day threetwentysix - the trap

the trap















the bait
















the captive

day threetwentythree - part deux

 

day threetwentythree - wagontrain

Apparently I've forgotten how to post, or the baby on the left with the huge teeth ate my blog entry. This is the third time I've tried to get these pictures up and each time I hit publish, the entry disappears into the blogosphere. Suffice it to say, my comments were witty, pithy, insightful and wise beyond my years. I wanted to tell you about the wagon brigade I'm starting with my friend Oliver, the blueberry pancakes I had for breakfast this morning and the uncanny ability I have to balance on two feet while holding on to..............nothing! Unfortunately, I've run out of steam after typing this entry three times, so you get only the teasers above.

day threetwentyone - the tank engine

"Engine" looks really funny when you spell it out. I'm kind of lacking confidence that I spelled it right. Anyway, we finally got some pictures of Thomas the Tank Engine yesterday. I really like this one.

From the background of the picture, I can't tell if he is at the hospital or at SuperCuts. The glove holding his head makes me know for sure that it is SuperCuts or Great Clips or some other chain hair emporium. You even see that he has that sheet around his neck to keep the little hairs off of him. The person must be wearing a glove because she was just giving Thomas highlights. He said, "Give me blondish-brown with hints of pink underneath." Done.

He looks amazingly like Cam (check December and July archives to verify). I can't really think of anything funny to say about that. That is all.

day threefifteen - batteries dead

We left the camera on and now the batteries are dead. Until the recycler juices them back up, this is the only picture I can submit for the week. Kind of derivative and unispired, but it is still me, so it's better than the most perfectly balanced and focused pictures of most kids.

day threeohnine - bignews

Cam called into report the big news this afternoon. His little brother est arrivee, if vous parlez French. This picture of me was taken right after I heard the news, as I thought of the mischief the two Barnhardt boys will soon be having.

His name is Thomas Wylie/Wylly/WhyLee? - we aren't sure of the spelling of the middle name, but we know what it sounds like. The important thing is that he and his mom are fine. 

day threeohseven

After a long day, I come here, hang up my jacket, and then step into Narnia. 

day threeohsix - update

They've tried to take new pictures of me, but none of them are that good. So a few points of update:

We heard back from Breyers. They sent us a form letter about how they try earnestly 'to make sure there are a uniform number of swirls, chips, and nuts in each of our premier ice creams,' and that they are very sorry that our box didn't meet the standard. Bullocks I say. Balderdash.

It isn't surprising that they sent a form letter or that they sent us a voucher for more ice cream, or Klondikes, or anything else up to a six dollar value. What is surprising is that mom bought another half gallon of the same ice cream yesterday, from a different store, and - wait for it - there were no chips in that one either.

Should we write another letter and get another coupon? The decision is up to you. We will determine what to do according to the comments that you leave at this post. It's like a choose your own adventure book, but it is real life.