day 64
he volunteers himself a lot.
and in the rare instance that i'm not riding the coattails of his selfless good deeds, then the whole mother teresa thing is a bit of an inconvenience for me.
today he turned 30. but alas, he gets to spend this milestone around a campfire surrounded by tweenage scouts. why? because he volunteered himself.
oh camp geronimo, what could you possibly need 8 full days of scout camp for? you're too involved, calm yourself down.
and since there's no cell service where you are - because why would anyone need to get a hold of their family for an entire week - please tell my husband i say, "happy birthday. i paid for someone to mow the front and back lawn so you wouldn't have to. best gift ever? only the best for you."
8 comments:
no cell? that IS rough.
30 is a big one too. that's when all the old jokes get funny right??
he volunteered? he is making the rest of us look bad... but at least he's got the good example big brother down. I knew I looked up to him a whole lot for some reason... always have, probably always will.
but you watching the kids for a whole 8 days alone? the obvious hero in this tale.
he went up late. so to be fair, it's only been 6 days.
happy birthday to spencer.
sort of hilarious that he's in scouts...
he's not in scouts. that's the inconvenient part.
(he's in the bishopric. he just got home and said it was really good for the boys. do you think i have time to change this post into something that sounds a little less of a complaint before he reads it?)
I feel your pain. But not yet actually because Trent just left today. And by no means did he volunteer. So, basically, you win.
he is a good guy.
a guy my husband calls his best friend.
and for good reason.
happy birthday, spence.
is that michael green in the background of this picture?
kasey, i'm actually not sure who that is. which is a little creepster of me to put his face on my blog, so i'm just gonna say, "yes. yes it is."
we were there for my bro inlaw's sealing, but he could have been there for someone else's.
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