Saturday, April 23, 2011

Croquet and Eggs?

I'm not sure I see the connection between Michelle's two photos for today, but I've learned to just accept whenever Michelle's involved. Also, I have no pictures from today, so I will just have to go with these:

What we learn here is that Michelle wants everyone to think she's bad at croquet, but really...

"April 23. The story behind this one is fantastic. I've learned several things since being at home. 1. Driving our cars is an adventure in itself. Sometimes, these are good adventures (ie driving in my Dad's Porsche is a fun adventure). Other adventures are scary, and involve driving 20+ year old Swedish gems. Point in case: Lars. Now, some of you have met Sven. Sven is not the only Swede in our family, Lars is his younger, and feistier (oh, hello 5th gear that's not simply an electrical button) brother. Lars and I get along well, although his clutch is quite different from Sven's. Anyway, in his old age, Lars has apparently had some problems with his door. Namely, he is always locked on the driver's side. To open him requires 2 hands: one on the door latch, and one in the key opening it. The key has to be turned to the open position while simultaneously pulling on the door. That's to get in. To get out, the door lockey thingee has to be pulled up while the door is being opened. What does this have to do with croquet? Nothing. But the other thing does. Hold on; I just need a place to tell this story (although those of you who see me often will probably get it again. In person. With hand motions. And inflections. Some of you (Danielle. Brad. Kat) will get it several times. I'm sorry. Deal with it or stop being my friend). Okay. So today I had to drive to the eye doctor. My dad told me not to lock the door after I got out. The conversation went something like this: Dad: Don't lock the door; you'll need the key to get in the car. It takes two hands to open the door. Me: Okay. Jonathan: Why can't she lock the door? Dad: Because she needs the key to get in the door. If she loses the key, at least she can get in the other doors if they're unlocked. Jonathan: Well, if she loses the key she's in trouble either way. If all the other doors are locked she'll be locked out anyway. She's basically locked out either way, except in one situation she's more locked out. Dad: Yeah. Okay. So don't lock the doors. Second thing I've learned being at home 2. I am really bad at croquet. While playing, my ten year old cousin won, became poison, got killed as poison, started the game over behind me, passed me, went through the finish again, and become poison again, all before I finished my first time around. So here's the thing about croquet: After you finish, you become poison and try to hit people. Everyone else finished. And became poison. And started getting each other out. I was still put-putting around. I finally finished, and there were four poisons left. They started getting each other out. There were three of us. Then there were two. Then, it was Rick and me. My shot. Straight line. I hit him. That was my only good shot of the game. And yet, I won. Last one standing. That, my friends, is what I like to call strategy."

Transition...well, both of these pictures take place in Washington. And Michelle's in both of them. Although, there's a far lower chance she will hurt someone in this one.


"April 23. We decorate Easter eggs. In honor of Easter. But here's the thing about our family: we don't actually pick up the real eggs. The plastic ones contain candy and money (which increases in denomination as we age), so there's no point in filling our baskets with the real ones. The little kids used to get those ones, and us older ones would go for the fake, but now that there are no little kids, it's a free for all for the fake ones. Which leads to scenarios like this one: while playing basketball in August, a real egg is found under a piece of sports equipment. Or something like that. Sometimes the fake ones are found mid-year, which is a nice surprise. Our parents are really good at hiding the eggs, so for the last few years, we've returned the favor. By hiding eggs for them after our hunt. Usually these eggs contain things like whipped cream, pictures and coupons from the Easter newspaper, etc. It's fun seeing our parents (especially Mom and Aunt Susan) fighting over eggs they find. Only to open them to find whipped cream. Oh...this is the life."
-Michelle

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