hot & hot-hot...not the same

Learned something new yesterday.

I'd been reviewing videos to send in to LIVE with Regis and Kelly for the possible co-hosting gig next month. A two-minute video from the semifinalists is required, about long enough for me to say hello, laugh, snort, goodbye.

Sounds like a winner, eh? (By the way, you can vote here by clicking LIKE on LIVE with Regis and Kelly's facebook page and leaving a comment!)

While doing this, our 5-year-old blurted out, 'Hey Mom, will Selena Gomez be a granny when I'm old enough to marry?'

WHAT?

No, not a grandmother, but a young adult, I told him as I tried to explain the age difference Here's the rest of that conversation:

Me: She won't be a granny, but she will be an adult. A mom, perhaps. Like me. Why you asking?

Him: Cause I'm gonna marry her.

Me: Oh well, maybe not. She's a bit older, buddy.

Him: Yes, I am!

Me: Honey...she's about 15 years older or so.

Him: So what. She's hot.

Me: Hayden!

Him: No, she's hot-hot.

Me: What's the difference?

Him: Hot means pretty. Hot-hot is like your girlfriend.

Me: Well, let's be nicer and say she's pretty. That sounds better.

Him: No, she's hot.

Me: Pretty. Just say pretty.

Him: Okaaaaaaay...she's pretty hot.

LIVE with Regis & Kelly...huh?

We've all done this.

The phone rings while you're fast asleep, and rather than reveal that you were catching some z's, you pretend to be wide awake, fooling no one and instead sounding like a moron.

That was me around 2:30 yesterday afternoon.

All morning dj's take naps, to make up, somewhat, for the fact that our alarm clock annoyingly screeches us awake at ungodly hours. So as I curled up in the fetal position with my favorite purple socks covering my toes, which always get cold when I snooze, I heard the phone ring and found myself reaching for the cordless next to my bed.

Me: mmmpphhhello?

Caller: Hi, this is Megan calling from LIVE with Regis & Kelly.

I immediately sat up in bed, and heard about every other word as I tried to wake myself. She went on to say that I was one of the 100 semi-finalists in their Women of Radio Co-host with Regis search. She nicely rattled off some information that I'm assuming she wanted me to write down, but at that moment nothing registered. So I pretended to jot down a number, trying my best to not sound like an incoherent version of Paula Abdul.

Greg later asked me all kinds of details, which I couldn't answer. Yet, I did manage to get this information:

Producers of LIVE with Regis and Kelly need you to post a comment here on their facebook page, telling why I should be voted through to the Top 10.

Four winners will be selected from the Top 10 to make the trip to New York City. Should I be so lucky, I have vowed to my co-hosts to wear a t-shirt which reads, 'I Love Jim & Kevin.'

And that just may kill me.

Here's Johnnnnnny...

John Rich, well-known as half of the duo Big & Rich, not to mention his many hits in the world of song-writing, stopped by our Pickin' Parlor Friday. He was as personable as they come, sharing laughs and stories about his family and life as an artist. Here's what we learned:

John compares changing a diaper to working on a Nascar pit crew. He's quick. Mainly because 'I don't wanna get peed on.'

John says a typical day for him when he's not busy is picking some peppers from his garden and preparing a meal.

John dresses himself, and selects his own clothes, most of which have been custom-made.

No, John's 9-month old baby, Cash, does NOT sleep through the night.

John is heavily impressed with artists like Zac Brown, Dierks Bentley and Lee Brice.

John selected the bikini-clad women on his new album cover, saying casting that gig was 'a tough job.'

John's wife chooses to stay home, rather than hit the road with her hubby, and John proudly showed us pics of Cash on his cell phone. (He looks like Momma!)

And that's a wrap.

7 things observed at the neighborhood pool

The Justin Bieber-looking lifeguard spends more time looking at his six-pack than he does the swimmers. Good to know.

The guy with the lobster-red back either fell asleep on his stomach or was going for that before-and-after look.

No tv network will be featuring the fashionable swimwear anytime soon.

Goldfish crackers float.

The right stall in the women's restroom is the cleanest. Always.

The person who yells 'Marco' during Marco Polo totally peeks, then denies it.

A trip to the pool in late afternoon is a good excuse to get out of cooking dinner and have the hubby bring home a pizza.

birthday shopping gets interesting

Birthday shopping.

I usually enjoy this, especially if it's for my sisters or a friend. Not a difficult thing, and I love the wrapping just as much.

Shopping for Greg is a different story. I did just that last week, hoping to get him something special instead of the usual shirt or visor. So, I decided on a watch. Or a hubcap, as my brother-in-law calls it.

Thinking it shouldn't take too long, I grabbed the kids and headed to the store, the one where they offer you a beverage because those few steps from the parking lot to the door must have been grueling. I reminded my youngest to not touch the glass, even though jewelry cases are an invitation for handprints and noses. And then it happened. We were soon greeted by a lady, who in turn, was greeted by my 5-year-old:

Hayden: Hi, it's my Dad's birthday.

Lady: It is? Well, are you going to get him a cake?

Hayden: No. A watch.

Lady: What a nice idea!

Hayden: We just got back from Disney World.

Lady: That sounds like fun!

Hayden: And I know where boogers come from.

NOTE: We did NOT buy here.

a son's letter: snuggle-dipping through life

Dear Hayden,

Life has been challenging for you in recent months, so I'm writing this letter to file away and let you read when you are older.

Your father and I love watching you from afar, like when you're sleeping and your dad says, 'I've never seen a sweeter face.' By day, you are a bouncing spirit that melts my heart, and I admire your zest and the lens through which you see this ever-changing world. You grow bored with the ordinary, and I soak up your thoughts as you move from room to room, collecting various items to create your next character for imaginary play.

The stage is yours. Maybe a wrestler. Sometimes a karate guy. And always a baseball player.

You have no idea how I would love to trade places with you for one day, even one hour, to live life through an innocence that knows no boundaries and only wants to 'be.' A racing mind that believes everything is possible, even if it's growing dark and time for bed, a trait that will certainly bring you success in later years.

I watch you enter a room, scanning the people to anticipate the mood, as you bashfully smile when we lock eyes. It's my favorite smile in the world, the one where your lips don't part and just the corners turn up, the one you give both your dad and I each time we call your name, the one that make's life's worries disappear in that very moment.

It's my sunshine.

I have fond memories of our Tuesday and Thursday afternoons the past three months spent cuddling on the couch, moments you affectionately dubbed being 'snuggle-dippers,' a combination of snuggling and your favorite fruit snack from McDonalds. Those days were homeruns for me, as life stood still for you and I. Sort of our way of carving time out of the chaos.

You have many gifts, a memory I could only dream of, and a humor that keeps us all in stitches, including your older brother who giggles as you dance like McJagger in the middle of the bowling alley without a care of who may be watching. A carefree soul who knows no strangers, and has costumes already selected for the next three Halloweens.

I am proud of you, Hayden. And I will help you navigate the road ahead.

Love,

Mom (AKA 'Snuggle-dipper')

signs of summer

Flies in the house

Wet swimtrunks on the floor

Lightning bugs

Sleepy boys that aren't up before 9 am

Popsicles melting faster than kids eat them

Crocs piled by the door

Groceries consumed in days

Neighbor kids ringing the doorbell

Protests at bedtime

Protests that mention it's still daylight

The ice cream truck and mad-dashes for money

Faded sidewalk-chalk artwork

Groans over the mention of sunscreen

Dinner on the grill

And finally...

Wondering if its bad to sleep before the kids do!

need an extra keychain?

I'm not crazy.

I sometimes debate that statement, but I did begin to question whether I was losing it for a good five minutes yesterday. Here's the story.

Last week, I arrived home from work and eventually when Greg returned, he asked me, 'Since when did you love Fishers so much?' I had no idea what he was talking about. He pointed to the 'I LOVE FISHERS,' heart-shaped keychain on my keyring. Problem is, I didn't put it there. Not that I don't enjoy the nearby town of Fishers, but I wasn't even certain where the keychain came from.

Thinking maybe my oldest son put it there, I removed it and went on making dinner.

The following day I arrived home and realized two paper clips were attached to my keyring. Not sure how that happened, I thought. Still, it was possible they tangled with my keys when I dropped them at my desk early in the morning. I removed the paperclips and forgot about them.

Monday morning, I went to leave work and found two more paperclips on my keyring, but these were attached through a tiny packet of pepper. Not your typical keychain sold at Hallmark. On closer inspection, I noticed another keychain, a shark, with teeth that doubled as a bottle opener.

Am I losing what little sanity I possessed in the first place?

Obviously, someone was having some fun at my expense. I investigated and found it was our traffic guy, Darren, who couldn't keep a straight face. He'd been plotting his careful moves, attaching random keychains when I was occupied doing something else. He's the same guy who taped a fellow worker's phone to her receiver several days in a row. His next idea was a packet of mayonnaise for my keys.

Someone needs a hobby. :)