Thursday, November 30, 2006

Coasters this year's must have holiday gifts

Coasters are so in this year. At least I hope so.

Chances are, if you are on my Christmas list, you are getting some coasters. Lucky you. They are not your average ordinary everyday coasters, no, not by any means. They are Kelsey’s Customized Coasters that combine your love for travel and protecting your furniture from sweat rings.

I spent a large portion of my day yesterday designing gifts for family and friends at my online store, Touron Attire. This is the whole reason I made the store in the first place. It’s not to make any money. After today’s purchase, largely consisting of coasters, in fact, I am about $300 in the hole.

All items are listed at the base price. So if you want to buy something, I make nothing. Truly, I don’t want to enter the novelty T-shirt business. It seems like a sleazy business to me. No one should ever make money off of shirts such as “Farting is just another way to say I love you.”

As for coasters…the coaster industry – if there is a coaster industry – seems much more appealing.

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

I'm Kelsey and I will be your boring speaker today

I was the guest speaker at my old high school yesterday during their National Honor Society induction ceremony. The Mississinawa Valley NHS now – after the ceremony – consists of an entire 5 people. All girls.

I remember sitting through these things as a student. I wasn’t in the NHS, but the entire high school is forced to sit through the ceremony. The speakers I remember always seemed to be local business professionals – “Please help me in welcoming Jim from The Old Farmer’s Bank.” Staying awake was difficult.

When I was asked to talk, I told myself that I would not be that boring old guy at the podium droning on about the importance of something that no one would find important. I thought that I had worked up a fun talk and for some reason I pictured the kids rolling in laughter and hanging on every word. But once the talk started it didn’t take long to realize that in fact, I was that old guy and there was going to be no rolling or hanging. Well maybe some hanging, but in the “out to dry” sense.

Let’s just say that when you lead with a story about being de-pantsed and then follow it up with a memory of your gym teacher taking a wiffle ball to the groin, you hope for some laughs. When you get none, it’s a little unexpected and a bit uncomfortable.

I even talked about my encounter with a deadly poisonous snake and I only saw one person scoot to the edge of their seat, but he flicked somebody in the ear and then nestled back into lifeless mode.

I think I delivered my prepared talk well and I like to blame the silence of the 300 teens on the fact that they are lifeless, heartless, half-developed people who are too cool to laugh. But you know, maybe I wasn’t any good.

Believe it or not I did enjoy giving the speech. Some laughs would have been good, but I had some stuff to say and I said it, which is always kind of nice.

I’ll record the speech as a podcast in the near future so you can judge for yourself on its quality or lack thereof. Until then I’ve posted the outline below:
NHS Speech

A) It’s great to be here. I’ve got a lot of memories in this gym. There I…
…helped install this gym floor
…broke my foot
…I won some spelling bees. 3 in a row I know; it’s impressive. I peaked early. It’s all been down hill from there.
…playing wiffle ball I watched with interest as Mr. Griffis take a line drive to the…well, you get the idea.

B) What I do…travel & write

I’ve been a lot of places and people think I must know things. I expect that’s why I was asked here today. Well, the truth is there are a lot of things I don’t know. For instance…

3. What I don’t know & What I think I might know
- Fractions
o I have a confession…I can’t do fractions multiply, divide, add, subtract. What to do? Cross multiply, common denominator. I can’t remember. I have to think of pizza. Now if I have 4/59ths of a pizza and I want to add 8/73rds of a pizza to it. I’m sure all of you (stands) know how to do ‘em. And you all here on the floor better know how to do ‘em. Can we get some fraction tests down here.
- Burritos
o I don’t even know how to eat. I thought I did, but I don’t. Tell the Guatemalan Burrito Story.

4. I guess I’m supposed to talk about things I know, which actually isn’t a whole lot. But there are a few things…

Things I think I might know:
A. Snakes are scary. Snakes like puppy dogs. Especially poisonous ones sitting beside you in a canoe.
Read Midnight in the Jungle

B. The next think I know. Is never ever ever pee on flowing lava. And that’s all I’m going to say about that. Just don’t do it.

C. Don’t be too practical. We, who go to school in a middle of a cornfield (or was it beans this year?), we are often too practical.
When I was in school there were only about 5 occupations that could work towards: Lawyer, teacher, Dr., Nurse, business. That’s it. There’s nothing wrong with any of these professions; they’re just not for me.

Guidance counselor didn’t tell me I could be a vagabonding travel bum
If you want to design video games or clothes do it. Nothing is out of the realm of the impossible just be practical about it. Find out what it takes to reach that goal – what classes, what experience - and start working towards it. Don’t let it be something that you will look back on and wish you would have pursued.
I met Ted Kooser, the National Poet Laureate, at a Conference a few months ago. For those who don’t know what a Poet Laureate is or does don’t feel bad I didn’t know either until I was sitting beside him and asked “What do you do?”
Fewer things less practical than writing, especially poetry.
Ted is a practical guy and has worked as a insurance salesman in Nebraska for 30 years. Is he an insurance salesman? No he’s a poet.
- Ted was practical, he had a real paying job, but not too practical.

Don’t be too practical
Be grateful for education: I know it’s a lot to ask, being grateful that you are in school today, but you should be.
We avg. 12 years of schooling. The world avg. is 6 yrs.

ii. 781 Million Illiterate people in the world
1. 2x’s the pop of the USA

Poor countries best bang for buck
Win over children
Ex. Of children not able to answer the question “What do you want to be when you grow up.” It’s a question they’ve never been asked before. They don’t have an answer for it. If you can’t see beyond food and shelter, clothing and poverity
We all want to be something
i. At first I wanted to be an astronaut that did construction on the moon. Which actually, I’m still holding out for. It is. I even had this silver space man suit. There is too much heavy lifting in construction here on Earth, but on the moon, lumber and even steel is really light, “Oh, what’s that you need a 2X4, here you go…”
ii. Then NBA b-ball player
1. 5’11”. Slow. Can’t jump. Wasn’t meant to be.
iii. Now an author
iv. If I walked around here and asked you want you want to be when you grow up

These people (the members of the NHS) up here are taking advantage of their education and I’m sure many of you out there are too.

Take advantage of your education and never stop learning. There are a lot of things I’m sure you don’t know. We all have our own “fraction” and “burrito” issues. This is what I love about what I do. I get to learn about places, peoples, and ways of life. I can’t get enough of it. Once you find whatever it inspires you won’t be able to get enough of it either.

Conclusion: To recap: Snakes are scary, never you-know-what on flowing lava, don’t be too practical, don’t take your education for granted, take advantage of it.


Monday, November 27, 2006

Reality Tours

(yep, the photo has nothing to do with the Reality Tours that I'm talking about - and in fact, just might be the exact opposite. A kind of Bizarro World Reality Tour. But it was the first thing that popped up in Google Images so I thought: What the hey. Why should I be the only guy in blogger-land to not have a pic of Jessica Simpson on my Website?)
Where would you like to go?

How about to the heart of issues such as, Peace & Justice in Ireland, Sustainable development in Tanzania, the Amazon addiction to oil, fair trade in Nicaragua?

Yeah, doesn’t sound like much fun does it? But if you’re the type that likes their vacations more interesting and enlightening than drunken, sunny, and relaxing, you may want to check out the Reality Tours offered by Global Exchange.

What is a reality tour. I’ll let Global Exchange tell ya:

Reality Tours offer participants an opportunity to journey to other countries to examine a situation firsthand. This gives the individual the chance to understand the issues beyond what is communicated by the mass media. By joining us on one of these delegations, a participant will have the chance to learn about unfamiliar cultures, meet with people from various walks of life, and establish meaningful relationships with people from other countries. Most significantly, Reality Tours endow participants with a new vantage point from which to view and affect US foreign policy. We hope to also prompt participants to examine related issues in their own community and society.

I guess I would consider my upcoming trip a reality tour. I’m currently lining up local contacts to educate me on things. But will my tour “endow (this) participant with a new vantage point from which to view and affect US foreign policy.”? Who knows? I don’t see me influencing foreign policy all that much. But I hope to better understand the people and places I visit. Is that enough?

My self-guided reality tours may be somewhat foolish since I fly blind (read: don’t know what the heck I’m doing). For those who aren’t so foolish, joining a “delegation” through Global Exchange will likely yield an unforgettable experience all the same.

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

Congrats to all of my fellow Americans. The results are in and we are the most unfriendly country in the world, at least so says the 2,011 travelers interviewed in this survey.

Screw ‘em, that’s what I say! We’re unfriendly and have the right to bear arms.

According to a Reuters report of the survey, our incoming tourist numbers are down 1% since 2000, which equals about “$12.3 billion in additional spending, 150,000 additional U.S. jobs, $3.3 billion in additional payroll and $2.1 billion in additional taxes.”

The results show that Spain and France are the friendliest countries, which makes me think that “friendliness” make be directly proportional to a countries number of topless beaches.

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

Adventures in Local Journalism

Journalism school isn’t required. Spelling is a plus, but not required. Somewhere among the jumbled sentence structure and changing tenses is the truth. Maybe.

Sometimes my local paper (circulation less than 10,000) makes me laugh or just pisses me off. But rarely does a single story do both.

This particular story is about a young fella who went to a party and ended up falling off a bridge. He doesn’t remember any of it. No one does. It happened. It’s tragic and the newspaper’s assistant editor managed to butcher the story. Some unedited quotes from this less than stellar piece of journalism:

“Miniard’s body was reportedly found underneath the bridge in that hamlet.”

“Miniard’s body!?” The dude isn’t dead. He is still in his body. His body wasn’t found, he was. And yep, no one around here has ever read Hamlet, but we live in quaint enough gatherings of houses that we have actual hamlets.

Quoting the boys mother: “He had a bleed on the brain.”

Is this what the mother actually said or is this poor spelling? Even if the mother said this I don’t think it would be a unethical to help her out a little so she doesn’t look like an idiot. Or better yet, to avoid the ethics question, leave it out altogether.

In additions to his bleed on the brain, “He had lots of trauma to the left side of his head, his left arm was broken, the left wing on his pelvis snapped and a couple of ribs were broken. There was a break/fracture to the lower back and his spleen and pancreas were severed. That around the left eye was broken, and he had a head injury in his left temperal and peripheral lobe. He had no other bruises or scratches."

It pains me not to correct the above paragraph and, in fact, I have double checked my duplication to ensure that it appears exactly as written. Despite the incomplete sentences and bad spellings, this passage is completely ridiculous from a logic stand point. Come on, basically this guy just broke his entire body. We know because you went to great efforts to tell us. Do you really need to end the paragraph with “He had no other bruises or scratches.”?

“At one point he had 37 people in the waiting room (which just happens to be a few more than the population of the hamlet). His ex-girlfriends and their boyfriends were there.”

Ex-girlfriends? This cracks me up and makes up for all of the other irksome nonsense in the story.

This kind of thing does not regularly happen in our area. Here this journalist is sitting on top of the biggest story since the Great Corn Blight of ’84 and she has completely and utterly screwed the pooch and everything else that is bad to screw.

But you can bet that I’ll pick up the paper again today looking for more things to make me laugh and more things to piss me off. Because the truth is, I enjoy both.

Monday, November 20, 2006


I like to think that my degree in Anthropology has paid off during my travels. Honestly, what avenue of study could be more appropriate for becoming a professional traveler? Well, maybe this one…

studying to become a Jedi at the Star Wars Academy in Romania.

At the customs check: You wave your hand, “These aren’t the undeclared goods you are looking for.”

Pickpockets will fear your lightsaber.

Your travel agent will advise you: "Fear leads to Anger. Anger leads to Hate. Hate leads to flying standby."

The Star Wars Academy is the kind of quirky thing that I love to write about on my travels. You can bet your hairy butt Chewy that if I make it back to Romania I'll be stopping in for a visit.

Saturday, November 18, 2006

Manners in Bangladesh

From the Lonely Planet Bangladesh guidebook:

“…eating in the proper Bengali fashion involves disregarding everything you’ve ever been taught about table manners. Do slurp, do burp and, above all, do play with your food.”

What no farting at the table?

Friday, November 17, 2006

In Transitions Abroad

I have a piece on volunteering at Casa Guatemala in the Nov/Dec issue of Transitions Abroad. TA is a handsome glossy chalk-a-block full of content. I’m not just saying that. You can go page after page without running into an ad. Good for the reader, not so good for the writer – the pay ain’t great. Even so, I’m happy to be a part of this issue.

The issue is titled the Responsible Travel Issue, which almost makes me feel like I’m something greater than a culture trippin’ Touron. Almost.

Here’s a passage from the Editor’s letter:

Travel has the potential to bring much-needed economic benefits to developing countries and to foster cross-cultural awareness, dialogue, and understanding—all of which make for the conditions of world peace.

I’m just doing my part to promote world peace. I also fight crime, rescue kittens from trees, and help old ladies cross the street. My Karma cup runneth over.

Thursday, November 16, 2006

Wiki Faux Pas

Are you trying to blend in? Not break any social rules, customs, or niceties? Well, good luck with that. To help you out, here’s a list of faux pas from Wikipedia.

Items of note:

- In Malaysia pointing with your forefinger is considered impolite (especially when pointing at people). Instead, a closed fist held sideways (thumb at the top) with the thumb pointing the direction is used.

I thought politicians only did this.

- In Australia requesting items like a fanny pack in Australia can be considered obscene due to the usage of "fanny" as referring to a woman's genitalia. Bumbag is an acceptable local variation.

- In Bangladesh closing one's eyes during a meal is said to invite demonic possession of the hosts.

- Germany has 37 points of politeness!

- In Nicaragua calling someone a "cochón"(homosexual), when you really want to buy a "colchón" (mattress).

I can’t tell you how many times this happened to me when I was traveling in Nicaragua last year. Very embarrassing. Almost as uncomfortable as hauling the mattress around the country.
Just to show you how useful this list is, here’s what it has for the United States:

- It is considered impolite to ask a woman how old she is or inquire about her weight.

- Emitting any powerful odor or smell, whether due to lack of hygiene, diet, or applied perfumes, can be considered a violation of others' personal space. The application of perfume or cologne may be considered embarrassingly overdone if their scent is detectable beyond the close personal proximity of the wearer. In recent years the smell of smoke from the use of tobacco products has also become socially unacceptable, except in areas specifically designated for smoking.

And here I’ve been walking around smelling from “lack of hygiene” asking women, “How much you weigh baby?” Oops. I'm a heathen in my own country.

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

Where the Hell is Matt?

I've heard of Matt and his dancing, but I just watched his video for the first time. Awesome. Almost touching. It makes me want to write sappy stuff, but don't worry, I won't.
I blame the music. If the music was funny music instead of inspiring, maybe I would want to write funny stuff. Anyhow, watch the video.

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Are you and Ugly American: Part 3 of 10

Budget Travel’s tips to avoid being a jerk abroad:

Use Clear English

Why I’m apparently an Ugly American:

When it comes to trying to communicate with non-English speakers, my options are limited. Thank the satellites floating in space, everyone knows a little English. At least I like to thank so.

How my communication cookie crumbles:

"I speak good English as Second Language. I think. I try no conjugate verbs so other persons who no speak English much, understand. Yes?"

No? Let me see how I can put this.

"I speak (with one hand I motion like a puppet, with the other I point to my mouth) good (thumbs-up, big smile) English as second (hold up two fingers) language. I think (point to head). I try no conjugate verbs (scratch my head as I search for the proper way to mime this and find none) so other persons (point to puzzled listener) who no Speak English much (again, with the puppet hand and pointing to my head), understand (hold up hands in questions and give big smile)? Yes?"

No? You still don’t understand. Let me try again.

I repeat the phrase complete with eccentric sign language except this time I speak with a strange accented staccato, which even an English speaker would not likely comprehend.


I give an I’m-a-big-idiot smile and dismiss myself from the situation.

I may look and sound like a fool, but am I ugly for it? Now, before anyone gets their knickers in a twist, I don’t think that everyone should speak English. I usually try to work in as much of the local language as I know, which is often slim to none.

It’s kind of pathetic - I spent 16 years in school and speak only one language. I’ve hung out with people who have had next to no schooling that carry on conversations in 4 different languages. This happened when I was in Nicaragua trying to get on the lobster boat. Some of the sailors spoke English, Spanish, Creole, and Moskito.

With that being said, I have been in few situations where I wasn’t able to communicate with someone regardless of how little English they understood and how little of their language I understood. In Bosnia I once went on a hike with a guy who Spoke Albanian and no English. We communicated through a pocket-size Enlish/Albanian dictionary. When I think back to the hike, I remember whole conversations not frustrations from the lack of a shared language.

Who needs words anyhow?

Monday, November 13, 2006


I thought Kevin Costner’s sailboat in Waterworld was cool, but check this out…

The l’Hydroptere Greek for “Marine Wing” or English for “l’Water Peter” crossed the English Channel in record time with an average speed of 38 MPH. With 12 knots of wind, the hull, flying on a hydrofoil, is 4 feet out of the water and the crew 15 feet.

Definitely wouldn’t want to go overboard off of this one.

Friday, November 10, 2006

Jingle These

I’m spending the day researching my upcoming trip to Bangladesh. Why Bangladesh?

This is why…

That’s where my underwear were made. You got a better reason to go?

How bitter can a guy get?

I’ll let you be the judge.

To set the mood: I had spent over 2 weeks in Puerto Cabezas talking with sailors, captains, the Coast Guard, and immigration officers trying to finagle my way onto a lobster diving boat. When the night finally came the boat owner, Alberto Wu, told me I wouldn’t be going. This after I had spoken with him several times before and after he had watched me haul my gear onto his boat. If he would have shared this bit of info a week earlier, I could have made other arrangements.

What follows is word for bitter-dripping word out of my journal:

I sat on the toilet naked, my head in my hands sweaty from a long day at the dock. I pulled at my hair for lack of, and inability, to do anything better. I sat like that for 15 minutes, which is an awful long time to sit on a toilet and do nothing.

I thought how I was going to tell-off Alberto Wu. There was going to be a lot of vulgarity and hatred. Then I decided I would try an underhand “Killing with kindness attack.”

Here’s what I’d say to Wu through one of his henchman: “Tell Mr. Wu that I appreciated the dignity, the respect, and, most of all, the courtesy with which I was treated. And that I look forward to sharing his many fine qualities with my many readers (what’s a little exaggeration; as far as he knows I write for TIME) in the USA.”

Did I mention how fat he is? He is the fattest man in town. The sailors just call him plain “Gordo.” I like to call him “Gordo Alberto” or “Fat Albert.” He’s a strongly proportioned fat man. His legs seem to be of a relatively normal shape. Everything is standard up from the feet until you hit the waist. There on up the fatness explodes. It’s almost like someone set a barrel on 2 sticks and filled it with fat and stink. Rolls go all the way around, one on top of the other until they finally stack up to form Wu’s torso. On top of the barrel his head sits like a gallon jug. 2 sticks, a gusseted barrel, and a jug of milk, that’s the profile we’re working with here. His face is roughly rectangular, but rounded by fat courtesy of one large extra chin and a square-topped haircut.


That's how bitter.

Thursday, November 09, 2006

Ellis Road

On Ellis Road I…


Chased birds.

Was in a car crash.

Was sprayed by a skunk.

Invented skateboard/skiing behind a bike with a ski rope.

Learned to ride a bike.

Crashed a bike.

Lost dogs.

Was pushed in a wheelchair by my run-crazy mom.

Learned to drive.

Rode the mower to the neighbors.

Hit a brand spankin’ new white Cadillac with a juicy red tomato.

Had ants in my pants.

All of these things and more.

Norway and Iceland might be the best places to live, but life on Ellis Road wasn’t too bad.

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

Don't die in Adam's County

Forget Virginia and Montana. The results for the Adams Country Coroner race are in…

Clevenger-Democrat-for-County-Coroner won with 57% of the vote, despite his ridiculous campaign signs and all of Touron Nation actively smearing his name.

I feel powerless. I tried to reach out and help the uninformed Adams countians (who I’ve never met) make a wise choice for dead-person-identifier and they chose to ignore me. But hey, if they think colored chalk makes a good coroner, so be it. Don’t come crying to me when you die and your chalk outline is pink and your hips look big and someone drew a smiley face on it and added both male and female anatomy to it.

I tried.

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

Gore Vidal on Americans on Italians

Author Gore Vidal on the average American's knowledge of Italians (as heard on the Bob Edward’s show):

“(Americans) don’t know Michelangelo from pizza.”

The Race for Life & Death in Indiana

I just stumbled upon an article in the Muncie Star Press about the heated Coroner’s race in Adam’s County, Indiana. It turns out the challenger of Clevenger-Democrat-for-County-Coroner has a name -- Michael Seidle.

In the past 6 months Indiana’s standards for coroners have been revealed as somewhat suspect. Consider the crash on I-69 involving two Taylor University students. One died. One lived. The coroner identified the one living as the one dead. Oops. Although, Clevenger-Democrat-for-County-Coroner had nothing to do with this, it’s obvious that the people of Adam’s County (whoever they are, I don’t know any) are ready for a change.

Besides, as the Star Press says, “Practically anyone can be elected to the office.”

Seidle has a website and blog, which is something I really look for in a dead-person-identifier. He also has a killer slogan: “Put a little life back in the coroner’s office.”

Take that Clevenger-Democrat-for-County-Coroner!

While other forms of media provide you with the latest in the who-cares congressional elections, Touron Talk brings you the race for Life & Death. What could be more important?
We'll keep you posted.

Monday, November 06, 2006

The Land of Democracy

The Romans or Greeks – or some other peoples that wore togas – may have invented democracy, but we here in the USA have taken it to a whole ‘nother level. Right?

Let’s have a look at the numbers.

The % of voting age people that voted in last election (from the most recent reported figures by the International Institute of Democracy and Electoral Assistance):

Kazakhstan - 71%

Islamic Republic of Iran – 76%

Venezuela – 48%

Uganda – 74%

Germany – 75%

Russia – 68%

The United State of America (World War liberator, communist butt-kicker, home of Superman and Captain America) – 47%

OK. Maybe we aren't the badasses of democracy that we thought we were, but at least we've got this guy on our side...

Friday, November 03, 2006

Coming to a village near you...

Imagine walking into a village. Africa, Central America, it doesn’t matter just as long as it’s remote.

You probably got there by following some pot-holed dirt road. You saw a car, but it was broken down and holes were rusted in the side. There are no power lines in sight. Tonight’s dinner runs amok clucking or mooing.

You approach a building made of corrugated metal and spare 2x4’s. You hear kids chattering about as kids do. It must be a school. You peak in the window. And this is where things get real creapy…

Every kid pecks away at a laptop.

Yves Behar is designing a $100 laptop for countries to buy by the millions to give to school children. The goal - “One Laptop per Child.” Read about the project in Wired magazine.

What would this mean?

Worst case - Cultures are squashed as the children of the world become addicted to online poker.

Best case - World Peace as the children of the world obtain online degrees as pharmaceutical assistants from the University of Phoenix.

I think this is an awesome idea and I hope it comes about. It would be interesting to see how it influences cultures and international politics.

Thursday, November 02, 2006

GAGgle Images

See the post beneath this one? The one with the pic of the bus? I didn't take the pic, but used Google images, as I often do, to find one that related to my posting.
Google Images is a great tool, but it sometimes makes me want to vomit on my keyboard. Such was the case as I searched for "Crowded bus" and stumbled upon an image titled "Prolapsed Uterus."
God, help me.

Are you an Ugly American? Part 2 of 10

Budget Travel’s tips to avoid being a jerk abroad:

#1 Find the local Rhythm.

Why I’m apparently an Ugly American:

On a bus in Mostar, Bosnia…

Elbows were brushed and knees were bruised, as I tried to find a place to claim as my own. Heads turned back at me, my wake of despise. Eventually I was squirted down onto the steps mid-bus.

Whew, made it, and now I’ve got this nice little spot on the steps all to myself, but when do I get off?

A few stops went by and more and more people squeezed into the bus. I’ll just step down one more step and make a little more room. The bus filled with BO and damp exhaled air.

Another stop and more people!!! Isn’t there a limit on this puppy? I’ll step down one more step.

Huh, look at that sign: Warning door hits step! I’ve been ok; I really don’t see that being a problem.

Stopped again, more people shoved into the bus. Someone call Guinness or the circus, either way we should be able to make some money off of this.

The door opened.

Ok, its opening and…ooh my foot it seems to be stuck. It doesn’t really hurt; play it off like its nothing. What is this guy doing…?

He was pushing on the door trying to free my foot. I waved him off, “It doesn’t hurt,” which it didn’t…at first. Embarrassment yielded to pain and I became panicked like an animal in a trap.

Maybe, if you push harder and I twist like this…

The man hollered to the driver.

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Mummy misses Mommy

I spent my Halloween taking care of this tiny little monster who happens to be my girlfriend’s nephew.

Half mummy half 3-year-old, Jared broke his leg while fleeing the oh-so-dreaded bathtub. He flipped over the back of the couch and landed on some kind of exercise wheel. Listening to him explain the whole thing is a riot.

We played matchboxes for about 8 hours.

I spent my Halloween fearing poop. Thankfully, there was none.