Another rainy day meant inside play time for the boy and I on Sunday. We battled a Tyrannosaurus Rex, found froggies and wormies in the mud (a.k.a. the carpet), ran from a little blue monster, and even caught some “snakes” in a little bug catcher he has.

When I asked my son what food we should use to lure these snakes into the bug catcher he thought about it for a moment and then responded: snakes like mac and cheese.

I wonder if science has discovered this interesting factoid yet?

My son asked me why I had hair on my toes last night. After some chuckling we told him that everyone gets hairy as they get older. His look after learning this information can only be described as: what are you weirdos talking about.

This exchange reminds me of a story my mom loves to tell about me. She was trying to get me to eat some spinach before leaving the dinner table and she told me it would make me look like Popeye. At learning that the food I was eating would turn me into a squinty eyed, bulldog jawed, weirdo, suffering from gigantism of the forearms I screamed “I don’t want to look like Popeye.”

I can only imagine that my son probably thinks that within a couple of weeks he will look like a little hairy monster. Oh, the torture we put upon our children, ain’t it grand?

My wife and son have been away visiting family. I couldn’t join them because of some things I had to take care of at work. Knowing I would be missing them greatly I tried to stay busy this weekend by:

• Going to dinner with some old friends.
• Drinking some beers with some old friends.
• Playing some golf.
• Volunteering at a marathon (notice I didn’t say run a marathon).
• Hacking on my Tumblr blog.
• Going for a bike ride and stumbling on a mystery.
• Playing kickball in the park.
• Hanging out with my parents.
• And putting my son’s train set back together.

Thanks to all my friends who re-arranged schedules and spent time away from their busy lives to humor me this weekend.  The wife and son come home tomorrow. Cant wait!

Stopped and took some pictures of this abandonment near my neighborhood.

A weather vain on the roof of the play hour at my folk’s house.