What's Wrong with this Picture?

I used to love those brain-puzzles where you have to find all the things that are wrong with the picture. It was always silly stuff, like a picture of a mom, hard at work in her daily routine. Only she's have a banana propped between her ear & shoulder instead of a phone... and she's be ironing with a toy firetruck instead of her iron.

Well, this is a photo I took of a flier that Tyson brought home from school the other day. It's advertising a couple of days when the local middle school's indoor swimming pool will be open for district families.

See if you can spot What's Wrong with this Picture.

Can you see it?

I know, at first I thought it must be the fact that a middle school has an indoor pool (in a district that is asking for a raise in taxes today). I mean, sheesh, my high school didn't have any kind of swimming pool at all! Unless you count that massive sink hole pothole out in front of the band room that used to fill up when it rained.

But, no. That's not it! Remember, this flier is advertising a fun-filled experience of family togetherness. Here's a hint:

See it now? That swimmer is not having a fun-filled evening of swimming. That swimmer is clearly in distress!

And he's not alone! There are a bunch of other swimmers-in-distress on the back of the flier!

It made me think that maybe we should skip this school activity in favor of more safe activities.

                 You know, like juggling swords.

Holy Mutant Fruit, Batman!

Look at what I found this morning.

This has GOT to be the biggest strawberry I have ever seen.

It is a mutant strawberry. It must have been grown near a nuclear power plant!

Upon further inspection, we have determined that it is the most ginormous strawberry ever because it is actually two strawberries that grew together. They are conjoined strawberries, if you will.

I absolutely love it when trivial things in nature go awry. When I see things like this, I am convinced that God does, indeed enjoy messing with me, just a little.

You know, by doing odd things like dropping mutant strawberries into my kids' breakfast cereal in the morning.

Ahhh... Life With Boys!

Here is a conversation I had with Tyson today. We had just left the book store, where he spent a gift card from Christmas (Thanks, Grammy & Pappy!). We were in the car, and from the backseat I heard:

Ty: Mom, why did that boy have the diarrhea?

Me: (thinking some poor kid had to leave school early today) Who had diarrhea?

Ty: That boy.

Me: Honey, I don't know which boy you're talking about. Did someone get sick at school today? (And also wondering why on earth bodily emissions are so fascinating to little boys.)

Ty: No Mom. You called him the "diarrhea kid" at the book store.

Me: Tyson Norman! I am quite certain that I did not, in fact, would not call anyone a name as offensive as that! It would be very rude and hurtful and I am pretty sure that particular phrase would never, ever cross my mind. (Thinking that we might have to pull a consequence from the jar when we get home)

Ty: But, Mom. You kept saying that about the boy on the book. That red book I got. I showed you the book and you said you heard of this diarrhea kid book.

Do you want to know what he was talking about?

My very sweet son didn't hear "Diary of a Wimpy Kid." He heard, "Diarrhea the Wimpy Kid!"

I laughed so hard I nearly had to pull the car over!

And then I wondered: Why on earth did he want to buy a book about a kid with diarrhea?

I think the answer is probably: Because he's a boy.