The Sunday Funnies

Yesterday, our family spent most of the day at a swim meet. All three of the kids swam in it, and each of them improved their times in most of their events.

Successful swim meets involve lots of fun snacks, heavy duty sunscreen have you seen the fair skin on my kiddies? and plenty of liquid.

○ Snacks? Check. {bagels with cream cheese, crackers, sunflower seeds, and chex mix}

○Liquid? Check. {Gatorade, Diet Coke and Agua}

○Sunscreen? Oops! No check.

Being that this was our first outdoor swim meet of the year--and I am used to the indoor meets--I neglected to apply {or even bring} sunscreen.

El Jefe came to the rescue--and paid top dollar for a small tube of creamy, white sunscreen.

I slathered those fair-skinned kids of mine up like there was no tomorrow.

Shortly after the slathering, Savvy was talking to one of her coaches. He gave her his advice for her
upcoming race, and then told her she needed to
rub in the sunscreen on her leg.

"But, I didn't put sunscreen on my legs," she said, as she started rubbing it in.

Then she smelled her hand.

"Ewwww! This isn't sunscreen! It's cream cheese!"
she yelled.

Sheesh!

{A quick dip into the pool
remedied the issue.}

A Wednesday Funny

On Friday, our family was able to go to the conference center and watch Jay participate in a youth temple celebration--in honor of our new Draper Temple being built.

This was a once in a lifetime experience for her and we were so excited she had the chance to participate (even if our seats were way up in the balcony).

Just before the program began, President Monson entered the room with President Eyring and other general authorities.

The thousands of people who filled the conference center stood to show our respect and love for him.

I had a tear in my eye as I watched the prophet enter the enormous room and give a little wave.

And then I looked at Auzy who had his
hand over his heart.

In all seriousness, he whispered to me,
"Are we going to say the
pledge of allegiance now?"

Great minds...

Disclaimer: It's important to understand that I spent an hour this afternoon running/walking in the Jogapalooza at my kids school today...so I was a little distracted, hot, tired, dehydrated, loopy...you get the point.

On the way home from work today, I debated on whether I should call my sweet, sissy first...or check my messages at my house.

I decided to call my sissy.

It rang and rang and went to her voicemail.

Thinking I must have called my voicemail by mistake {I mean, where would she be in my time of need?}, I pressed the number necessary to check my messages.

The operator said, "Invalid entry."

Still thinking I was calling my own voicemail, I hit a different button {my cell phone and home phone use two different numbers to get to the voicemail menu--but sometimes I mix up the two}.

This time it worked and the operator asked me for my password--which I entered.

And the messages began to play.

The first was a message from a grandma whose voice I didn't recognize. She sang the cutest song in my ear, "Where oh where have my grandchildren gone, oh where oh where can they be...?"

Just as I was about to hang up out of confuzzlement...a message from my mom came on. "Where are you? Call me on my cell," she said.

I figured it must be the right voicemail and the poor ole' grandma got confused on who she was calling.

The message that finally clued me in that I had spent way too much time in the sun today said, "Jill...I just wanted to let you know what a cute and reverent little boy Cole was on Sunday in primary. He answered all the questions and was such a good boy. Tell him that Sister Jones sure was proud of him."

First of all, how sweet is that primary teacher to call and brag on my cute nephew?

Second, what are the odds that my sis and I have the same password to our voicemail?

And third, should I tell my sis about this incident--or continue listening to her cute messages?

Parental Responsiblity? Hah!

As a responsible parent, there are certain expectations you should live up to when interacting with your children.

Not making jokes during scripture reading would be one of those expectations.

Last night, as we read the scriptures, I failed that particular parental responsibility test. But, don't worry...I was punished beyond measure.

Savvy was in the midst of reading Alma 62:14--which says, "And it came to pass that Moroni and Pahoran, leaving a large body of men in the land of Zarahemla, took their march with a large body of men towards the land of Nephihah, being determined to overthrow the Lamanites in that city."

Right after she read the word Nephihah--I sang, "Hah!" It was out before I could stop myself. It was also out much louder than I intended.

I did not realize my kids would start laughing so hard that the reading would stop for a minute or two.

I did not realize that when I tried to pass the buck to my eldest daughter by saying, "Sheesh! Jay! Be respectful during scripture reading!" That nobody would believe it was Jay that did it--and everyone would say, "It was MOM!"

I did not realize that for the rest of the chapter every time Nephihah was read all three of the chillin's would sing a very loud "HAH!"

To illustrate my crime and punishment:

Verse 18 read, "And it came to pass that when they had sent them away they pursued their march towards the land of Nephihah."

Children in Unison, "HAH!"

Verse 18 continued, "And it came to pass that when they had come to the city of Nephihah..."

Children in Unison, "HAH!"

El Jefe looked at me and said, "Nice one."

Verse 18 continued, "...they did pitch their tents in the plains of Nephihah..."

Children in Unison, "HAH!"

Verse 18 continued, "...which is near the city of Nephihah."

Children in Unison, "HAH!"

But, the most important thing I did not realize?

That there were 52 verses of scripture in this chapter.

Let's just say there was a plenty of Nephihahahing to be had.

So, what irresponsible things have you been teaching your kids lately?
{Perfect parents need not reply.}

Fudge So Good, it'll Send You to the Hospital

A few weeks ago, Petal called and asked if she could borrow some heavy whipping cream. She was making fudge and needed a whole pint of cream instead of just a half pint.

I revealed my deepest, darkest, cooking secret that not only did I NOT have heavy whipping cream....but that I had never purchased whipping cream in my life!

Yes, folks...it's true. Cool whip is all this pretender knows.

Gasp!

I did have quite a genius idea to help Petal in her time need. I have a glorious page in one of my recipe books called "Substitutions for Ingredients". I found the whipping cream substitutions--and gave her the answer to her problem. It involved a little milk and LOTS of butter.

The next day, Petal brought me over a plate of the most delicious fudge I have ever eaten in my life. The secret to her success? Symphony bars.

I ♥ Symphony Bars!

She told me it was so easy to make...but when she started telling me about just cooking it to soft ball stage--I started to hear "blah blah blah". It seemed way over my head.

A couple of weeks later, I started craving Petal's Symphony Fudge something fierce. It seemed kind of rude to call her and ask her to make me some.

So, I got a bee in my bonnet and decided that I should give making the fudge a try. Plus, I needed to bring a snickadee to my brother's birthday celebration...two birds with one stone you see?

As long as I'm confessing...here's another one of my dirty little cooking secrets. I have never made fudge or any other type of candy in my life.

As a matter of fact, I don't even own a candy thermometer. But, in spite of my skill lackage, I got out the ingredients (yes--whipping cream too!) and started the making of the fudge.

Do you know I had to call Petal 3 times in 5 minutes to ask her questions? The fourth time I called her, she took pity on me and ran over to help.

She tutored me in finding the soft ball stage in a cold cup of water. She broke up my Symphony bars into pieces so they could be added in. She stirred whilst I sprayed my pan with Pam.

When we poured it into the pan she told me it was the best looking fudge she had ever seen {she failed to mention it may also be lethal}.

I told her she was my cooking mentor. She told me that the next week we were going to make cream puffs of course this was before the onset of the curse of the GB.

Without further ado...here's the recipe.

Yumma!

Symphony Fudge Delight
{a.k.a Rescue 911 Fudge, a.k.a. Killer Fudge, a.k.a. Widowmaker Fudge, a.k.a. Lethal Weapon Fudge, a.k.a. Not Your Dr.'s Fudge}

4 c. sugar
1 pt. whipping cream
2 large Symphony toffee/almond bars (16 oz.)
2 sticks butter

Directions:

In large pot mix the sugar and cream. Stir well and bring to a boil.
While boiling add two sticks of softened butter. Do not touch the sides or bottom of pan while stirring in the butter.

Boil to the soft-ball stage (230 degrees).
Add Symphony bars and stir until melted (be sure to break up the Symphony bars into large pieces before adding them in).
Pour into a greased 9X13 pan and chill for 5-6 hours

**Disclaimer: Please consult your doctor before partaking of this fudge.

I ♥ Coldplay, Taylor Swift, and Jon Schmidt

One of my friends sent me the link to this
fabulous You Tube video!

I ♥ it much. Do you?

The Case of the GB Malfunction

For the past couple of weeks, I've reflected on what could've possibly set my gallbladder to its demise.

Clues:

It started the Tuesday after Women's Conference which by the way I haven't blogged about because I've been too busy focusing on my stinking GB!

It started the Tuesday after I started wearing Spanx which I haven't done since said GB was removed...stitches you know.

It started the Tuesday after I indulged {and indulged and indulged some more} in the most delectable home made fudge evah!
A fudgy sidenote: I made the most glorious "Symphony Fudge" recipe (which I received from my BFF, Petal). I decided to make said fudge to bring to my brother's birthday celebration on the Sunday after WC. It is soooo rich and there was soooo much food...that not much was eaten. I took it upon myself to not let that delicacy go to waste. "Waste not, want not," as they say. I'll post the recipe in due time.

Brilliant Deduction:

Tuesdays
+
Spanx
+
Fudgy Delight
+
WC Indulgences

a GB malfunction of ER proportions

{Of course, with that pesky GB out of the way...I can wear all the spanx I want, party at the WC all I want, and eat all the fudgy goodness my heart desires}