The kiddo inside

Everybody has an inner child. No matter how hard you try to stuff yours in, the kid eventually springs out, eager to jump, clap loudly, and spin kart wheels around you. My inner child usually manifests itself through my mispronunciations (oh yes, the "g" on my gnome and gnat is not a silent one!); my obsession with Play Doh (yes, I spent half an hour today fashioning braids, balloons, and who knows what else while the five-year-old diligently performed surgery, removing toilets, boogers, and all sorts of other ludicrous objects from the prone man's abdomen. "Operation," anyone?); handing out nicknames to people like it's something I'm paid to do (who does that?)...just to name a few.

Drew's inner child is friends with mine because we're nothing alike. In a good way. He's a puzzles & science man. While natural phenomenons amaze me, they tickle him silly. A reaction that occurs naturally will leave me stumped, but Drew will get very excited and launch into an explanation of why and how the said reaction is happening. I love my opposite man (and his goofy inner child ;)!

We got our usual box of ice cream from Uncle Steve and Aunt Mary this past Christmas. Drew found the bag of dry ice at the bottom and decided to have fun with it. If you dump the brick of dry ice into the sink and pour piping hot water over it, ka-bam! You get beautiful, flowing steam. We even held up Trixie so she could get a front seat view of the marvelous phenomenon. She was not impressed.

Not sure what I think of the cool, yet weirdly gross looking bumps. Lumps?