Well, he’s here. Weighing in at 9 lbs. 8 oz. and a full 22inches long, Jedidiah King Wilson popped into this world on Tuesday morning at 6:33 AM.
It was a long, exhausting delivery, and it was only with her last bit of strength that my beloved bride pushed the baby out. When interviewed, Debbie said, and I quote, “Ouch.”
Everyone is doing fine, and although a bit weary and saddle sore, my wife is beginning to get her sparkle back.
Last week I asked you to send in your stories and pictures of your deer hunting trophies. This year’s winner of the Familyman Big Buck Contest is Greg Pekham. As winner he will receive $40 in Familyman Products. So take a look at Greg’s mighty big buck as well as some other big bucks, a few does, and one huge squirrel.
Our first contestant entitled “Suicide Deer” sent in by George. Appearently it ran into, and through, a plate glass window of a local store…ouch. Sorry, George, its a good story and plenty bloody, but you didn’t pull the trigger.
As turkey day approaches and we’re reminded to count our blessings and be thankful for anything and everything, it’s important to remember why we’re thankful. First of all, I’m biased a bit in that I believe we should be thankful towards someone (i.e. God… you know, he invented turkey and all the trimmings in the first place) instead of just roaming around in a tryptophan-induced haze of general thankfulness towards all.
Hey Dad,
It’s been a red-letter week here at the Wilson home. Not only did we celebrate my birthday, but we also celebrated the first snowfall of the year. As is tradition, we ate dinner at Long John Silvers (don’t ask me how that one started), and we gave each of our children a new pair of gloves, or a new hat, or something ‘snowy.’
As hard as it is to make time for celebrations, the important thing about them is that they create memories, and those memories bring strength, love and comfort years later.
"Think happy thoughts...think happy thoughts!!!!" ""Uh, Mom...don't you think this is going a little far to save a few bucks on electricity?" "I could use a diaper change here!" "Tastes like chicken." "I've been framed I tell you...I'm innocent." You…
“Let’s see those Chinese acrobats do this!!!”
“I’ve got you, buddy. Just a little further.”
My five year old son wants to go camping with me. I have a choice: I could run screaming to the garage and bury myself in an “important” project like scrubbing the Rorschach-like oil stains from the floor, or I could take this chance to bond with my little guy and let him have a blast.
I’ve never liked camping. My idea of roughing it is buying generic toilet paper, and I’ve even been known to go so far as to purchase day old croissants. I’m not saying I’m not a manly-man… I mean, I can build stuff, kill bugs and I’ve yet to meet a pickle jar I cannot pop open in less than three grunts – and oh yeah, I don’t eat quiche.
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One day I found a pair of Channelock pliers when I raked up some composted leaves in the front yard. The joint was welded absolutely solid by rust so that the handles could not be budged! I made a wall plaque for my dad by mounting them to the face of a piece of maple. Underneath was an inscription; “Now my son has sons! Happy Father’s Day!
~Doug”
Personally I can’t wait to leave my old shoes and pool towels in his car when I visit. Let him explain it to his boss if something squeaks or is sticky.
~Kirk
