My boyfriend and I named our son Sawyer Hendrix, his first name is his paternal great grandmother's last name and, of course, Hendrix is after Jimi Hendrix. Starting on the car ride home from the hospital (and during every car ride since) if my iPod shuffles to a Jimi Hendrix song he will begin crying. He has even awoken from a dead sleep and began crying if Purple Haze or Fire begins playing. He hates the music of the man he is named after. The only song he really seems to enjoy is Ella Fitzgerald's Summertime. I am getting so sick of that song.
My Daughter has a heart of gold but sometimes she is not the sharpest pencil in the box. One day this girl she knows came by with her dog and begged Kristy to watch him till she got her own place at the end of the week. Feeling sorry for her, Kristy couldn't say no. The next morning the dog had to go out, Kristy opens the door and lets him out, then went back to bed. I woke her up and asked where the dog was, she had forgot about him. He was gone because we don't have a fenced yard. She went to look for him was gone a while then returned and told me she saw a dog but wasn't sure if it was him and didn't want to bring the wrong dog home. I questioned her, what you mean the wrong dog? Her reply was, she had forgot what the dog looked like. I asked what are you going to do? Her reply was "Oh well, I don't like dogs anyway." The dog had returned back to the house where he was from and everything turned out okay.
There was a large reunion for my family down in San Francisco, CA a few years back. We road-tripped down and stayed with my cousins for a week. One of the days we were there, my mom thought it would be a great idea to take us all to Disneyland. We went with a couple other cousins our age.
While we were trying to decide which ride to go on first, my little brother (about 6 at the time) spotted Tarzan! Tarzan was one of his favorite movies so he rushed right on over and joined a group of kids surrounding the costumed star. Well, Tarzan was giving hugs left and right. He was high-fiving all the kids and posing for photo ops. Given the crowd engulfing him, he was really putting male-multitasking to the test. He was doing great! That is, up until my brother, after about 2 hug-less minutes, got his attention with one solid, tiny-fist straight-arm to the gonads. Tarzan dropped like a sack of potatoes and Turk had to give him a break. Mortified, my mother collected my brother, apologized profusely and we continued about our otherwise very pleasant Disneyland Adventure.
Recently I was on a trip to vegas with my girlfriend ad my brother. So I was doing my BUSINESS in a stall in one of the bathrooms. A kid of about 6 to 8 years old tries to get into the stall. I cleared my throat and said in a loud voice, OCCUPIED! I'M IN HERE! Well this kid proceeded to unlock the door from the outside, as I yelled HEY WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING!? I'M IN HERE!, and opened the door all the way. So there I am, pants around my knees taking care of nature, and he's staring at me, mouth and eyes wide open, as is everyone else who could see me. I told him to, SHUT THE DOOR KID! So. He did, and I could hear him telling another kid what happened. The other kid said that it was gross! They laughed about it, and I presume that they exited the bathroom at the point. When I left, I saw the kid who opened the door on me with his dad. I told him what happened and he was a bit suprised. When he questioned the kid about it, the kid denied it, saying it wasn't him but someone else, but that he did see me in there. So his dad says why would I come up to him and say the kid did it, if it wasn't him. Kid says I don't know, dad apologized and made the kid do so as well. And that was the end.
Soooo the 8 year old boy I babysit thinks I'm a "hottie." Need I say more?