might do better next week.

Ethan, Ya Goof!

Most Valuable Goof

Here's Emmett with the game ball he received in his last Little League game. He went 3-for-4 with two singles and a double.

This was after not laying a bat on a ball through the first five games. Hitting is not (usually) his strength. He has a way of watching strikes go by.

Before the previous game, I advised Emmett to swing at the first three pitches in each at-bat. Not everyone agrees with that piece of coaching, but my observation is that Emmett used up so much time deciding whether to swing that he didn't have enough time left to actually swing.

Emmett didn't like the advice during the last game and didn't follow it. I reiterated it during this game by holding up three fingers (for the first three pitches) each time I caught his attention from the stands.

"Emmett!" I called out as I approached the field ... as I took my seat ... as he took throws in the outfield ... as he was on deck. He'd look up. I'd raise the three fingers. He'd give a little smile, but not an obedient smile.

He approached the plate. Swung. Missed. But still ... one pitch, one swing. Maybe he was going to, yes, play ball with my approach this time?

Second pitch. Swing. Solid hit!! It scooted past second base! Emmett was so stunned that he almost forgot to run. I called his name when he was standing on first. I held up the three fingers and got that smile from him. Emmett eventually made it to third, and was the first runner in on a grand slam by Hannah Mercer. (Note: Hannah was definitely a candidate for the game ball, too ... but let's just say that she has a superior chance of getting another one. She's a sweet kid who can see the big picture.)

Next time Emmett was up, I showed him the three fingers again. He swung on the first pitch again and got a double.

"There's half the cycle right there!" I said to Don Mercer, Hannah's dad. He laughed. When Emmett took the outfield again, I went to the fence and held my arm over, extending the three fingers. Emmett met them with three fingers.

I held up the fingers again when Emmett went to the plate again. He struck out, but it was with two fouls and many swings.

I hoisted the three fingers again for Emmett to see when he took the plate the fourth time. And he got another other single. And the game ball.

I hugged him when he showed it to me. "Nice job!" I said.

And get this. He said ...

"You know, it really pays to listen to the coach."

"The coach? The coach??!" What about the Three Fingers?!

"Well, the Coach said to watch the rotation of the ball."

"The rotation of the--?"

Emmett, you're a goof! (And I'm proud of ya!)

You could say he staged his own disappearance

Yesterday, all of us were primed to go to the Junior High Spring Orchestra Concert and hear Ethan play his cello. That includes Ethan's grandmother, Leah, and great-aunt, Lois. And okay, it leaves out Emmett, who needless to say is a huge Ethan supporter ... but he had a Little League game at the same time.

Until Ethan told us that he mixed up the dates and his concert isn't until next Tuesday.

Janet tried to reach her mother and Lois to tell them the news, but she couldn't. We caught up with them when they ambled over to the Little League Field after the concert.

"It was a nice show," Leah said, "but we never did see Ethan!"

Naturally, I turned to him and said: "Ya Goof!"

Analysis of a NON-goof

Here's one for the advanced curriculum ... A circumstance that MADE me look like a goof when I wasn't. Honest!

THE SETTING

• The cafeteria at work
• The hallway outside the cafeteria

THE PLAYERS

• Myself
• A co-worker, Angie
• A co-worker, Jim

THE ACTION
Scene 1
I was leaving the cafeteria as Angie entered. We work in the same building but different areas. We exchanged greetings.

Scene 2
A ways down the hallway, I remembered something that I needed from the cafeteria, so I turned around and went back.

Scene 3
I met Angie coming out of the cafeteria, followed by another co-worker, Jim, who works in yet another area different from mine or Angie's. I greeted Jim, but since I had just seen Angie, I couldn't very well greet her again, so I simply passed her by. Jim may have wondered why I was ignoring her.

But see? I was innocent!

Keith, Ya Non-Goof!

Some Chex off the ol' block

It's 24 night. Janet and I are watching the show with our friends Ames and Kenny.

We have some Chex Mix left over from a party on Saturday. I asked Emmett to carry a small plate of the Mix from the kitchen to Kenny in the living room. Along the way, Emmett tipped the plate, so he lost some of the contents. Chex Mix is slippery stuff.

I grumbled a little and helped Emmett whisk-broom the stuff up.

A few minutes later, placing my own Chex Mix to the side, I spilled a bunch, too.

What is that line about the family that goofs together?

1002 ways to goof up (continued)

546. Meet with person A in A's office and accidentally pick up loads of A's stuff along with your own. (Janet did this yesterday, even walking off with a nifty medallion. When she got back to her own office, there was a message from A asking [nicely] if she was a kleptomaniac.)
545. Throw away your retainer along with your trash at a fast food restaurant. (Ethan did this after a stop on the way home from a church trip.)
544. Leave a message on someone's voice mail asking them to pick up--but it's not the kind of set-up where messages can be heard on an external speaker.
543. Mis-remember your high school mascot.
542. Place your keys in the cup holder pocket of one of those canvas fold-up chairs ... but forget about them when you fold up the chair ... and then go nuts looking for your keys.

1002 ways to goof up (continued)

564. Stand at a vending machine after putting in your money, staring at your item, wondering why it doesn't fall--then realized that you haven't punched in the numbers.
563. Lose a check that someone gave you.
562. Lose your car in the parking lot.
561. Forget to spring forward.
560. Enter an O instead of a 0.
559. Or vice-versa.
558. Or fall back.
557. During a rainstorm, stand where you'll be drenched by the spray of a passing car.
555. Forget you coulda had a V8.
554. Search for your keys as you're driving.
553. Attempt to drop off your kid at school and discover that it's a vacation day.
552. Set out a piece of mail on a federal holiday.
551. Accidentally discard your silverware at Panera Bread.
550. Forget an appointment.
549. Accidentally knock your dog off the bed.
548. Get thrown out of the library for talking too loud.
547. Respond to someone saying hello when they were actually speaking to someone else on a cell phone.

So how's the new job?

You're a plumber's apprentice.

It's your first day at work.

You burn down a mansion.

Emmett speaks!

That went so well that I just had to haul Emmett out of bed and try another Gabcast right away. Be advised: He might sound a little sleepy.

Gabcast! YaGoof! #2



Nice job, Emmett!

Emmett adds: Dad, Ya Goof!

Our first gabcast!

If this works, I'll explain what it is.

Heck, Keith, if it works, it won't need any explanation. Ya Goof.

Go ahead. Hit the PLAY arrow.

Gabcast! YaGoof! #1



Hear that? Perfect! Because I did manage to goof it up. I left a bunch of dead air at the end of the recording, not realizing that I was supposed to push # at the end.

Bad call on my part

There are people sweeter than me. Those who know me will smile, laugh or roll their eyes at the understatement. If my sons were drinking milk right now, the milk would fly out their noses. Let's just say it's not rare for me to be testy.

Here's a case in point:

The phone rang a few minutes ago.

Me: Hello. Eldred's.

Female voice: Is Janet there?

(Janet was on her treadmill.)

Me: Sorry, she can't come to the phone right now.

Voice: Is she asleep or something?

Me: (here's where the testiness begins) Who is this?

Voice: Lacey Steps.

Me: Well, Lacey, I just told you she can't come to the phone.

Lacey: Is this Dave?

Me: This is Keith.

Lacey: (with recognition) Oh, Keith. Are you coming to game night tomorrow?

It dawns on me that Lacey is a sweet young woman who Janet and I had met at our church. A group periodically hosts parties for mentally handicapped adults like Lacey.

Me: Yes, I'll be there.

Lacey: (cheerily) Okay, see you there.

I feel small ...

But those parties always build me up. I get much more out of them than I give.

Keith, Ya Goof.

I-yi-yi

A couple of Interstate stories ...

A co-worker, Dan, was driving down the Interstate with a pal. They were reflecting on their blessings: work, family, friends and agreed: "Life is good!"

Some miles further on, Dan said, "Haven't we been driving too long?" After consulting a map, they realized they should have exited at "Life is good!"

Dan and pal: Ya Goofs!

* * *

Driving to work on I-99 this morning, I came upon one of those convoys transporting huge concrete beams for constructing an overpass—trucks large and small, state police cruisers, bubble lights turning. I was in the passing lane when I realized that I was almost at my exit. Not a good idea to cut between any of those vehicles, so I had to slow down and back up traffic a little bit so that I could let the convoy pass by and then exit. I see now that I was driving beside a quarter-mile-long wall.

Keith, Ya Goof!

Poor guy wasn't left holding the bag

Be happy for Jason Carruthers. His wife, Kristie, owes him big-time.

Kristie works in the same area that I do. Above, you see her holding Jason's insulated lunch bag, which she borrowed yesterday when Jason was off work. This lunch bag is a vital piece of equipment for Jason, who travels all day as a cable technician and can't stop off for food.

Kristie assured Jason that she would bring the bag home. But she forgot. So out there somewhere is a ticked-off cable tech lugging who knows what—a pillow case lined with newspapers or something. Just hope that he's not servicing your account today.

Kristie, Ya Goof!

P.S. I've mistyped Kristie's name so many times in email that I finally just decided to go with it and call her "Krisite" all the time. Keith, Ya Goof!

Et tu, Ragu?

We've recently discovered baked potatoes. Well, re-discovered. A recent batch was so good that we cooked up four more yesterday, to accompany our Easter ham.

"Needs salsa," Ethan said. He fished in the fridge, pulled out a jar and doused his spud.

Focused on our own potatoes, none of us looked Ethan's way for a few moments. Until I thought I'd like some salsa myself and reached for Ethan's jar of ... spaghetti sauce?

Ethan's explanation: "The jars look exactly the same!" To his credit, he shrugged and took a bite of the gourmet dish we'll call Patata bollente con la salsa di spaghetti fredda.

Still ... Ethan, Ya Goof!

Is my lack of catechism showing?

I proved yesterday that I don't know the Catholic calendar that well. Not to mention the secular calendar.

I was on Skype with a friend. "Happy Ash Wednesday," I typed, adding jauntily: "If that's appropriate to say."

"We Catholics recognize Ash Wednesday at the beginning of Lent," he returned. "This is Holy Thursday."

Keith, Ya Goof!

Updated later: Wait, he said Maundy Thursday. Ya Double Goof!

Class is now in session

Our pal Amy Hanna posted a classic goof story on her new blog, which sports the fantastic name of "Have Dog, Will Blog." Her tale involves pets, freezing rain and spare keys; maybe you can guess where that's heading. Scroll down until you see the title "You can learn a lot from a dummy." (Hey, she said it, not us. But we do agree with the educational value.)

One of the many great lines: "My 10-year-old neighbor, John, enthusiastically did offer to break any window of my choosing."

Amy, Ya Goof!

1002 ways to goof up (continued)

569. Read the wrong book for book club.
568. When a fellow book club member asks you which book is next on the schedule, tell them the wrong title, so that that person, too, has also read the wrong book.
567. Ask a fellow book club member which book is next on the schedule rather than checking the schedule yourself.
566. Show up for a public speaking engagement and speak on the wrong topic.
565. (A school thing) Walk into the wrong classroom.

An episode of 24. Degrees, that is.

Our pal Ames joins Janet and me to watch Jack Bauer save the world during 24 season. This week, I poured Ames a glass of the newest flavor of Jazz—Caramel Cream. At the end of the show, I noticed that the glass was still full.

"You didn't like it?" I said.

"Um ... too cold," he said.

I didn't know what to say. He meant that the ice had made his drink too cold?

Janet saw my consternation and spoke up. "He means that it's too cold in here to drink a cold drink!" She said this from under her favorite wool blanket.

Oops. I've more or less made myself the furnace director in our house, and I favor a low setting. and I was wearing a sweater and using the laptop (which heats up one's one laptop). I guess I went too far ... er, too low ... on the thermostat.

Janet is used to this (hence the blanket). But not Ames. Sorry, pal!

Keith, Ya Goof!

Oh, grape!

In her sermon yesterday, our pastor mentioned how one day in late summer she ran into the grape vine in her backyard with the mower. The result? Raisins.

Reverend Marlys, Ya Goof!

1002 ways to goof up (continued)

574. Pick out a greeting card but forget the matching envelope until the clerk reminds you—and then try to find your way back to the same section of the rack.
573. Put off replacing a frayed shoelace so that it breaks when you're already late for work.
572. Get into a "No, you go first" waving duel with another driver at a four-way intersection.
571. Get caught inspecting someone else's lunch in the office refrigerator.
570. Go the vending machine with the wrong amount of change.

The family that goofs together ...

We're behind on posting but not on goofing up. Below are stories from just this week.

* * *

Ethan (though still in eighth grade) starts his day at the high school for Spanish class. Keith usually drives him there "the back way," avoiding the heavy morning bus-and-cars-dropping-off-kids traffic on Hart Street, which runs by the junior high. But Keith absentmindedly turned up Hart Street, making Ethan late arriving at the high school, where Ethan realized that he actually had to start that day at the junior high. So Keith and Ethan took the wrong way to the right place, which turned out to be the wrong place.

* * *

Janet was to pick up Keith at the tire shop on Monday evening but went to the wrong one.

* * *

Keith mistakenly took Janet's keys to work with him. The good news was that she didn't need the car that day. The bad news was that Emmett did need his backpack, which was locked in the car. Keith had to borrow a friend's car and drive back home right after arriving at work.

* * *

So our whole family needs to hear: Ya Goof!

Our home's American Idol fans say ...

Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

America, Ya Goofs!

Must ... not ... think ... about ... the ... ink

Sometimes I wake up hyperventilating. When it all comes back to me.

I went in to work on a Saturday. The boys were with me.

Emmett was about three years old at the time. I looked up, and he had a marker in his hand.

From the corner of my eye, I saw—Ohmygodno, no, no—a marker mark on the wall.

I shot to my feet and raced to the mark. It ran toward the corner. And around. And all the way down the hall.

In a movie, the camera shot would shift to the outside of the building and zoom away to the sound of a yell: Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

All I can say is: God bless the facilities workers who scrubbed the marks off the wall. You could almost not see it afterward.

Wait, I can say one more thing: Emmett, Ya Goof!

hEEllo from E & E in San JosEE

Hey, this is Ethan and Emmett's(notice that Ethan's name is first) but Emmett's name is first in the alphabet and is too good for parentheses anyway, first blog on Yagoof so bear with us here. It's March 3 and we're still in San Jose.

Today Mom planned to visit a community center/library on the outer limits of San Jose, and the Lettermen had to scout the best way to get there with the public transport system before they got to see Dad's old college roommate, Phil who lives in the area. The primary target was a place to eat breakfast though, so we walked around for about 3 years to find the same McDonald's that we ate breakfast @ yesterday(okay so it was actually about 30 minutes). The whole time we were searching we had to keep an eye out for these little signs w/ the word "DASH" on them which stood for "Downtown Area SHuttle." The signs represented places where this little free bus would stop on weekdays and take people around the downtown for free. The only problem was that today was Saturday in Pacific Time (as if it wasn't in Eastern Time), so the shuttle never came. Because of that, we missed our first scouting bus. After that we just walked to the bus station, which was actually a train station (see how confusing this is?) to catch the bus which turned out to be going the wrong way. The way the bus worked was that it went back and forth on its route all day with the Station as one of the stops right in the middle. When it passed the Station while we were there it was going back while we wanted it to go forth. So we ended up at the complete opposite end of the line. So we rode the bus the whole way back to the community center/library end of the line(we had to pay for two bus trips each, by the way since we reached the end of the line the first time.).

After all this, we realized that the next bus wouldn't show up at the library end for another hour. This meant that after the bus ride to the train station, and the train ride to where Phil lives, we wouldn't get to see him for another three hours even though he lived 15 minutes from where we were. So we just called Phil, and he came to pick us up. This meant that we had to call Mom and explain to her the public transport system for her to get to the library. As it turned out we simply picked Mom up from the bus stop ourselves using Phil's GPS navigator, KAREN. On the way we tried to drive down a track for the local train (more like an above-ground subway) and we tried to go the wrong way down a one-way street. Basically today was a blast.

More of San Jose the YaGoof way

I'm at another guest computer in another hotel lobby. We transferred to the Sainte Claire, a very nice Victorian place. The Comfort Suites was nice, but we already had this reservation, too. It's closer to Janet's conference.

Guest computers appear to be common in San Jose, no doubt influenced by the fact that there are so many tech companies here. On a walk last night, we passed an HP building--maybe the headquarters--and an Adobe building--which just HAD to be the headquarters, because they'd gone to the trouble of installing this system of four huge red bisected circles that swiveled around until sometimes the bisections lined up. Just to draw the eye, I guess. I'll google off for a bit and see if I can steal a picture of that ...

Well, maybe later. I can't seem to open two windows at once on this computer.

Anyway, here are the latest goofs:

RISING
I woke up in the Comfort Suites at 4 am (hey, it was 7 am in real (ET) time). Janet growled at me when I tried to quietly rustle around for clothes. So last night I got my clothes organized to prevent having to rustle for them.

OVERHEATING
I woke up at 4 am, but this time, it wasn't jet-lag, it was because the room was too warm. We'd forgotten to turn down the heat.

TOURING
We went to San Francisco yesterday on the subway system that called CalTrain. Along the way, I was looking at some brochures that I'd gotten from the hotel and wished that I had more info. I asked Janet if she'd brought along that California tour book that she'd had at home. She reminded me that I'd advised against it. I'm big on not overpacking.

Looking at the brochures that I did have, I read about getting a Muni passport in San Francisco that lets you ride on basically all public transport. We bought four and then stood outside the station for a while confounded by the map. After about twenty minutes, passing up some buses and doing some street crossing and re-crossing, we finally managed to find the right subway for where we wanted to go.

After doing some exits and transfers, the map started to make sense, and it turned out to be a great purchase. The trains themselves are a great way to travel, and we had our own private bus ride (no other riders) up and down the famous streets of San Francisco. But best of all was riding on the outside of the Powell and Hyde cable car. Emmett ended up right at the prow. Ethan was behind him for a block or two, but at a stop I switched places with Ethan because I saw some big uphill slopes coming, and I wanted to make sure that Emmett (Mr.-I-don't-like-roller-coasters-even-the-slow-ones) was okay. And he was.

RETURNING
After a long, great day, we decided to walk to the hotel from the train station. We had to guess where the right direction was, because we didn't have any maps. That was a potential goof, and we did do just a bit of backtracking, but San Jose doesn't have that big a downtown, so it turned out to be a good move and a very nice walk.

At the end of the day, Janet proclaimed the day free of mishaps. Virtually true!

The way to San Jose

The family is on the road again. I'm typing this in the lobby of a Comfort Suites in San Jose, California. Janet got a grant to go to a Library Conference, and the rest of us paid our way to accompany her.

We didn't bring our laptop; I'm typing this on a guest computer. So it may be the only post of the whole trip, unless we run into more guest computers.

I probably won't be posting any pictures, even after we get back, because (keep track of the goofs, now), I forgot the camera at home.

I also forgot my cell phone in the car, back at the Baltimore Airport. But Janet has hers and Ethan has his, so we'll be okay.

Continental Airlines earns recognitions for leaving us waiting before takeoff about thirty minutes. That's ironic, since this was the first flight for Ethan and Emmett, and I've NEVER had a flight delay that long. On the other hand, that gave time for their nerves to settle. After just sitting for a long time, it's no longer "Whoa, we're gonna fly; I don't know if I'll survive," it's "Let's just get going already."

Contintental Airlines again: I couldn't pin down (pun intended) whether the airline gives out First Flyer pins. I asked for them for the boys. The flight attendant on the first flight (nicely) said he didn't have time. The employee inside the terminal said, "Sure! If I can find them!" But she couldn't. She sent me to a Customer Service desk, where they said they didn't have any such pins. Same story at another desk. What the heck, I'll keep asking, and if I strike out, I'll write to Continental and see what they say.

The flights went well. Plural, because we had a couple-hour layover in Newark. The six-hour flight to San Jose was nice. Roomy plane, many empty seats so we could spread out, clean. We watched "Casino Royale" and "Happy Feet." The latter had its moments, but the story is kind of jumbled, and I can't see how it won the Oscar rather than "Cars."

The goof of the day goes to Rainbox Taxi in San Jose, who kept us waiting at the airport about half an hour for a four-minute cab ride. The Comfort Suites has a nice service where they pay for a cab ride from the airport, and the dispatcher was very pleasant (sounded JUST like Michael Clarke Duncan--is that the right name? from "Green Mile"?)--but he sent out a new driver who simply could not find the cab stand. There were a lot of cell calls (to Janet's phone) involved here.

Nice room. Good sleep. Here we go.

Vanishing act

The scene: Afternoon at Longer Elementary School.
The situation: Emmett had to go to the bathroom.
The action: He asked permission.
The result: Ms. Brill granted it.
What happened next: In the bathroom, Emmett remembered that he was due at cello lesson.
So: He went (bathroomically speaking).
Then: He went (straight to cello lesson).
After which: Emmett was called to the office.
Who was there: Ms. Brill.
Emmett explained: Where he went!

The moral of the story: Emmett, Ya Goof!

Generosity. With holes?

Some Dunkin Donuts appeared at work on Wednesday. At the end of the day, there were still three in the box. At the end of my day, the box was in my van.

But I forgot to bring it in, and I didn't discover that until Thursday afternoon. But hey, temperatures are freezing these days. So they were preserved, right.

In the evening, I was on my way to pick up Emmett from a rehearsal at the Junior High play (of the Elementary play—confusing, I know) and passed the YMCA. Something possessed me—kindness? whimsy? need of a blogging topic?—to stop and offer the doughnuts to my friend who works the front desk, Sam(antha).

"Want some free doughnuts, Sammy?"

"From where?"

"From work," I said. "I got them today." By today, of course, I meant yesterday. But I made up for that with a forthcoming comment. "They're not exactly super-fresh, but hey."

"Well, uh, thanks."

I have to imagine that the doughnuts made their way between the jaws of the teenage boys hanging around in the lobby. They had made their interest known when they spotted my orange-and-maroon offering with exclamations of "Oooooooh."

But say that Sam did munch one. And it was stale.

Do I net out positive because of the surprise? Or net negative because I had (sort of) presented her with pastries on the slippery slope to being trash?

How do I get myself into these situations, anyway?

Keith, Ya Goof!

The doctor won't see you now

Janet and the boys likes to sleep in when they can. Yesterday, Presidents' Day, was a perfect opportunity for that—no school and the Library was closed—EXCEPT the boys had doctors' appointments at 8:30. So they all got up by 7:30 and were out the door by 8:00.

My phone rang at 9:45. It was Ethan.

"How did the doctor appointments go?" I said.

"They're not until next Monday."

Ooooooh, bummer. Thankfully, it wasn't me who put the appointment in the calendar.

Janet, Ya Goof!

1002 ways to goof up (continued)

580. Drive too fast on snow and slide as you brake.
579. Take one pair of shoes off because you've got to put on boots, but then absent-mindedly put the shoes back on.
578. Pick a fight with your spouse on Valentine's Day.
577. Absent-mindedly wear your best piece of red clothing on February 13.
576. Start a diet on Super Bowl Sunday.
575. Buy the wrong size ink cartridge.

Say it ain't soap.

Am I such a bad guy if one of the kids who sometimes comes over to our house on Sunday afternoon gets under my skin?

Well, sort of. He invites Emmett over a lot, which makes for quiet Sunday afternoons.

But you parents out there know how it is with some kids. They just make you—grrrrrrr. But when your kid is at his house a lot, ya gotta have him over some of the time. Keep a kind of balance.

Yesterday struck me as a good day to have this kid over, because we were all planning to go to a dog show in the next town over. That would eat up some time.

But not enough. We left the show about 2:00. The time to hand the kid back over—the golden horizon in my mind—was 2:30.

We used another 20 minutes on a visit to an elderly member of our church who lives around the corner from this kid.

10 minutes to freedom.

But we couldn't just—you know, wait in the kid's driveway. That finish wouldn't be nearly elegant enough. So I set a plan in motion.

"Let's zip over to the Super Sheetz," I said. "I have a car wash coming."

I was talking about the showcase Sheetz store on 17th Street in Altoona, complete with restaurant seating, coffee bar and car wash. I explained that the day before, I had paid for a car wash through the gas pump and received a receipt with a code. I hadn't used the code right then because there turned out to be a long line at the wash.

When we got to the wash, there was a line again. But I had to have the wash sometime. I got into the line. I instantly regretted it when I multiplied the number of cars by the time of an average car wash. But by then, there was another car behind us.

One hour later, we rolled out nice and clean. After spending more quality time with the kid. We turned him over at 3:45. And it was ... All. My. Fault.

Keith, Ya Goof!

Take my wife ... aside while I take this question.

Let me have the attention of all the veteran and skilled husbands out there. What would you say in a situation like this?

Our church fellowship hall was used for a Valentine's Day party last night. The guests were special-needs adults, friends of a member of our congregation, a beautiful young lady with Down Syndrome. I had a wonderful time with them through dinner and a craft project. I took a minute to call Janet, who was working late, to come join us. She did, arriving for the end of the craft-making, and then we all sat down for bingo.

Cheryl, one of the party guests, apparently thought that Janet was a handicapped guest who had come late, but she also heard someone say that she was my wife. Janet was at my side when Cheryl tugged on my sleeve and asked, "What's the matter with your wife?"

I came up with one of the following answers. See whether you like any. Or maybe they'll all simply make you say: "Keith, Ya Goof!"

What's the matter with your wife?

a. Oh, where do I start?
b. Lots of things. Same as me. We're a perfect match.
c. We don't know. We haven't gotten the test results back yet.
d. Absolutely nothing. It's really irritating.

Cel-loooo-oooo. Where are you?

Ethan had a cello lesson tonight at the high school. When I dropped him off, he said that he'd be done at 7:20.

It's one of those nights when I'm tired (insert whiny voice here) and the last thing I wanted to do was drive down to the high school. Twice. But such is parenting.

I was at the high school right at 7:20. I even made sure of it by rolling the minutes on the dashboard clock back from 21 to 20. (It was a minute fast, anyway. Really.)

Then I sat. And sat. Until 7:35.

When Ethan came out, he said that the instructor had simply gone over. Okay, fine. So I pulled out.

A little way down the road, Ethan said, "Wait. I forgot my watch inside."

So there went another three or four minutes. Okay, so we're only talking about a little bit of time. But I'm tired.

Ethan, Ya Goof!

1002 ways to goof up (continued)

598. Get picked off base.
597. Order a rocket from Acme Products when you're all too familiar with their history of malfunctions.
596. Pee on an electric fence.
595. Use your mom's best scarf to dress up a snowman.
594. Use your dad's best tie to dress up a snowman.
593. Apply the frosting before toasting your struedel.
592. Say "I can't believe it's not butter" every time you taste (guess what).
591. Shovel snow into a spot that someone has just cleared of snow.
590. Paddle on the same side of a canoe as a fellow canoer, so you end up going in circles.
589. Exit your workplace on a wintry day, only to find that you left your gloves inside your snow-covered car.
588. Rather than take a minute to scrape your windshield, drive hunched over peering through the tiny stretch of glass.
587. Use the last of the bulk bottled water in the office, but leave the big container for someone else to change.
586. Buy fund-raising sandwiches at work, then forget them in the office fridge until it's far too late.
585. When you've got to change your shoes, try to pull your pants off OVER the shoes. It never works! You're living a lie!
584. Scrape one side of the mouth of your garage.
583. Leave a video in the hot sun to melt.
582. Accidentally block the store aisle with your shopping cart.
581. Forget that you were going to wait for a store clerk checking to see if that shirt is still in stock in that color.

Double or nothing (times two)

Ethan and Emmett have these nifty new ... let's call 'em wheeled floor chairs ... made for video gamers and dorm living ... that came from Target. They're just the right height for our old dog Muffy, who wears diapers and is finding it harder and harder to jump up on (regular) living room furniture for his morning (and noon) (and evening) snoozes.



When Ethan was taking these pictures, Muffy made himself comfortable stretching across both chairs but chose the floor over a single chair. Gotta love Ethan's comment: "For Muffy, it's double or nothing."

But when I came into the living room to see for myself, I found another little goof snoozing on the chairs.

1002 ways to goof up (continued)

606. Leave the heat up before going to sleep, so you wake up in the middle of the night too warm.
605. Appear on American Idol when you really, really, really should not.
604. Leave a book outside overnight.
603. Accidentally tear a page in a borrowed book.
602. Put a Netflix return in the envelope upside down, so the barcode doesn't appear in the envelope slot like it should.
601. Leave the oven on.
600. Char a bagel half that turned out to be too thick for your toaster.
599. Enflame a marshmallow.

Sofa, so good. Sorta.

As I type this, the family is watching TV. Smallville. (As posted elsewhere.)

Ethan is sitting in a low, wheeled fold-up chair from his room. Same for Emmett. Janet is sitting on the rocking chair that's usually on the back porch. I'm sitting in a chair that's usually out in the front hall. All of the usual seating is gone. Today it went out the double-hung window onto the front porch. Tomorrow, I'm having some new glass put in the one sash.

Don't worry, it was all by plan. Well, except for the broken glass.

We're having new living room furniture delivered on Saturday. Our old couch and love seat went to the Youth Group at the Methodist Church down the street. Ethan's a regular there.

The old furniture was too big to get out the front door. It originally came in through the front window. That's how we got it back out. But in the process, I cracked the glass in one sash. I tapped the frame a little too hard with the hammer. So tomorrow, I make a visit to the fine people at Ameraglass.

Keith, Ya Goof.