Who can make the bookstore fun?

First let me start this post by formally introducing you to The Hair. It's really growing on us, and I think that we've committed to it fully. When school starts, it cannot touch his collar (it doesn't), his eyebrows (it does) or his ears (it covers the top of them), so I think we'll adapt the length for school time. He has some swagger to him with this haircut.

Landen's less-than-pleased face is attributed to my demand for his face to point at the camera costing him a round of training the horse on Poptropica, a game website they used at their school last year.

Yesterday afternoon I took the boys to the bookstore, not-coincidentally at the same location not near our house at the same time that Governor Edwards would be signing books. You had to buy the book to get the autograph, not that I already have a copy, and the line was about fifty people long. With everybody visiting and taking pictures and getting an eighty-year-old man to sign your book, we would've waited two hours in line. Two hours for Landen's feet to hurt, for them not to be able to stand still, for them to occupy their time by bothering the shit out of each other and me having to constantly correct their behavior. Plus, I was not convinced that Landen would not walk up to the man and ask him what he ate in prison.



What we did was walk up to the press area, about fifteen feet from him. I did not tell the boys why we were going to that bookstore, so when we walked up, I asked them if they recognized that man. Landen said "not at all." Jake said "Is that the Governor?!" I told him it used to be, but it was the Governor whose picture was hanging on the wall in their dining room. Jake wanted to wait in line for a picture. He wanted to meet him. Landen wanted to go to Jason's deli. He declared this not before observing, in full earshot of his staff and the press, that he did not look like a man who went to jail. Told you.

We went upstairs so they could look down on him. EWE is a former governor, felon, humorist, savvy, charming political mastermind who can still charm a crowd and, apparently despite being in the twilight of his life, very young blonde women in their early thirties. That's his new fiancè on his right. 

I drew the heart because I adore him. I already have a picture,
but I am not above waiting hours in line to get a book signed
at his next event.

The boys on the second floor of Barnes and Noble watching
Governor Edwards greet his mass of fans.

My single friends should avert their eyes now, lest the read something they find offensive. On Saturday nights, we usually take the boys to dinner and then we make a family trip to SuperTarget. I have issued a decree that I will not be purchasing any more toys until Christmas. They start getting an allowance on August 1st, so they can buy their own. We remind the boys to bring their wallets full of birthday and First Communion money. Jake knew exactly what he was going to get - a Deluxe Clu (from the Tron movie). Landen is less decisive but usually spends most of his time considering several different Transformers options. It's adorable and hilarious to watch them choose a toy, and even more hilarity ensues at the checkout, as they hand over card after card with $4 balances remaining to pay off their $12 purchase. Landen asked me if I could give him a "two" because his toy was $12 and he only had cash and didn't want to break a five.

Today we got up and watched Deathly Hallows, Part 1  before going to pray at the altar of Harry Potter in IMAX 3-D. It was a tremendous movie, a deserving ending and Jake and I cried and cried. I could hear the sniffles of men around me. I think Corey was sorry we were sitting together, but I cared not. I deserved to have my feelings about Harry Potter. I cried from the depths of my soul about seven times. Jake got at least four. Landen made a sad face, but did not cry.

Jake wore his Horcrux locket and brought his Elder Wand.
Landen brought his apetite. Homeboy loves him some popcorn.

Sunday night is the only night of the week I don't have to fix quick dinners. Tonight I'm rocking Pat and Gina Neely's Buttermilk Oven-Fried Chicken. My kids keep telling me how much they love fried chicken, but I don't fry. I set the stovetop on fire frying chicken in Corey's apartment when I was eighteen, and I haven't attempted to fry chicken since! I'm also doing Ree Drummond's Potato Skins, which my kids may or may not eat and that's too damn bad. (Cook's [that's me] note: It says to coat the potatoes in oil before you bake them. The step before that is cooking bacon, which I do in the oven. I offer to you that if you are not overly concerned with your caloric intake, which you clearly are not if you are making these, take it one step further my coating the potatoes in your fresh bacon grease prior to baking. Trust.) There will also be broccoli, no recipe. Boil it, stop the cooking by giving it a bath in ice water, then toss it with olive oil and salt over low heat until warm again. For dessert, which I only make on Sundays? Martha Stewart's French Silk Pie. I've been promising the boys a homemade chocolate pie for a while now, and this is my favorite recipe. French silk = the thrill of an affair that will not get you divorced and will probably get a whole lot of chores out of your husband. I intend to try and get some out of mine.