Canned Chicken, Haircuts, and Puncture Wounds

So I have been working on adding to my repertoire of domestic skills this week. My friend, Darlene showed me how to can chicken. Fry's had a killer sale so I bought 15 packs and started cutting and filling jars. It was a slimy, gross, stinky mess but was quite satisfying when I ended up with 12 quarts of chicken in my pantry. It is not pretty to look at in the jar, and does not taste quite the same as fresh chicken, but everyone scarfed it down without complaint when I used it to make enchiladas. I am happy to report that we are 72 hours removed and still have no signs of salmonella poisoning.

Front View

Back View
It costs me about 20 bucks to get the boys a haircut. I have watched stealthily and taken good notes the last couple haircuts and figured this was possibly within my skill set to do this myself. DB has enough wave in his hair that it is very forgiving. Jake not so much, but I proceeded boldly anyway. We own a set of clippers that Wes has used to trim what is left of his hair for the past seven years. The problem is that they have begun to function more like an Epilady than clippers lately. Wes uttered some words that I won't post on my "G" rated blog the last time I helped him cut his hair, as entire chunks were removed violently. So out of mercy for my boys, I invested in some new clippers. I don't want to brag, but their hair doesn't look half bad, for a beginner anyway. The true test will be on Monday to see if they get mocked and humiliated by their classmates.

The buttons on our computer chair fell off leaving protruding posts on the seat. Growing weary of the puncture wounds every time she sat down to our computer, Karla took pity on us and bought us a new chair. That was awesome enough, but it also came with a box, which Sophie adopted as her new home. (hours of entertainment) The boys saw how much fun she was having and decided to join in. Unfortunately, such tight living quarters lends itself to domestic disputes. More than once this week I have heard Sophie shout, "Boys...Get out of my house!!!"

And finally, speaking of buttons...Sophie has also been using her keen powers of observation to learn about the differences in how boys and girls use the potty. We had problems with her in the early stages of potty training trying to stand and take care of business. (It didn't go so well, but I guess those are the casualties of having two older brothers.) So the other night I sent the kids all to the potty before bed. Sophie came back and explained to me that, "Boys stand and hold their 'buttons' when they pee, girls just sit." Buttons? I decided to save the anatomy lesson for another day.