Last week Scott and I participated in our first pinewood derby. We followed the age-old secret to success…(pull the wood block out of the box 1 month prior to the race and let it sit untouched for the next 3.5 weeks.) Three days before the race my panic level rose enough to get us into action. We borrowed a hand held coping saw from a neighbor and stared at it for a day before we found a fellow ward member who owns a small band-saw. Scott said he wanted his car to look like a torpedo. The blade on the saw moved more the bottom than the top and when I finished the cut I could tell by his face it was not what he had in mind. I assured him it would look better when we sanded it but even I was skeptical. In the end it actually turned out pretty good. We could not figure out what to use to weigh it down so, in the end we drilled a hole from the back and filled it with bb’s. We could not get it to weight (per Sara’s kitchen scale) so, we also crammed a short steal rod in the back. The care ended up being WAY overweight the day of the race so we drilled a small hole into the bb chamber and shook most of them out. We carefully put the wheels on only to discover that we could not get all four of them on the ground at the same time. I was just hoping his car wouldn’t lose every race. Scott designed it, including colors, to match his basketball jersey and school mascot.
The Sunday before the race Sara gave a fantastic talk on sacrifice. In the talk she shared a story she had found about a little boy who had had his father sabotage his pinewood derby car so a disabled boy could win a race. It was a great story, and timely before the ward pinewood derby. So Sara watched in horror, and I in shock, as Scott proceeded to win race after race. In the end he took a very close second. In retrospect, we dumbed our way into a great design. We ended up with a hollow car with all the weight in the back resting on the back two wheels. In the front there was only one wheel causing friction. Scott (and Brett) is already making plans for next year. I told Sara, we would not be able to repeat this year’s design genius. We also don’t know how many of the cars had been self-sabotaged as result of Sara’s talk.
Because of our various responsibilities we always end up with two cars at church. Unless I have to stay after for meetings Scott usually volunteers to ride home with me. It has become kind of our thing…a chance to ride home following the spiritual rejuvenation of our Sabbath meetings… Last week Scott pondered the eternities and asked this thought provoking gem… “Why does Superman need a secret identity?” (please feel free to sound off on the debate…) We spent the next 20 minutes debating it. Scott pretty much convinced me that it’s essentially unnecessary. “What’s wrong with just being Superman?” An excellent question. Scott finally reasoned that “if everyone knew he was superman then there would be…like 10 people waiting outside his house every morning wanting an autograph…It’s like Hanna Montana.” Yes he did…he compared Superman to Hanna Montana. Somewhere Superman was feeling like less of a man… I was glad Brett wasn’t in the car.
Superman wasn’t the only one to have his manhood called out this month... It has been nearly 18 months since my car was stolen and it is still a subject of fascination for the kids. It came up again at dinner recently. Midway through the conversation Brett said “I wish Dad was a superhero.” He then reasoned that if I were a superhero I could have prevented the car from being stolen or at least apprehended the criminal. I looked helplessly at Sara. He continued “Mr. Ken could have put on his army clothes and saved our car.” Mr. Ken lives across the street. He is a Marine and looks the part. I can’t compete with Mr. Ken. At this point Sara tried to come to my aid. She told Brett “Dad is a superhero.” Upon hearing this Brett jumped from his chair and yelled “So am I!!!” and started punching the air. I suggested we all go watch Hanna Montana…
Brett’s latest fascination is with army men. For Christmas he got camouflage pajamas that he’d wear 24-7 if Sara let him. For his birthday he got a tank, an airplane, army men, etc. Kate is actually his best playmate when it comes to the army men. Last week they came to me because they could not get the cockpit to the airplane closed with an army man and two Polly Pocket dolls inside. Kate said they needed to get the door closed because they were taking the A-1 Warthog “(Tank Killer) to a “fancy restaurant”. I helped cram the soldier, dolls and accessories into the aircraft and they went back downstairs. From the sound of it, they were taking heavy fire on their way to dinner.
Sundays can be difficult when you are 5 years old. Sitting on a chair is the most common form of punishment at our house and, when you’re 5, Sacrament meeting is essentially an hour and 15 minutes of sitting on a chair. Most Saturday nights, the anticipation is enough to send Brett into a moaning state of depression. Recently, during the opening hymn of sacrament meeting, Brett came pushed his way down the pew, gave Sara and me a hug and said goodbye. I explained to him that this was the opening hymn and that we still had a ways to go. He told me he knew, but that he was getting his goodbyes done know so he could get out of the meeting that much faster when it ended.
In December Brett had to go in to get a cavity worked on. Since then he has been almost obsessive-compulsive about flossing. He won’t let us forget…or get lazy. Speaking of teeth… Last month Kate gave a great talk in primary. During the talk another mom leaned over to Sara and said “Who’s daughter is that?...The cute one with no teeth?” And last week we had a Hockey game on while the kids and I were wrestling. Brett stopped and exclaimed “Look, he’s missing the same tooth as me?”
Brett snores enough that we are thinking about mentioning it to the doctor. Recently it has gotten bad enough that Scott complains about not being able to get to sleep at night so he’ll come ask me to roll Brett onto his side so he can get to sleep. Last night we were driving home from visiting some friends when Brett told his mom “All my buggers are gone and now I can smell out bof’ my noses.”
Scott is playing basketball and having a good experience with it much to our relief. Brett wants to play so bad he can hardly contain himself each week during the game. Kate has discovered cheerleading and, if she has her way, may never play a competitive sport again…
Next week after church I’m going to ask Scott who would win a swimming race between Superman and Aqua-man…
The Sunday before the race Sara gave a fantastic talk on sacrifice. In the talk she shared a story she had found about a little boy who had had his father sabotage his pinewood derby car so a disabled boy could win a race. It was a great story, and timely before the ward pinewood derby. So Sara watched in horror, and I in shock, as Scott proceeded to win race after race. In the end he took a very close second. In retrospect, we dumbed our way into a great design. We ended up with a hollow car with all the weight in the back resting on the back two wheels. In the front there was only one wheel causing friction. Scott (and Brett) is already making plans for next year. I told Sara, we would not be able to repeat this year’s design genius. We also don’t know how many of the cars had been self-sabotaged as result of Sara’s talk.
Because of our various responsibilities we always end up with two cars at church. Unless I have to stay after for meetings Scott usually volunteers to ride home with me. It has become kind of our thing…a chance to ride home following the spiritual rejuvenation of our Sabbath meetings… Last week Scott pondered the eternities and asked this thought provoking gem… “Why does Superman need a secret identity?” (please feel free to sound off on the debate…) We spent the next 20 minutes debating it. Scott pretty much convinced me that it’s essentially unnecessary. “What’s wrong with just being Superman?” An excellent question. Scott finally reasoned that “if everyone knew he was superman then there would be…like 10 people waiting outside his house every morning wanting an autograph…It’s like Hanna Montana.” Yes he did…he compared Superman to Hanna Montana. Somewhere Superman was feeling like less of a man… I was glad Brett wasn’t in the car.
Superman wasn’t the only one to have his manhood called out this month... It has been nearly 18 months since my car was stolen and it is still a subject of fascination for the kids. It came up again at dinner recently. Midway through the conversation Brett said “I wish Dad was a superhero.” He then reasoned that if I were a superhero I could have prevented the car from being stolen or at least apprehended the criminal. I looked helplessly at Sara. He continued “Mr. Ken could have put on his army clothes and saved our car.” Mr. Ken lives across the street. He is a Marine and looks the part. I can’t compete with Mr. Ken. At this point Sara tried to come to my aid. She told Brett “Dad is a superhero.” Upon hearing this Brett jumped from his chair and yelled “So am I!!!” and started punching the air. I suggested we all go watch Hanna Montana…
Brett’s latest fascination is with army men. For Christmas he got camouflage pajamas that he’d wear 24-7 if Sara let him. For his birthday he got a tank, an airplane, army men, etc. Kate is actually his best playmate when it comes to the army men. Last week they came to me because they could not get the cockpit to the airplane closed with an army man and two Polly Pocket dolls inside. Kate said they needed to get the door closed because they were taking the A-1 Warthog “(Tank Killer) to a “fancy restaurant”. I helped cram the soldier, dolls and accessories into the aircraft and they went back downstairs. From the sound of it, they were taking heavy fire on their way to dinner.
Sundays can be difficult when you are 5 years old. Sitting on a chair is the most common form of punishment at our house and, when you’re 5, Sacrament meeting is essentially an hour and 15 minutes of sitting on a chair. Most Saturday nights, the anticipation is enough to send Brett into a moaning state of depression. Recently, during the opening hymn of sacrament meeting, Brett came pushed his way down the pew, gave Sara and me a hug and said goodbye. I explained to him that this was the opening hymn and that we still had a ways to go. He told me he knew, but that he was getting his goodbyes done know so he could get out of the meeting that much faster when it ended.
In December Brett had to go in to get a cavity worked on. Since then he has been almost obsessive-compulsive about flossing. He won’t let us forget…or get lazy. Speaking of teeth… Last month Kate gave a great talk in primary. During the talk another mom leaned over to Sara and said “Who’s daughter is that?...The cute one with no teeth?” And last week we had a Hockey game on while the kids and I were wrestling. Brett stopped and exclaimed “Look, he’s missing the same tooth as me?”
Brett snores enough that we are thinking about mentioning it to the doctor. Recently it has gotten bad enough that Scott complains about not being able to get to sleep at night so he’ll come ask me to roll Brett onto his side so he can get to sleep. Last night we were driving home from visiting some friends when Brett told his mom “All my buggers are gone and now I can smell out bof’ my noses.”
Scott is playing basketball and having a good experience with it much to our relief. Brett wants to play so bad he can hardly contain himself each week during the game. Kate has discovered cheerleading and, if she has her way, may never play a competitive sport again…
Next week after church I’m going to ask Scott who would win a swimming race between Superman and Aqua-man…
3 comments:
What a great newsletter! Thanks for sharing! :) It sure makes me miss you and your cute family!
So fun to catch up on your fam through this post. I was cracking up at all the happenings. When did the car get stolen? Was it at your house? Scary, we know how that feels. ;)
Ok Ben, I LOVE this post. Can't stop laughing about some of Brett's comments . . . I wish you were a superhero too. And could you please come and shove Steve and I and all our superhero friends into the car so we can go out to dinner? You have a great way of capturing all of the fun for the rest of us.
When are we going to get together? We miss you guys!
We need to watch Jimmer and the Fredettes sometime!
Heidi
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