First of all, might I suggest you make a Thankful Tree with your preschooler?
It took us about 15 minutes to make ours, mostly because I printed it out at Nickjr.com (because we are SLAVES TO CHILDREN'S PROGRAMMING MARKETING), and then had Dave help me cut out the leaves. Asher was excited that we were doing a project involving (a remarkably well-dressed for the season) Dora (seriously, a cardigan), and also that he was allowed to sit on the countertop to do it, so he was a willing participant for 95 percent of the time, until we got to the last one or two leaves. That's when he wandered into the living room to play with his flashlight. That stupid flashlight has provided HOURS of enjoyment, although I find it kind of odd that his idea of having fun with it is excavating dusty forgotten toys from underneath the sofa. Well, when he's not shining it directly into people's EYES. (Perhaps he has a future in archaeology.)
Anyway, we have had several talks over the last week or so about thankfulness and what it means to be thankful, and I tried to keep in mind during these talks that this is a three-year-old I'm explaining this concept to, a three-year-old who is petrified of blowing his nose and who only figured out the concept of sleeping under a blanket about two weeks ago, so I simply explained that things we're thankful for are usually the things that make us happy. So when we sat down to do the Thankful Tree, Asher had already been briefed and understood what I was asking and immediately started rattling off his list.
The first thing he announced he was thankful for? Asher. Yes, himself. NATURALLY. After that followed trains (DUH), and Dora, and Dada, and Mama, and Lucy, and then he pointed to the picture of Boots standing next to Dora at the bottom of the page and said, “That monkey.” OMG, people, this is a child who watches an episode of Dora EVERY SINGLE DAY and he can't for the life of him remember the name of that freaking monkey. But I wasn't about to change his wording, so That Monkey got his own leaf. Next up was “spinning.” Spinning! In circles! I mean, really! What's a life without spinning until you're so dizzy that you're threatening bodily harm by thwacking into something head first? I DON'T KNOW EITHER! He was also thankful for puzzles, and his grandparents, and the outside train we ride as much as we can every spring and summer.
Hilarious answers aside, it was really fun and rewarding to watch him think. Ok, and really REALLY fun and rewarding when he pulled some of that random stuff out his butt. (SPINNING! In CIRCLES!) Lucy has yet to try to rip it all down from the wall, which is a whole different kind of miracle, what with her general feelings on destruction, which are yes, please, and also that nothing is sacred.
But you're not here for heartwarming stories about my delicious children, are you? You want to know what the heck my father does with stink bugs that my mother saves for him in plastic bags.
HE FEEDS THEM TO A FROG.
Which wouldn't be so weird, if, as commenter beyond suggested, it was a pet frog. But it's not a pet frog, you guys, it's a frog that lives in a hole next to their driveway, and my dad waits for that frog to emerge at night and then he wanders outside with either the bag of collected bugs or some fresh ones he catches himself and he FEEDS THEM TO IT. My mom said one night they opened the front door and the frog was just sitting there, on the porch, WAITING. Waiting! For my dad to appear with a handful of insects! HOW WEIRD IS THAT?
Of course, it's not weird at all if you KNOW my dad, a man who used to routinely freak us out as children by letting various kinds of insects crawl around in his mouth and by picking up dog crap and throwing it at us in the backyard. With his bare hands, I might add. And some piles were... fresher than others, if you know what I mean. But perhaps he is most famous for the incident that occurred while driving me and a friend home from softball practice when I was in sixth grade. He slowed to a stop at a stop sign, opened the driver's side door, and picked up a dead squirrel from the road which he DANGLED IN FRONT OF MY FACE while he continued to drive and while I pressed myself against the passenger door and screamed in terror. When we got close to our house he tried to throw it clear of the car out of the sunroof but it just splatted onto the windshield and slid down, leaving a gruesome, bloody smear. When the car finally stopped inside the garage, I bolted and he picked it off the glass by the tail and chased me around the cul-de-sac with it. He tried to figure out a way to stick it to the garage door on the side of the garage my mom parked in, hoping for some magical moment wherein the door would lift up and the squirrel would hang from it and my mother would pass out from fright inside her Dodge Caravan but it never panned out and he ended up throwing it into the garbage can.
And then getting it out later that night and spreading it across my mom's car seat before she got in.
And then one more time to chase my brother down the basement stairs.
And THEN he threw it in the trash for good.
Huh. Yeah, so maybe the frog thing isn't such a big deal by comparison.
That is hysterical! Your Dad rocks. :)
Posted by: Amy | Monday, November 16, 2009 at 09:24 PM
Your child is the cutest child in the history of the world, the end. THAT MONKEY! SPINNING! OUTSIDE TRAIN. I love him.
Your dad, I also love but think I will keep my distance from.
Posted by: Swistle | Monday, November 16, 2009 at 09:28 PM
That Thankful Tree is cute!
Posted by: Amy --- Just A Titch | Monday, November 16, 2009 at 09:29 PM
Dude, a FRESH pile? Bare-handed? I...I...really?
Posted by: Danell | Monday, November 16, 2009 at 09:37 PM
I'm with Danell... dying laughing, but... bare-handed dog poo?
Posted by: natalie | Monday, November 16, 2009 at 09:54 PM
I am petrified of your father.
Posted by: whoorl | Monday, November 16, 2009 at 10:04 PM
Spinning! I love it! I think I shall do some spinning myself tomorrow.
My dad has a pet bug that comes to visit him in the hot tub every night for a drink of water. Or at least my dad thinks so. It has come back year after year and we've looked up the life span of that particular brand of bug and, um, NO.
Posted by: HereWeGoAJen | Monday, November 16, 2009 at 10:07 PM
I agree, your children are pretty much the cutest little people in the world.
But DORA. I don't know how you do it!
Posted by: barbetti | Monday, November 16, 2009 at 10:15 PM
See...the frog story was kind of cute and then...yick...the rest was just...yeah..ick.
Posted by: Tiah | Monday, November 16, 2009 at 11:32 PM
I just forced my husband to listen to the squirrel story which I read out loud while whinnying in hysterical laughter. Oh my god, that was funny.
Posted by: Sundry | Monday, November 16, 2009 at 11:38 PM
I'm going with horrifying, not funny at all. Poo and dead animals can make you sick if you touch them, in addition to being incredibly disgusting. That's some pretty messed up stuff.
Posted by: Cat | Tuesday, November 17, 2009 at 02:49 AM
The frog part is kind of sweet, though. Potentially.
Posted by: Cat | Tuesday, November 17, 2009 at 02:50 AM
That is too funny and horrible at the same time. I have been so incredibly elated after each of my three kids has passed the Dora stage. I HATE HER!! and THAT MONKEY
Posted by: Fran | Tuesday, November 17, 2009 at 07:44 AM
I'm so glad you survived your childhood so that we could enjoy the memories with you. Oh dear...
Posted by: Maggie | Tuesday, November 17, 2009 at 08:14 AM
Holy crap, your family sounds like mine. My great-grandfather and my idiot uncle once decided to give the cat an enema. (I guess he was constipated? How could they tell?) They caught the poor cat, shoved its head down in a rubber boot and proceeded to give it an enema. My great-grandpa was not the gentlest person in the world, so I can't even imagine what that poor kitty felt like. Anyway, they said once they were done, the cat kind of jumped down and spinned around in circles, boot still on its head, spraying liquid poop all over. Nice.
Posted by: Jen L. | Tuesday, November 17, 2009 at 08:45 AM
There are no words. I'm just laughing hysterically. Your dad is AWESOME.
Posted by: nonsoccermom | Tuesday, November 17, 2009 at 09:20 AM
I guess I should be THANKFUL that all my dad ever chased me with were earthworms. Shudder.
Posted by: heather | Tuesday, November 17, 2009 at 09:27 AM
I love the idea that he feeds stink bugs to the frog! Everything else....kinda freaks me out.
My father was notorious for bringing black snakes in the house & putting them in bed with my napping little brother. Excellent parenting skills from that guy, let me tell ya.
Posted by: Ambry | Tuesday, November 17, 2009 at 09:40 AM
Oh my gosh, that is absolutely hysterical. Your dad sounds like a riot :) God love your mom!
Posted by: Wiz | Tuesday, November 17, 2009 at 10:59 AM
i love that frog story! aawww. and i have to say that if the frog gets fed every night and sometimes sits there waiting (who know amphibians even had that much brain?), it is TOTALLY a PET. even if it doesn't live in the house or have a name. (it probably has a name, your dad just hasn't told you yet...)
Posted by: beyond | Tuesday, November 17, 2009 at 11:38 AM
My five year old is thankful for ketchup, bread, chicken and his nana. I was thankful at least one person made the list. It would be slightly frightening for him only to be thankful for food. Wow, your dad is weird.
Posted by: Shelly in Austin | Tuesday, November 17, 2009 at 11:51 AM
I was totally thinking that he must feed the bugs to an animal, but that it wouldn't be weird unless the animal lived outside. Too bad I didn't comment! Anyway, I think it is so amazing that the frog waits for his dinner. That is really cool.
And as far as the other stuff, besides from EEEEEWWWWWWW, my only thought was that he can get really sick, catch diseases, etc. from picking up that kind of stuff!
Posted by: Megan K | Tuesday, November 17, 2009 at 12:38 PM
OH MY GOD Emily, I suggested that your Dad is feeding the bugs to the frog(s) (in the pond) out back. So the Frog who lives in a hole next to their driveway is close enough.
Me & Your Dad= sharing a brain.
Posted by: chatty cricket | Tuesday, November 17, 2009 at 12:49 PM
BAHAHAHAHAHhahahahhhahahahaha! Your dad sounds HILARIOUS! I am laughing so hard I'm crying! Thank you for making my day!
Posted by: utaholics | Tuesday, November 17, 2009 at 02:02 PM
I have to add my ewww's....... for the poop. But the Frog story is great! Something my kids would totally do. They catch bugs and put them in spider webs to see what the spider will do.
Posted by: Brenda | Tuesday, November 17, 2009 at 02:24 PM