We pack the boys' bikes and Alden's scooter into the back of that tiny excuse of an SUV called a Suburban. (sorry, but once you've gone Excursion, everything seems tiny. teeny. itsy bitsy. ) We went up to the school so the kiddos could ride their hearts out, and Alden could hit the playground. Lincoln and Hadji were racing around and around the track. (Lincoln always winning) We lost count of how many times. I can safely say it was miles. How do I know? It was long enough for Micah and I to have a typical Jude-tear filled-heart to heart. Poor Micah. we have these often as situations arise that merit my freaking out. Again, poor Micah.
Eh, as usual, I digress. Miles they went.
Next thing we know Lincoln has gotten all confident on his bike, to the point that he attempts to high five us as he drives by. This sounds good, only... Lincoln hit the sandy dirt just right, and next thing you know he is splayed out in a jumble of bike parts, cut knees, and blood. He is crying a little, which means it hurts, because he rarely cries. Micah and I go running over, trying to help untangle him from the handlebars when Hadji cruises by and yells...
"Thanks for the head start kid."
we all stood there for a minute with our mouths agape, and then burst out laughing.
This kid is a mess. A funny mess though. Tonight at dinner I asked him and Lincoln to give Alden a couple of their chips. Lincoln hands over a couple, and Hadji picks up one, breaks it into three pieces and proclaims, "There is three from me Alden." Seriously? We laughed, which lead to us laughing again about the "Thanks for the head start Kid" line, and then Hadji proclaims,
"Let's have a family fart."
Only at the casa de fingerprint does dinner end with that line...