Grandpaul

So, Ed's dad swore to me possibly on the very day of Logan's birth that if I taught the kids to call him Grandpaul, he'd teach them to call me Ass Face (which isn't as mean-spirited as it sounds, since it stems from a line in Waiting for Guffman that made me laugh for approximately a half hour straight when I first heard it [Sidenote: I just watched that clip for the first time in forever, and it still gets me going. End sidenote.]). However, he never said anything about me teaching other people to call him that, which I now urge all of you to do. Especially since it fits perfectly into that thing I love which is smashing two words together into something new. Grandpa? Paul? COME ON! IT WRITES ITSELF!

Anyway, dear Grandpa was here for a visit this weekend which made my kids piss down both legs (copyright Char's kid) in anticipation. They did lots of fun stuff together like go to Park City and eat ice cream, visit the bird museum zoo ["These ones are live, Courtney"], and possibly some cow-tipping. Grandpa went home likely worn out and exhaustedly patting himself on the back for spacing his two boys 11 years apart instead of the 19 month grace period we ended up with. Having the kids so close together has its definite advantages (built-in best friends, for one), but they certainly can wear you out fast.

Chris and I met the boys, Ed, and Ed's dad for a birthday breakfast that morning. The boys were super excited to wish me a happy birthday, and they gave me a card in which they both signed their own names and made my cold, black heart melt to a puddle. This collection of men sang "Happy Birthday" to me twice, Logan and Declan grinning wide the entire time. After the second rendition before we left, Logan stood close to me and sang it once more softly in my ear and I think he's in the running for Sweetest Kid Ever. (But don't call him sweet, because he thinks that word can only describe girls.)