BBQ Chicken

I've always thought that I'm raising my kids the right way and tonight Max confirmed it. We cooked ribs and chicken, BBQ style. Is there any other way? Maybe, but I like my BBQ. Max was eating his rib like an animal, maybe a tiger or liger. We talked about how good dinner was and the fun we had making it. I let the boys throw in leaves, sticks, spiders, etc...until the charcoal is ready. While chewing on his rib Max said, "Dad. If we have chicken again. I want BBQ on mine!" then I gave him a high-5. Now I need to him to start drinking sweet tea.

Gotta Go

As most of you know my parenting style is fairly laid back until the kid's stomp on my hot buttons. What are my hot buttons? I don't know. Ask my kids or Sarah if you want to know. What aren't my hot buttons? Peeing in public.

We were going to Wal-Mart on Sunday prior to church to get our final supplies for the Super Bowl party. Sarah went inside to get our goods while the boys and I drove around the parking lot. Max tells me that he has to go real bad. The last time he told me this and I didn't pull over he peed his pants while we were driving home from Colorado. So I asked him how bad did he need to go? He said real bad. I told him we were in a bad spot because there were no bathrooms in the parking lot and I couldn't find a parking and get all of us inside before he peed his pants. What was my solution? I told Max if he really needed to pee then he would have to pee on the tire while we were in the parking lot. Like the champion that he is, Max shrugs his shoulders and gets out of the van. He pulls down his pants and pees on the tire with countless people passing him. Did he care? No. Was he bothered? Not at all. Is he a champion? No doubt. So don't go telling me about how special your kid is until he/she pees in the parking lot of Wal-Mart on Super Bowl Sunday and doesn't think a thing about it.