It's a man weekend

Buds

We had ourselves a little man weekend while the wife was away having another WWW weekend. The WWW stands for Weekend Without and I'll let your third grade imagination run wild with the last W but in essence it's an estrogen party. Us boys, we partied it up while the wife was away. Finally a weekend with no curfew, no one cutting you off too soon and no one cooking you a hot meal, tucking you into bed, or getting up in the middle of the night with your screaming child. Who needs that?! It was time to run around in your drawers, belch as much as you want and let the occasional flatulence loose without a hint of embarrassment. We were celebrating manhood.

Fashionistas

It started off with the boys getting dressed by themselves. There was no one here to tell them they needed to match or to pick clothes out for them. Whatever they wanted to wear was fine with me. Q chose a nice black ensemble. The highlight? An extra large Jack Daniels T-shirt. Oh, to be three again! Gavin, also went with the extra large T-shirt - these boys are a growing! but decided a giant pig was more his style, a pig playing golf. They're getting so mature. It almost brings a tear to your eye.

We stayed up too late, but mostly because it needs to be dark out to blow stuff up. Blowing stuff up during the day can be fun but to get that full explosive effect you really need the cover of darkness or at least dusk so we stayed up a little past our bed time. It started with sparklers but we quickly moved into tanks, bottle rockets and small mortars. Quinny wore his spiderman PJs in case things got out of control and we needed to be rescued. Plus his spidysense would be able to sense danger a wee bit ahead of time to thwart any potential forest fires. For full disclosure purposes there was a minor grass fire but we had plenty of water and it was quickly extinguished. What? We barely have a lawn anyway with the total lack of rain and the 100+ temps here in Tempe, Arizona.

Sunday morning it was raining. God knows we needed the rain, but when you start your day at 5:30 you plan, baby and Daddy didn't plan for it to rain so he was woefully unprepared to have the boys inside all morning. We were going to do a little park action, followed by walk down to the lake and then a little fishing. What we ended up with was candy for breakfast, a spitting contest that ended prematurely when Gavin spit his bah (pacifier) into the toilet (spittoon) and retrieved with lightning quickness only to reapply to his face. Please, everyone, a collective eeeeewwwwwe. Thank-you. That was followed by a trip to the mouthwash station and on to the dump for the bah to find its final resting place. RIP, bah.

The beginnings of a pyromaniac?

I then used reverse psychology to trick them into cleaning. Ya, cleaning's fun. Here you run the swiffer. You run the vacuum and daddy will supervise drinking his coffee. We actually stripped 3 beds, did 3 loads of laundry, vacuumed 4 rooms, two rugs and poorly swiffered the wood floors. C'mon Gavin, pull your weight! We found 4 bahs, buried one so we're plus three!

We followed that relatively successful activity up with something tamer - art projects. I know, I know many of you didn't think I had it in me but I can plan a decent art project as well as the next dude home alone with two kids under age 3 with little to no art training that scored a solid C, which is totally average, people, in school. We made rocket ships. That's right, rocket ships. We cut, pasted, painted and flew our sweet, sweet rocket ships. One might say they were out of this world. Believe it.

The basement...AWESOME!

This brought us up to about 9:30 am. I know, it doesn't seem possible, but trust me it is. Gavin has a solid attention span of roughly four minutes, unless he's breaking something, which is approximately 68% of the time, in which case that can fluctuate from 30 seconds to 10 minutes depending on how flexible the item he's bending into oblivion. Books have an especially short lifespan. Quinny is around 3 1/2 so his attention span is a solid 7 minutes making him much easier to entertain.

We then, thankfully, rediscovered the basement. Oh, Mr. Unfinished Basement and your endless possibilities. I blew up an old swimming pool. The one we have now is, I'll totally ballpark it, 672 times larger and doesn't take 2 days to blow up with 3 minor blackouts.  I was only unconscious for a couple of minutes. Right, 9:32 am, and we're in the basement. The pool, no not that one, the tiny one, try and stay with me, doubles as a bouncehouse. It's not super safe but we have excellent liability insurnace. It's one of the perks of having a mid-life career change. So we bounced in our psuedo-bounce-house for 6 minutes, built a tower out of legos, destroyed said tower, I'm racking my brain for what activity can we possibly do next when suddenly like Moses receiving the 10 commandments from Mount Sinai the clouds parted, the sun peaked through and can I get an AMEN!? we could go oustside again! Hallejulia! Finally, we can just chuck some life jackets on these kids, grab a brewski and float the day away. Man-weekend. It really was that awesome. I'm not sure if you've seen the Hangover but if you have I have a string of pictures just like that of the weekend and they are hilarious. If you haven't seen it, you probably shouldn't. It's a little too shocking for most of you. Don't even google it. Seriously, don't.

PS  No one pooped in the tub (Including this guy)

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