Musical tastes

It's been tough lately to find time to write. It's not like the kids haven't given me plenty to discuss. Caitlynn has entered "tween-hood" where she likes to shop at the mall with her friends (more on that in a later post) and spend lots of time in the bathroom. Then she asks me silly questions nearly everyday. The other day she asked, "How long have you been stapling stuff?" I know y'all were wondering the same thing. Since my school semester began, my printing and stapling has increased greatly and Caitlynn has taken notice.

Miles has been doing Miles-things. He spent the other evening watching Johnny Bravo. I hope he doesn't turn out to be like Johnny Bravo. Miles has also acquired a few more stuffed animals and asks Joe and I to play with him and his new found friends. Our dog, Pepper, likes the stuffed animals, too. She likes to tear them apart and watch Miles cry. Bad, Pepper. Bad dog.

Lately I've been catching Caitlynn laying in her bed listening to her iPod touch. She's loaded it with music. I drilled her not to long ago about what music she likes. She has pretty good tastes so far. She doesn't like U2 yet (Joe and I "heart" U2). Some day she will discover the greatness of some bands that her dad and I listen to. We like alternative music mostly. She'll follow suit someday, like when she gets to college and starts listening to college radio (if they still have cool college radio stations then).

For now, she really likes Lady Gaga, Michael Jackson, ABBA, Adele, Katy Perry, Taio Cruz, and Daniel Powter.  I had to look the last two musicians up on iTunes. Never heard of them. I guess that makes me a full-fledged mom if I don't know who all the young pop singers are. She likes Lady Gaga but not Madonna (OH NO! I love Madge), which seems kind of odd since Gaga is the new Madonna.

Anyway... Glee did a Michael Jackson episode. It was actually very good. I like Michael. Too bad he was a little (ok, very) strange and messed up. He made good music and gave us iconic music videos like Thriller. This aired back when MTV still showed videos all day long and everyone under the age of 22 watched MTV nearly every day.


So, Miss Caitlynn, I know you are reading this post. This video is for you. I'll download some MJ songs soon.








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Not It!

Joe and I have been playing a dangerous game. It's the "not it" game complete with finger on nose and even thumb on forehead to increased insurance. With a finger on your nose and a thumb on your forehead, you really are not it.


Dog wants out.

Not it!

Caitlynn needs help with homework.

Not it!

Miles needs a glass of milk.

Um... Not it!

It's gotten to the point where neither of us wants to do anything around the house. Help the kids? Ha. Not it. It's becoming a dangerous game and the kids are totally clueless. They wonder why we won't get off the sofa and why our fingers are on our noses. What's wrong with our parents? Daddy has his finger on his nose. That's just weird. 

I guess I'm a little worried about our game because I'm much slower at catching on than Joe. As soon as one of the kids (or the dog) come begging for help (Miles -- I need my butt wiped!), Joe immediately puts his finger on his nose. He's quick draw McGraw, that Joe. I'm a little jealous... I wanna be that quick because I usually get stuck wiping Miles butt, letting the dog out, or seeing what Caitlynn is complaining about. And it leads me to wonder why Miles can't wipe his own butt and why Caitlynn has so many issues lately (she's 10... that explains a lot, actually). The dog can't let herself out, although that would be nice.

Either this "not it" game needs to stop or I need to work on my speed. What kind of conditioning should I be doing to beat Joe at "not it?" I wonder... I'll watch the exercise channel to see if they have any moves I can do to improve my timing.

Because the option to stop playing just isn't there at this time. I mean, really, who wants to get up every 5 minutes to help Miles and Caitlynn? They can be demanding little turkeys.

Not it.



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Spelling Champ

Miles is learning how to spell all sorts of words in first grade. Words like "play," "hide," "mad" have made their way onto his spelling tests. But he's also learned to spell other words, too.

Bad words. Curse words. Swear words. You know which words I'm talking about. The ones I'm not supposed to say in front of the kids but I manage to blurt out in front of the kids, especially during times of duress, like while watching OSU lose to Michigan on Saturday. Friggin Buckeyes. Yeesh.

Anyway...back to Miles and bad words. He was very proud of his accomplishment and came downstairs one day exclaiming, "I know how to spell the S-word." And then he proved to Joe and I how smart he is. "It's spelled S-H-I-T." Great, Miles. I'm so proud of you. Can you use it in a sentence?

However, it isn't just the S-word he knows. Recently I said the A-word in front of Miles and he asked me, "Is that the word that is spelled A-S-S-H-O-L-E?" Sure is, buddy. 

How does he know how to spell these words? Are they on his spelling list? I admit to not always checking his work from school (bad, mama!) so maybe I'm missing the part where his teacher is preparing the kids for the real world. I wonder if she went over that during parent-teacher conferences. I'll ask Joe since he's the parent that attended those.

But I doubt Miles is learning how to spell bad words from his teacher. She's too nice for that. And I know he isn't learning how to spell from me. I stopped spelling out words a long time ago. Too time consuming. Joe and I have code words for certain things like ice cream and toys. Much easier than spelling it out. Plus, it seems to tax my brain too much. I've got chemistry and anatomy on the brain. Spelling comes last.

Until I find the source of Miles' new wisdom, I'm sure he'll continue to brag about spelling inappropriate words. I just hope he only spells them for Joe and I and not his teacher. That would be an awkward parent-teacher conference.

"I'm a little concerned about Miles. Where did he learn how spell the s-word?"
"Um. I thought you taught him. You are his teacher, right? It wasn't us, that's for sure. We're terrible spellers." 

I wonder if Joe and I would be sent to the principal's office?

Good thing he likes us.




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It's time to start the music...

I'm a Gen-Xer and I'm a fan of the Muppets. Welcome to the support group.

What is it about the Muppets that makes them so appealing? Is it the humor or that they are all a little weird? I'm weird. I have an odd sense of humor. Perhaps I'm a Muppet, too.

They have a new movie coming out this week and Caitlynn and Miles are incredibly excited to see Kermit and the Gang up on the screen. They love the Muppets as much as I do. Here are a few videos of the Muppets that the kids adore. Enjoy!

 
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Will I always be this silly?

As I was jumping around the other day, saying to the kids, "It's my brother, Mike who's getting married in July... not daddy's brother, Mike," a thought creeped into the back of my mind.

Will I be this silly when I'm 80 years old?

I sure hope so. I may not be jumping up and down at 80 years of age, for fear of breaking a hip, but I want to preserve this childish behavior.

Yeah, I'm pretty nutty around the house. I joke a lot... like telling Miles that "shoot" (the alternative word for shit) is worse than the "F" word. Of course, I back tracked and told him that it wasn't a bad word at all. But I didn't back track because it was the right thing to do. Nope. I was afraid I'd get caught misguiding my son. I don't need Miles using the "F" word at school because he thinks it's not as bad as the teacher (or Joe) says.

But I am a little on the insane side of things, especially when it comes to parenting. Sure, the kids drive me batty but I have to wonder if it's me that has instigated their actions. Like Miles smearing poo all over the bathroom and apartment when we were trying to potty train him. I can't help but think that it was my fault in some way. Where did the smearing poo come from? Did he think is was chocolate frosting for a cake? I bake cakes. I frost cakes with chocolate icing. Damn it! It's all my fault!

I wonder about my own grandmothers. Were they silly? I'm guessing they weren't. They both fit the perfect image of what a grandmother looks and acts like -- sweet, slow-moving, and a home with a candy dish that is always full. I can't see myself acting like a typical old grandmother when I'm old. I still have 45 years before I'm 80, so perhaps I need to tone down the silliness and start acting like an adult. I have to start practicing sometime. Maybe I need acting classes... not to be in a play but to get prepared for being an adult.

But wait. I like being the odd-ball around the house. The kids expect their mother to be a little off-kilter at times. They rarely take me seriously, except when they know I'm "mad as hell and I'm not gonna take it anymore." Then they get quiet and start blaming each other. Should I be worried that they easily give each other up, rather than stand together in solidarity? Maybe we need to watch more mobster movies to illustrate what happens when you rat people out, especially your family members. Or maybe I'm just that good of an interrogator. If that's the case, I need a job in law enforcement rather than focusing on the food system and dietetics.

At any rate, I plan to stay silly. So, yes, I will continue to slide across the kitchen floor on my way to the refrigerator and I will jump up and down in mocked joy over mundane things, like when Joe goes out to get the mail and comes back in with nothing but bills. Getting excited over getting our gas bill, even if it is fake excitement, makes paying that bill much easier to do.

Life is too short to act like an adult all the time.



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Miles's new talent

It's every parent's dream to have super-talented kids. Just look at Justin Bieber. I wish I was his mom. That way, my retirement would be funded.

However, instead of raising a Bieber or a Kardashian, my little boy, Miles has been showing off his most recent talent.

Arm pit farting.

Yep, out of all things Miles has learned this year at school, the most memorable is arm pit farting. He learned it from a friend and since then has not been able to stop. We hear arm pit farts while watching the news (followed by a giggle). We hear it in the car. He lets one rip while playing computer games. Heck, I swear I even heard it in my sleep. Perhaps that was just a bad dream or the dog. Who knows.

I asked Miles about his new talent. He was all the more willing to discuss it and share his secrets with the world. He says that to make the perfect arm pit fart, you have to practice. I'm sure that goes with almost anything you want to learn ... cooking, writing, picking your nose. Practice makes perfect. Currently, he's working on the correct cupping of his hand in the arm pit to produce the perfect fart sound. He practices this technique from the time he comes home from school to right before bedtime.

In some ways, he reminds me of a young Derek Jeter, who spent hours as a kid playing baseball and perfecting his game. This dedication Miles has to arm pit farting might just be his ticket to fame, fortune, and super models. Is there a World Series of Arm Pit Farting? I wonder...

As a mother, I want to nurture my kids' talents and encourage them to succeed. If Miles's biggest talent is arm pit farting, then I need to do all I can and support his dreams and aspirations. I certainly don't want to stand in his way of becoming a world class arm pit farter.

He's quite good.

But is he good enough?

Only time will tell.

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Meet Pepper

So, we added to the family. It was time. The kids need a dog. Or maybe, I need a dog. That's probably more accurate.

Say hello to Pepper, our 4-mth-old lab-mix puppy.

Taking care of a puppy is a lot like taking care of a 2-year-old. We constantly find ourselves saying to the dog (much of it sounds like us talking to Miles when he was 2):

• What do you have in your mouth?
• Don't eat that!
• Drop it!
• Stop!
• No!
• Settle down!
• What's that smell?
• What is that? It better not be poop.
• You poop outside. Not inside.
• Stop eating the cat's food!

I'm a little rusty when it comes to dogs. I haven't had one since I lived at home with my mom. Joe and I have been used to raising cats over the past 10 years. Compared to dogs, cats are easy. It's kind of like living with your grandmother. Cats don't care if you're around (or maybe they forgot you live there too),  they're litterbox trained, and they bother you when it is time to eat. And they bring you the occasional present, like a dead bird or a barely alive dragon fly.

However, Dexter the Cat is not entirely pleased with the addition of a 4-month-old puppy. I can tell by the way he sits in front of the TV, while we're trying to watch The Daily Show. He stares us down, probably thinking to himself, "I will get them back for this."

Sorry, Dex. Pepper is here to stay. You may want to sharpen your claws. 

So... here's Pepper, our energetic, playful pup. She's a handful but Joe's the stay-at-home parent. He gets the joy of training her and cleaning up poo.

Hey, Joe... the dog needs to go on a walk. Have fun with that. 








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Don't play with your food

I remember being told not to play with my food. Food is meant to be eaten, not used as toys. Of course, I was raised in the Casserole and Campbell Soup Era. It's hard to play with a casserole.

Nowadays, we are told to serve wholesome foods and get your kids to eat healthy. Tactics to achieve this include hiding veggies in the food or forcing kids to eat their greens. I'm not one to disguise food or force the kids to eat their veggies.

The next tactic to make dinner time fun, by using Zoo Pals plates. It leaves me wondering,  "How exactly do Zoo Pals make eating fun?"



We see this commercial every day and the song keeps playing in my head. As I'm going to sleep, I hear, "oink, oink, zoo pals..." Do these plates actually work with kids? Can kids really be that gullible? Mine aren't that dumb, are they?

I doubt my kids would be snookered into eating their veggies if I served them on the face of an animal. Well... they might be swayed if it broccoli was served on a plate with the face of Hannibal Lector or a Werewolf. If you don't eat your veggies, Hannibal will get you! (And yes, they've seen pictures of Hannibal... am I a bad parent?)

But then again,  that might cause nightmares and issues later on. They'll need counseling because they associate broccoli and other veggies with serial killers and monsters.

Maybe that's not a good idea.

I think I'll take a pass at Zoo Pals. Caitlynn is too old and Miles could care less. But, I still want them to enjoy eating meals at the table. I'll keep doing what I aways do and not sweat about veggies, kids, and meal time.

I have enough crap to worry about. Mainly how to get that damn Zoo Pals song out my head.














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Mom always liked you best!

Okokok... I admit it.

I have a favorite child.

I didn't realize I was playing favorites until it was Saturday afternoon and Joe and I were running errands in different parts of town. That meant we each had to take a child with us. We fought over who would take Caitlynn.

She's our favorite right now.

Why? It's mainly because she's easy to take to public places. She's beyond the crying and whining stage (and asking for gum in the store). She's well behaved and I don't have to worry about her throwing a tantrum because I'm not going to buy her a toy. She just gives me the silent treatment when she doesn't get her way. I can deal with that.

Don't get me wrong, I adore Miles, but sometimes... geez. He can get under my skin. It isn't that he's necessarily bad in the stores. The "throwing himself on the floor while screaming and crying" phase is over, but he constantly asks for stuff... toys, movies, gum, candy, etc. It gets tiring.

It wasn't too long ago when Caitlynn acted like Miles in public. She had her moments of scary-child-ness. These are the moments when non-parents make sure they have enough birth control in the cabinet and may be extra cautious -- like by taking the pill and using a condom. No kids for us! They are scary! I can't say I blame them.

But Caitlynn is growing up. She's learned how to behave and now Joe and I play rock-paper-scissors over who gets to take our daughter with us while running errands.

I'm hoping that over the next few years, Miles starts to mature and he can move into the favorite child spot. For now, however, I dread the moments when I have to take him to the grocery store.

I could drug him. That might make it easier.

But then I'd have to deal with glares from other parents, as they see a 6-year-old child laying in the cart with drool coming out of his mouth. What are you staring at? You've never seen a tranquilized child?

Yeah. Parenting is fun.





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Censorship

Joe and I have never been the censoring type of parents. Ever since Caitlynn was a baby, we have not censored any shows or movies. She was exposed to The Sopranos, Sex and the City, and many R-rated movies. When Miles came along, we started watching Dexter and other shows on HBO, complete with cursing, violence, and adult situations.

Why? Well... the kids really could care less about these shows and movies. They might be in the room but they rarely pay attention to what is happening on the screen.

But it wasn't until we started watching the evening news (both CBS and NBC nightly news casts... yes, we are news junkies) that I felt we needed to censor the programming. It wasn't because of the content of the news casts. It's because of the commercials.

Caitlynn, being an inquisitive 10-year-old, likes to watch the news with us. I'm guessing she has a crush on Brian Williams. He is quite handsome. But Caitlynn has definitely noticed commercials like this one:



It leaves her pondering out loud ... "Why are they in bathtubs?" Yeah, I'm wondering that, too. What's up with the bathtubs?

Not only am I faced with discussing the birds and the bees with Caitlynn, but I somehow have to discuss issues men may have as they get older. Obviously advertisers feel the primary demographic watching the news are Baby Boomers, not Gen-Xers or 10-yr-old kids. That's probably true, but I could do without any prescription drug ads. Not only is Caitlynn noticing Cialis commercials but she notices all drug commercials. She loves listening to the side effects and wonders why we need all these drugs in the first place.

Perhaps it time to start listing side effects for all products advertised on TV. It would make watching commercials a little more entertaining.

For instance, Oreos, America's favorite cookie, would have a list of side effects that sound like this: You may experience weight gain, black specks in your teeth, and intense feeling of thirstiness, especially for a large glass of milk.

Or for Budweiser beer... Consuming large quantities of beer may cause weight gain in the abdomen making it hard to see your lower half. Some users of beer have experienced periods of stumbling and slurring. Vomiting has occurred, especially after large amounts are consumed.

Or, better yet... if we advertised marijuana on TV. Side effects for smoking pot include uncontrollable giggling, consuming large quantities of Funyuns, and bloodshot eyes, making others wonder if you are a Stoner or a Vampire.

But for now, I'm faced with censoring Cialis (and Viagra) commercials or instead of censoring, I just ignore Caitlynn's questions. Huh? What? I don't understand you. Je ne parle pas Anglais. 

I'm just not ready to have that discussion yet.








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The 3rd Child

I can proudly say I am the parent (owner, master, supreme being) of a teenager.

Our cat, Dexter.

Dexter the Cat stays out late every night with his buddies. Each night when I let him in, I can't help but think that I'm raising a teenager. I'm coming close to grounding him for breaking curfew. But what should his curfew be? Joe thinks it should be 9:00, when our other children are getting ready for bed, but I'm the push-over and have been letting Dexter stay out until 12:30. Am I a bad mom?

Since we moved to a bigger home where Dex can run and play outside, I noticed he has made more friends in the neighborhood than Caitlynn and Miles. Every day, Dex heads outside to play after he eats breakfast. More often than not, I see at least one other cat hanging around our back porch, basking in the sun. A few times, this cat has come to our door looking for Dex, as if to say, "Can Dexter come out and play, Mrs. G?" And I find myself looking for Dexter... Hey! Your buddy is here!

What is wrong with me? He's a cat, right?

Perhaps this is giving me experience on how to raise a teenager. Before I know it, Caitlynn will be a teen, asking to hang out with her friends at the mall and going on dates with boys. I even discussed this with her, but I don't think she realizes what's in store as a teen, either. She shot a surprised look at me ... "I'll get to go to the mall by myself?!" Now, she's counting the days until she's in junior high when hanging out with friends outside of home and school is the cool thing to do.

For now, Dexter the Cat is my teenager -- cruising the neighborhood, flirting with girls, knocking down trashcans, and killing baby birds. If I start seeing bandanas or tattoos, I'll start to worry. Otherwise, I'll leave him alone. He's a good kid... cat. He's a good cat.








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These cannot be my kids

Caitlynn and Miles had to have been switched at birth. They are not my kids. No way. No how.

Sure, ok, they look like Joe and I. They have some of our mannerisms. They are cute and I see my family's good looks shining through. Heck, they are smart little boogers with smart-ass comebacks, much like me.

But according to their taste in music, I just don't see any resemblance. I'm raising a couple of fuddy-duddy's.

Case in point:

We got in our ultra-cool minivan last week turned up the satellite radio because Rage Against the Machine was on. Both Caitlynn and Miles started complaining:

"Turn it down! It's too loud!"

"You really like this music?"

"This music is bad."

"I don't like Rock and Roll."

"This is the music that makes you crazy when you're a teenager."

What?! Excuse me, but Rage Against the Machine is not "rock and roll." It's Rage. I has its own genre... called Rage and yes, it may make you a little crazy. Do I look crazy to you? Don't answer that. 

So, we changed the dial to the 80s station, where Duran Duran was playing. Immediately Joe and I started singing along to the radio and then we heard more complaints from the back seat about how bad the music was.

Fuddy-duddys.

It was only a few years ago that Miles thought the music on Dora the Explorer (or the Wonderpets) should have been nominated for a Grammy. And Caitlynn... well, she has a special affinity for Abba, especially from the Mamma Mia soundtrack.

Some day, they'll come around. It will be right at the point where I start complaining about their music.

"This music sucks!"

"You like this?"

"Duran Duran was so much better than this."  

And then I'll be called a fuddy-duddy and the kids will wonder if I'm really their mother.

Ah, the circle of life.










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Wait! What? We are actually good at this?

Joe and I did the unthinkable...

We asked Caitlynn if we were good parents. She said yes... we are good parents.

Whew! I was worried. Time to pour the champagne and kick the kids out for the night! We've got this parenting thing down! I knew I was awesome and this just confirms it. Same for Joe. I guess he's awesome, too.

We then decided to interrogate her on what makes us good parents mainly because we wanted to vary up our routine to have good parenting days and bad parenting days. I like doing social experiments involving my kids. However, Caitlynn didn't like that too much and didn't give us many examples of good parenting. Maybe strapping her down to a chair and shining a bright light in her face wasn't a good way to go. We probably should have done the "good mom, bad dad" routine to illicit a better response.

But basically, she says we're good parents because we don't hover. She likes her space and independence and we seem to give her plenty of that, even though the 2 of us are home nearly every day (working from home and going to school do have it's advantages).

I'd venture to guess that most kids don't want their parents to hover over them like bees swarming a garden of daisies. I know I don't like being micromanaged and I can see that same strong independence in Caitlynn and Miles.

With all of the anxiety we had last year about our parenting skills (Caitlynn had some issues that required a visit to the doctor), it's nice to know that we are actually good at this parenting thing, even if the confirmation is only coming from Caitlynn. It's too bad the doctor can't give us a certificate or diploma (something reading "Marcy and Joe have been awarded the Goodest Parent certificate") to hang on the wall to show off to anyone who comes to the door, like the UPS delivery guy or the guys replacing the siding on our townhome.

But maybe more parents should be like Joe and I and ask their children to assess the parenting skills, rather than relying on Today show segments and books about Tiger Mothers. Your kids will be honest. Maybe too honest, but that's the risk you take.

I'm sure you are all awesome parents, too. Just ask your kids.












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Catch Phrases

Miles needs a drawstring.

We all have phrases that we tend to repeat more often than not. Caitlynn has a couple -- "I'm bored" and "Can you give me money?" are her two most used phrases. I even have a couple, but they are usually peppered with some sort of expletive. I try to be good and not curse but... And it doesn't help that I'm reading a book right now called Holy Shit. It actually all about manure. I find it fascinating. Oh no! I'm letting my inner-nerd show! 

But Miles has many phrases. So many, in fact, he needs to have a drawstring in his back like Woody in the Toy Story movies. In case you forgot, Woody's catch phrases are "There's a snake in my boot!," "Reach for the sky!," and "You're my favorite deputy!"

So... I compiled a list of phrases used by Miles several times a day, even more so now that school is out for summer.

I'm hungry!
Mama!
I got poop!
I'm thirsty!
Gotta Pee!
Can you buy me something?

But to make these phrases a little more movie worthy, these sayings should be edited a bit:

"I'm hungry!" becomes "Feed me, Seymour!"
"Mama!" turns into "(Oh mama mia, mama mia) Mama mia, let me go" 
"I got poop!" actually should read "Ooops, I crapped my pants!"
"I'm thirsty!" morphs into "I drink, therefore I'm thirsty."
"Gotta Pee!" can be said as "Gotta go, gotta go, gotta go right now!"
"Can you buy me something?" sounds more like "Everybody be cool! This is a robbery!"

I don't think Miles will mind if I pull the string on his back. He seems pretty open to it.

Oh and you get a gold star for the day if you know where some of the phrases above come from. Well, maybe not the thirsty one... that one is mine, but the others are from other sources.










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Thank you notes

My mom always told me I should send out thank you notes for gifts and after job interviews. Yeah yeah... But what about thank you notes to family members, namely Caitlynn and Miles?

If I wanted to waste some paper, I could write these out longhand and mail them to the kids via the Pony Express. Instead, I'm sharing with everyone what the notes would say if I wasn't so dag-gone lazy about writing notes and too cheap to buy actual notecards for the kids.

• Thank you, Miles, for peeing all over the toilet seat. Sure felt great when I sat down. 
• Thank you, Caitlynn, for informing me that Ghostbuster's 3 is due out in the theatres next summer. Be sure to save your pennies for a ticket and start standing in line now. I'm sure it will be a big hit.
• Thank you, Miles, for letting me know that you want a disco-themed birthday party next year, complete with a disco-ball hanging from the ceiling. So, I'm guessing that Goth-themed party I originally had planned is out of the question?
• Thank you, Miles, for always informing us when you have to "go." Because I need to know about every #2 you take. I certainly hope you grow out of this by the time you reach puberty. 
• Thank you, Caitlynn, for waking me up at 3:00 in the morning. Who needs a good night's rest anyway. Apparently I don't.
• Thank you, both Miles and Caitlynn, for writing all over my papers for work and school. Crayon and markers are classy and are commonly used in offices all over the country.
• Thank you, Caitlynn for always turning to iCarly whenever you find the remote. If I have lines from the show memorized, that's a bad thing. 
• Thank you both for not killing each other in the car ride to Seattle. I actually mean that in all seriousness. 

Miles turned the tables on me today and thanked me for something. Here is a transcript of our exchange:

Miles: Thanks a lot, Mama, for giving me a cold! (yeah, I've been sick lately... not that bad, though)

Me: You are so welcome! Glad you are enjoying it!

Miles: That's not cool, Mama. 

So, be sure to thank your loved ones. They'll appreciate it.







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