<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304</id><updated>2011-12-01T08:04:02.596-08:00</updated><title type='text'>From the Front Porch</title><subtitle type='html'>My first two blogs are about baseball and theology.  This blog is about the third category of life... everything else.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>264</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-735317311733346321</id><published>2011-06-30T20:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-30T20:09:09.278-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Hundred Million</title><content type='html'>Just before our youngest's fourth birthday, I was talking to him about the upcoming day.&amp;nbsp; He said, "When I'm five, I'll have five candles on my cake.&amp;nbsp; And when I'm a hundred million, I'll be as tall as the ceiling."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-735317311733346321?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/735317311733346321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=735317311733346321&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/735317311733346321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/735317311733346321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2011/06/hundred-million.html' title='A Hundred Million'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-8127746579424760014</id><published>2011-03-26T20:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-26T20:50:56.430-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Every Of It</title><content type='html'>When our three year old doesn't like something, he often uses the phrase, "I hate every of it."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-8127746579424760014?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2011/03/every-of-it.html' title='Every Of It'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/8127746579424760014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=8127746579424760014&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/8127746579424760014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/8127746579424760014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2011/03/every-of-it.html' title='Every Of It'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-5043367360797118226</id><published>2011-03-20T00:38:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-20T00:38:55.619-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shampoo</title><content type='html'>Our three year old was talking with me about car colors.&amp;nbsp; "Dad, your car is shampoo."&amp;nbsp; He meant "champagne."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-5043367360797118226?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2011/03/shampoo.html' title='Shampoo'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/5043367360797118226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=5043367360797118226&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/5043367360797118226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/5043367360797118226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2011/03/shampoo.html' title='Shampoo'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-4375928269157103633</id><published>2011-02-26T08:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-20T00:39:37.443-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Unsick</title><content type='html'>Our kids have had a bout with the flu this week.&amp;nbsp; Our three year old declared his health thus, "I'm unsick."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-4375928269157103633?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2011/02/unsick.html' title='Unsick'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/4375928269157103633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=4375928269157103633&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/4375928269157103633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/4375928269157103633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2011/02/unsick.html' title='Unsick'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-7163445801128308820</id><published>2010-12-28T23:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-20T00:39:57.603-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Like An Hour</title><content type='html'>Two of our kids were discussing who would get to play video games first, and included me in the conversation.&amp;nbsp; I concluded that our nine year old could play for half an hour, then it would be our five year old's turn.&amp;nbsp; The younger objected to the decision with the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, but, a half an hour is like...an hour!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-7163445801128308820?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/12/like-hour.html' title='Like An Hour'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/7163445801128308820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=7163445801128308820&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/7163445801128308820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/7163445801128308820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/12/like-hour.html' title='Like An Hour'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-7753279257978998479</id><published>2010-12-15T16:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-20T00:40:20.423-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What?</title><content type='html'>Our nine year old to our five year old: "You have short-term memory loss."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-7753279257978998479?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/12/what.html' title='What?'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/7753279257978998479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=7753279257978998479&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/7753279257978998479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/7753279257978998479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/12/what.html' title='What?'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-3127987167019085775</id><published>2010-12-02T15:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-20T00:40:39.668-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Spanish</title><content type='html'>Me to my three year old: "Did your brother take his folder?"&lt;br /&gt;My three year old: "Yes, he taked it."&lt;br /&gt;Me: "He took it.&amp;nbsp; Can you say that?&amp;nbsp; Taked isn't a word."&lt;br /&gt;Him: "It's Spanish."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-3127987167019085775?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/12/spanish.html' title='Spanish'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/3127987167019085775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=3127987167019085775&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/3127987167019085775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/3127987167019085775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/12/spanish.html' title='Spanish'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-3856231943684876352</id><published>2010-11-24T11:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-24T11:20:33.959-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Template Upgrade Problem</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/TO1g0S-wpvI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/Y7zshgzB3mA/s1600/Template+Layout.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="179" ox="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/TO1g0S-wpvI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/Y7zshgzB3mA/s320/Template+Layout.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I'm having problems upgrading my template for this blog from a classic template ("Rounders 3" template from early 2005) to&amp;nbsp;a new template.&amp;nbsp; I have multiple classic template blogs from early 2005 and multiple new blogs created with the new templates.&amp;nbsp; I want to upgrade all my old templates to the new ones.&amp;nbsp; My first attempt has some problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I upgraded to the new template, I entered the template designer to choose a template.&amp;nbsp; Everything was very slow in loading, and my preview is blank, except for the rightmost 1/2" and bottom 1/2".&amp;nbsp; See photo above.&amp;nbsp; Sometimes, even the part of the preview that shows up goes blank.&amp;nbsp; There are other problems too:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Changing any setting in the template designer is very slow.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The cursor flashes very rapidly between a normal cursor and that rotating circle (MS Waiting!)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The blog page loads very slow from any computer, even though this blog is more simple (fewer links and gadgets) than my other new template blogs.&amp;nbsp; Same profile photo, etc.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My other new blogs with the latest templates don't have any of these problems.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have two computers, one with IE8.0 and the other with Firefox 3.6.12.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The above photo is from the IE8.0 computer.&amp;nbsp; The Firefox computer gives a normal template design preview, but everything is just as slow with changing settings, etc.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I've&amp;nbsp;changed my template&amp;nbsp;many times&amp;nbsp;as well (Simple, Awesome, etc.), but there is no change in either the template preview or the sluggishness of changing settings.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Occasionally, when going into the template designer, the preview will show the whole blog page correctly for a fraction of a second, then change to what's shown in the photo above, then it may completely go blank.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Any help is appreciated in advance.&amp;nbsp; Thanks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-3856231943684876352?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/11/template-upgrade-problem.html' title='Template Upgrade Problem'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/3856231943684876352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=3856231943684876352&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/3856231943684876352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/3856231943684876352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/11/template-upgrade-problem.html' title='Template Upgrade Problem'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/TO1g0S-wpvI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/Y7zshgzB3mA/s72-c/Template+Layout.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-5434669923645910629</id><published>2010-11-19T20:36:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-19T20:36:22.403-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Amn't</title><content type='html'>Mrs. Scott placed our three year old on top of the kitchen counter to cuff his pants.&amp;nbsp; He said, "Look at me.&amp;nbsp; How tall am I?"&amp;nbsp; I replied, "You're the tallest one in our family!"&amp;nbsp; He countered, "No, I amn't."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-5434669923645910629?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/11/i-amnt.html' title='I Amn&apos;t'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/5434669923645910629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=5434669923645910629&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/5434669923645910629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/5434669923645910629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/11/i-amnt.html' title='I Amn&apos;t'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-765546517722920712</id><published>2010-09-24T19:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-24T19:42:57.793-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Meet In The Future</title><content type='html'>As we were driving by the street where Mrs. Scott's grandmother lived 30 years ago, I noted it to our 8 year old: "You never knew your great grandmother."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He replied, "I met her in the future."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-765546517722920712?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/09/meet-in-future.html' title='Meet In The Future'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/765546517722920712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=765546517722920712&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/765546517722920712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/765546517722920712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/09/meet-in-future.html' title='Meet In The Future'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-7742203970722151037</id><published>2010-09-12T22:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T22:12:49.144-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Post</title><content type='html'>This is a post.&amp;nbsp; It's been a long time since there has been a post here.&amp;nbsp; But this IS a post.&amp;nbsp; It may not look like one, but it is.&amp;nbsp; I've neglected this blog, and Mrs. Scott has hinted that it may be hijacked.&amp;nbsp; We'll have to wait and see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-7742203970722151037?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/09/post.html' title='Post'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/7742203970722151037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=7742203970722151037&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/7742203970722151037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/7742203970722151037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/09/post.html' title='Post'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-450488626840794613</id><published>2010-07-25T11:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-25T11:40:50.652-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Measure</title><content type='html'>Mrs. Scott had the tape measure out to size something up. As she walked past our three year old's toy car in the driveway he asked, "Mommy, can you see how measure my car is?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-450488626840794613?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/07/measure.html' title='Measure'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/450488626840794613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=450488626840794613&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/450488626840794613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/450488626840794613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/07/measure.html' title='Measure'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-4653553052454579077</id><published>2010-06-08T14:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-08T14:09:29.714-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Growing Up</title><content type='html'>Our two year old today as I told him someday &lt;em&gt;he&lt;/em&gt;, too, would take showers:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't want to grow up."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-4653553052454579077?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/06/growing-up.html' title='Growing Up'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/4653553052454579077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=4653553052454579077&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/4653553052454579077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/4653553052454579077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/06/growing-up.html' title='Growing Up'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-1807256100747089739</id><published>2010-04-24T17:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-24T17:53:59.216-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day Of Boys</title><content type='html'>Today, our five year old got four hits in his pee-wee game, out eight year old caught a lizard at the fields and our two year old carried the bag for his toddler-sized fold out chair with purpose. Sometimes it's just the small things.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-1807256100747089739?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/04/day-of-boys.html' title='Day Of Boys'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/1807256100747089739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=1807256100747089739&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1807256100747089739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1807256100747089739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/04/day-of-boys.html' title='Day Of Boys'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-6758150633423428589</id><published>2010-04-14T14:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T14:09:16.237-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Da'yy Tah - Revisited</title><content type='html'>Before our youngest turned two, he was saying "da'yy tah" for "daddy's car." I &lt;a href="http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/04/dayy-tah.html"&gt;posted about&lt;/a&gt; this previously. Now that he's older, he has no problem pronouncing it correctly. A couple of days ago we went out the front door and my car was parked in the driveway. "Da'yy Tah!" he proclaimed. Then he turned around with a big smile on his face and said, "I used to say that."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-6758150633423428589?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/04/dayy-tah-revisited.html' title='Da&apos;yy Tah - Revisited'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/6758150633423428589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=6758150633423428589&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/6758150633423428589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/6758150633423428589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/04/dayy-tah-revisited.html' title='Da&apos;yy Tah - Revisited'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-7511555192097449699</id><published>2010-03-20T21:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-20T21:24:51.551-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Sport That Makes You Sweat</title><content type='html'>Mrs. Scott was coughing (the result of a waning cold) and exclaimed, "I hate coughing." Our eight year old proclaimed, "Coughing is a sport that makes you sweat."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-7511555192097449699?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/03/sport-that-makes-you-sweat.html' title='A Sport That Makes You Sweat'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/7511555192097449699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=7511555192097449699&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/7511555192097449699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/7511555192097449699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/03/sport-that-makes-you-sweat.html' title='A Sport That Makes You Sweat'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-3762972667008184212</id><published>2010-02-25T09:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-25T09:26:36.587-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Open Space</title><content type='html'>We have several open space areas near where we live that I take the older kids occasionally. These are hilly areas that have been open for ever and have been turned into parks with little human intervention. So far, we've seen a coyote, hawks, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;snake skins&lt;/span&gt;, pheasants, field mice, lizards, cows and jack rabbits. Neither kid has seen all of these, yet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-3762972667008184212?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/02/open-space.html' title='Open Space'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/3762972667008184212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=3762972667008184212&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/3762972667008184212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/3762972667008184212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/02/open-space.html' title='Open Space'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-4577177529994581561</id><published>2010-02-10T00:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-10T00:45:01.699-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Middle Letter</title><content type='html'>Our two year old asked Mrs. Scott which letter was the middle letter of the alphabet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-4577177529994581561?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/02/middle-letter.html' title='The Middle Letter'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/4577177529994581561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=4577177529994581561&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/4577177529994581561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/4577177529994581561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/02/middle-letter.html' title='The Middle Letter'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-6087419982164968776</id><published>2010-02-05T20:08:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-05T20:09:23.078-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Too Fit For Me</title><content type='html'>When something, such as an article of clothing, doesn't fit our two year old, he says, "It's too fit for me."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-6087419982164968776?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/02/too-fit-for-me.html' title='Too Fit For Me'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/6087419982164968776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=6087419982164968776&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/6087419982164968776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/6087419982164968776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/02/too-fit-for-me.html' title='Too Fit For Me'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-2963496043670431019</id><published>2010-02-03T22:37:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-03T22:40:00.130-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Au Revoir</title><content type='html'>The cousins were over recently, and when they were leaving, our eight year old came out of nowhere with the following question, whispered in my ear: "Dad, how do you say 'good bye' in French?" He butchered it, but oh, well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-2963496043670431019?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/02/au-revoir.html' title='Au Revoir'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/2963496043670431019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=2963496043670431019&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/2963496043670431019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/2963496043670431019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/02/au-revoir.html' title='Au Revoir'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-6237270954952282025</id><published>2010-01-27T23:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T09:40:07.884-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"F" Is For Grandpa, "B" Is For Grandma</title><content type='html'>Not only has our two year old taught himself the alphabet, he's figured out the first letter of each of our family member's names. He says, "M is for mommy. D is for daddy," and so on, including for his own name and the name of his brothers. We never set him up to think like this, he just did it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then last week, he blew us away. He started saying, "F is for grandpa" and "B is for grandma." Obviously, the letters don't correspond to the first letters of the words "grandpa" and "grandma." Rather, F and B are their first initials. Again, we didn't teach him the association of letters and their sounds, either. Really scary.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-6237270954952282025?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/01/f-is-for-grandpa-b-is-for-grandma.html' title='&quot;F&quot; Is For Grandpa, &quot;B&quot; Is For Grandma'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/6237270954952282025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=6237270954952282025&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/6237270954952282025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/6237270954952282025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/01/f-is-for-grandpa-b-is-for-grandma.html' title='&quot;F&quot; Is For Grandpa, &quot;B&quot; Is For Grandma'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-1063381237741329553</id><published>2010-01-27T00:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T00:35:10.734-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Alphabet Boy</title><content type='html'>With no input from parents, our two year old taught himself the alphabet with the Blue's Clues Alphabet Power DVD in just under two weeks.  Now he notices letters everywhere and calls them out.  He's scary.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-1063381237741329553?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/01/alphabet-boy.html' title='Alphabet Boy'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/1063381237741329553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=1063381237741329553&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1063381237741329553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1063381237741329553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/01/alphabet-boy.html' title='Alphabet Boy'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-7865349712357580979</id><published>2010-01-14T00:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T00:52:46.469-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Say What?</title><content type='html'>As we exited the house to head down the stairs, our two year old handed me his &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;sippy&lt;/span&gt; cup in order to grab the hand rail. "Can you put this in your purse?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad: "I don't have a purse."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-7865349712357580979?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/01/say-what.html' title='Say What?'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/7865349712357580979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=7865349712357580979&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/7865349712357580979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/7865349712357580979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/01/say-what.html' title='Say What?'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-1296107026325095638</id><published>2010-01-10T19:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T19:56:50.713-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Today Tomorrow</title><content type='html'>Our two year old: "Dad, what's today?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Today is Sunday."&lt;br /&gt;Two year old: "No. Today is tomorrow," followed by a big smile.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-1296107026325095638?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/01/today-tomorrow.html' title='Today Tomorrow'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/1296107026325095638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=1296107026325095638&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1296107026325095638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1296107026325095638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/01/today-tomorrow.html' title='Today Tomorrow'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-5822673290184005055</id><published>2010-01-09T00:15:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-09T00:17:01.628-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bald Bat Hair</title><content type='html'>Mrs. Scott to all the boys: "All you guys need haircuts again."&lt;br /&gt;Our four year old: "If I get one more haircut, I'll be bald!"&lt;br /&gt;Our two year old: "You're not a ball, you're a bat!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-5822673290184005055?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/01/bald-bat-hair.html' title='Bald Bat Hair'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/5822673290184005055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=5822673290184005055&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/5822673290184005055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/5822673290184005055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/01/bald-bat-hair.html' title='Bald Bat Hair'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-1925876297736309418</id><published>2010-01-01T13:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-01T13:30:11.244-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What Bappened?</title><content type='html'>Our two year old said "bapple" for the longest time as his word for "apple." He has started saying, "What bappened?" Even though you want him to say "What happened?" correctly (eventually), it's still cute to hear him use his own word.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-1925876297736309418?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/01/what-bappened.html' title='What Bappened?'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/1925876297736309418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=1925876297736309418&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1925876297736309418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1925876297736309418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2010/01/what-bappened.html' title='What Bappened?'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-1430151546073966771</id><published>2009-12-20T12:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-20T12:58:25.197-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday Funnies</title><content type='html'>Mrs. Scott: "Are you watching this game?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "You can change it to the other game if you want."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-1430151546073966771?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/12/sunday-funnies.html' title='Sunday Funnies'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/1430151546073966771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=1430151546073966771&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1430151546073966771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1430151546073966771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/12/sunday-funnies.html' title='Sunday Funnies'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-7038143063904744505</id><published>2009-12-18T17:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-18T17:38:00.619-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Commercial</title><content type='html'>I was sitting on the sofa watching cartoons with our two year old.  Suddenly during a commercial, he stated, "We'll be back, right after this."  Is this a good thing?  He really doesn't watch much TV, so maybe it's fine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-7038143063904744505?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/12/commercial.html' title='Commercial'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/7038143063904744505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=7038143063904744505&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/7038143063904744505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/7038143063904744505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/12/commercial.html' title='Commercial'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-4018725402307057104</id><published>2009-12-17T16:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-17T16:38:09.857-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mommy's Son</title><content type='html'>I said to my two year old (with Mrs. Scott listening): "You're my son."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He replied, "No, I'm not. I'm &lt;em&gt;mommy's&lt;/em&gt; son."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-4018725402307057104?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/12/mommys-son.html' title='Mommy&apos;s Son'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/4018725402307057104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=4018725402307057104&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/4018725402307057104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/4018725402307057104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/12/mommys-son.html' title='Mommy&apos;s Son'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-5029235589679312033</id><published>2009-12-11T11:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-11T11:28:48.252-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Raining Snow!</title><content type='html'>A few days ago, we headed up Mt. Diablo (3849 ft.) to see the snow. The huge winter storm now sweeping across the nation hit us (San Fran) first. We don't normally get snow at near sea level, so this one was one to take the kids up the mountain. It was great snow, 3-6 inches deep. Multitudes went up the mountain. It was our kids' first time being in the snow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some snow was falling from the tree branches, and we got caught under one such pouring out. Our four year old yelled, "It's raining snow!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-5029235589679312033?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/12/its-raining-snow.html' title='It&apos;s Raining Snow!'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/5029235589679312033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=5029235589679312033&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/5029235589679312033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/5029235589679312033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/12/its-raining-snow.html' title='It&apos;s Raining Snow!'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-6747567599868608234</id><published>2009-12-04T11:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-04T11:07:59.651-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Say What?</title><content type='html'>I don't know what our two year old was talking about specifically, but he said, "I have to figure out if the batteries work in it. I have to look at it and check it out."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kids these days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-6747567599868608234?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/12/say-what.html' title='Say What?'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/6747567599868608234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=6747567599868608234&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/6747567599868608234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/6747567599868608234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/12/say-what.html' title='Say What?'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-1699278681982405640</id><published>2009-11-26T13:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T13:45:43.867-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nose</title><content type='html'>Our two year old and I were goofing around and I said, "You've got a little nose right there on your face." He replied, "Daddy has a &lt;em&gt;big&lt;/em&gt; nose." Even if it's not coming from a two year old, it's still true.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-1699278681982405640?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/11/nose.html' title='Nose'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/1699278681982405640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=1699278681982405640&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1699278681982405640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1699278681982405640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/11/nose.html' title='Nose'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-5088550996291962988</id><published>2009-11-21T12:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-21T12:59:53.501-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Greatest Hugs In The World</title><content type='html'>Our two year old simply gives the greatest hugs in the world. I often tell him this. So today he gives me a hug and I tell him I loved his hug. He replied, "The greatest hugs in the world."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-5088550996291962988?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/11/greatest-hugs-in-world.html' title='Greatest Hugs In The World'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/5088550996291962988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=5088550996291962988&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/5088550996291962988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/5088550996291962988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/11/greatest-hugs-in-world.html' title='Greatest Hugs In The World'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-5156045047307278375</id><published>2009-11-15T17:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-15T17:52:58.739-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stalemate</title><content type='html'>Mrs. Scott to a whiny two year old: "Use your words."&lt;br /&gt;His reply, "I don't want to use my words."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-5156045047307278375?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/11/stalemate.html' title='Stalemate'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/5156045047307278375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=5156045047307278375&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/5156045047307278375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/5156045047307278375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/11/stalemate.html' title='Stalemate'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-6789581665861274720</id><published>2009-11-10T13:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-10T13:44:36.452-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Hate The Yankees</title><content type='html'>"I hate the Yankees!" So said our four year old during the World Series. Now, in our house we direct our wrath toward the Dodgers, being Giants fans. So, how did a four year old come up with such a universal sentiment?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-6789581665861274720?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-hate-yankees.html' title='I Hate The Yankees'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/6789581665861274720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=6789581665861274720&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/6789581665861274720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/6789581665861274720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-hate-yankees.html' title='I Hate The Yankees'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-6061394411774894024</id><published>2009-11-07T10:19:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T10:57:04.010-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fold Him In Half</title><content type='html'>Our two year old was lying down with Mrs. Scott, and he had his stuffed Elmo with him. He wanted to sit Elmo down and said to her, "Fold him in half." Where does a two year old get the idea of folding something in half?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-6061394411774894024?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/11/fold-him-in-half.html' title='Fold Him In Half'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/6061394411774894024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=6061394411774894024&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/6061394411774894024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/6061394411774894024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/11/fold-him-in-half.html' title='Fold Him In Half'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-1890112143136921655</id><published>2009-10-24T18:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-24T18:02:53.657-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not Gross Anymore</title><content type='html'>From the back seat of my car, our two year old said, "Daddy, your car isn't gross anymore." "Not gross?" "Not anymore."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't know it ever was gross.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-1890112143136921655?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/10/not-gross-anymore.html' title='Not Gross Anymore'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/1890112143136921655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=1890112143136921655&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1890112143136921655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1890112143136921655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/10/not-gross-anymore.html' title='Not Gross Anymore'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-3378605972930013994</id><published>2009-10-17T02:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-17T02:37:56.666-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We Can Put The Beds In The Car</title><content type='html'>Our two year old (27 months) to Mrs. Scott, two weeks after moving:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I want to go to your house. I want to go to our old house. We can put the beds in the car."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-3378605972930013994?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/10/we-can-put-beds-in-car.html' title='We Can Put The Beds In The Car'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/3378605972930013994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=3378605972930013994&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/3378605972930013994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/3378605972930013994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/10/we-can-put-beds-in-car.html' title='We Can Put The Beds In The Car'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-3924022012776553357</id><published>2009-10-15T19:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T19:51:46.795-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Until You're Older</title><content type='html'>At the store my two oldest had this exchange:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 yr. old: "Whoa! &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Lookit&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;lookit&lt;/span&gt;!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Free sample vendor: "Aw, look at that, daddy"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8 yr. old: "What?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 yr. old: "That girl doesn't have any pants!" (she was wearing short denim shorts with a long t-shirt so it looked like she didn't have pants)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8 yr. old: "Yes, she did. She had shorts on. Besides, you're not supposed to see those things until you're older."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-3924022012776553357?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/10/until-youre-older.html' title='Until You&apos;re Older'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/3924022012776553357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=3924022012776553357&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/3924022012776553357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/3924022012776553357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/10/until-youre-older.html' title='Until You&apos;re Older'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-4064955673260009091</id><published>2009-10-14T23:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T23:39:07.076-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kung Fu Gophers</title><content type='html'>Overhearing our four year old from the back seat:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Gophers live under the back yard and dig to China where they do &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Kung&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Fu&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-4064955673260009091?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/10/kung-fu-gophers.html' title='Kung Fu Gophers'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/4064955673260009091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=4064955673260009091&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/4064955673260009091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/4064955673260009091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/10/kung-fu-gophers.html' title='Kung Fu Gophers'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-1300326034999965616</id><published>2009-10-11T22:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-11T23:16:47.360-07:00</updated><title type='text'>That's Weird</title><content type='html'>I was calling our new house from our old one, and there's a phone with built-in answering machine. Our four year old has never had experience with an answering machine. I left a message for the owner and he could hear my voice. He stared at it and answered, "That's weird."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-1300326034999965616?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/10/thats-weird.html' title='That&apos;s Weird'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/1300326034999965616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=1300326034999965616&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1300326034999965616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1300326034999965616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/10/thats-weird.html' title='That&apos;s Weird'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-3371638036962124511</id><published>2009-10-08T00:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T00:08:33.268-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jammie Monster</title><content type='html'>Tonight, while changing our two year old into jammies, he called me the Jammie Monster.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-3371638036962124511?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/10/jammie-monster.html' title='Jammie Monster'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/3371638036962124511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=3371638036962124511&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/3371638036962124511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/3371638036962124511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/10/jammie-monster.html' title='Jammie Monster'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-2325593306372207450</id><published>2009-10-02T02:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-02T02:53:51.501-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Can You Spell "Superhero"?</title><content type='html'>On the way home from our almost eight year &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;old's&lt;/span&gt; soccer game tonight, with best friend next door neighbor with us, Mrs. Scott started a verbal math and spelling flash card run.  It was a fun way to help the kids out with their learning.  What's 8 plus 7?  How do you spell "water?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a friendly form of competition between the two.  Then our four year old chimed in with some great spelling questions.  How do you spell "superhero?"  How do you spell "owl?"  and last, but certainly most telling, How do you spell "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Lincecum&lt;/span&gt;?"  It couldn't have been more perfect.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-2325593306372207450?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/10/can-you-spell-superhero.html' title='Can You Spell &quot;Superhero&quot;?'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/2325593306372207450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=2325593306372207450&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/2325593306372207450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/2325593306372207450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/10/can-you-spell-superhero.html' title='Can You Spell &quot;Superhero&quot;?'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-2990873748171120966</id><published>2009-09-28T15:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T15:20:10.275-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Muhlmo Diaper</title><content type='html'>Our two year old is so large, there's only one place we've been able to find diapers for him.  Babies R Us.  They have pictures of Sesame Street characters, Elmo, Big Bird, Grover, Ernie and Cookie Monster.  His favorite - the only one he wants to wear - is the diaper with Elmo on it.  He gets smiley when he sees his favorites and says, "Muhlmo diaper."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-2990873748171120966?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/09/muhlmo-diaper.html' title='Muhlmo Diaper'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/2990873748171120966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=2990873748171120966&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/2990873748171120966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/2990873748171120966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/09/muhlmo-diaper.html' title='Muhlmo Diaper'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-4505919773216643830</id><published>2009-09-24T20:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T20:54:07.355-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe It's Backwards</title><content type='html'>The buckle was stuck as Mrs. Scott tried to secure our 26 month old in his car seat.  She asked herself, "I wonder what's wrong?"  He replied, "Maybe it's backwards."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-4505919773216643830?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/09/maybe-its-backwards.html' title='Maybe It&apos;s Backwards'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/4505919773216643830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=4505919773216643830&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/4505919773216643830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/4505919773216643830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/09/maybe-its-backwards.html' title='Maybe It&apos;s Backwards'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-3016469892206786360</id><published>2009-09-17T02:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-17T02:35:06.286-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Luhllow, Yewwow and Yeyyow</title><content type='html'>Each of our little ones has had a funny way of saying the color yellow.  Now it's our youngest's turn.  After Luhllow and Yewwow, we now hear Yeyyow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-3016469892206786360?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/09/luhllow-yewwow-and-yeyyow.html' title='Luhllow, Yewwow and Yeyyow'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/3016469892206786360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=3016469892206786360&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/3016469892206786360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/3016469892206786360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/09/luhllow-yewwow-and-yeyyow.html' title='Luhllow, Yewwow and Yeyyow'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-1151963385451455076</id><published>2009-09-11T12:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T12:11:33.676-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sandy Eggo</title><content type='html'>We took a trip to San Diego recently.  Our kids love Eggo waffles, and we went to the beach, so if you have waffles on the beach and get sand on them, you have Sandy Eggo's.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-1151963385451455076?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/09/sandy-eggo.html' title='Sandy Eggo'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/1151963385451455076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=1151963385451455076&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1151963385451455076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1151963385451455076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/09/sandy-eggo.html' title='Sandy Eggo'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-8511183000106301139</id><published>2009-09-09T17:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T17:49:33.378-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You Got Your Dad On</title><content type='html'>Our two year &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;old's&lt;/span&gt; nickname is Hooch.  When his personality really shines through, we say he has his Hooch on.  I wrote about this &lt;a href="http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/03/got-your-hooch-on.html"&gt;&lt;u&gt;here&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.  The other day, he woke up early and came in and climbed in bed.  He was overly happy and not cranky at all, and was pouring it on.  So, I asked him, "You got your Hooch on?"  He replied, "You got your &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;dad&lt;/span&gt; on!"  He's only 26 months old.  Scary.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-8511183000106301139?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/09/you-got-your-dad-on.html' title='You Got Your Dad On'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/8511183000106301139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=8511183000106301139&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/8511183000106301139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/8511183000106301139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/09/you-got-your-dad-on.html' title='You Got Your Dad On'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-190803279492092631</id><published>2009-09-05T16:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-05T16:20:12.351-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Shower Man</title><content type='html'>When your four year old not only says that he wants to take showers instead of baths, but wants to take them by himself, and he does a good job, you don't complain.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-190803279492092631?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/09/little-shower-man.html' title='Little Shower Man'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/190803279492092631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=190803279492092631&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/190803279492092631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/190803279492092631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/09/little-shower-man.html' title='Little Shower Man'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-2312248941640895409</id><published>2009-08-24T15:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T15:20:50.852-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Great Tastes</title><content type='html'>"Hey, you got barbecue sauce in my diet Pepsi."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, yeah?  Well, you got diet Pepsi in my barbecue sauce!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-2312248941640895409?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/08/two-great-tastes.html' title='Two Great Tastes'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/2312248941640895409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=2312248941640895409&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/2312248941640895409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/2312248941640895409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/08/two-great-tastes.html' title='Two Great Tastes'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-3594825712060529166</id><published>2009-08-22T20:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T20:56:04.634-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Working</title><content type='html'>Our two year old has been having too frequent diaper changes and has a rash as a result.  So the last few diaper changes I told him, "We're putting medicine on it to make it feel better."  Tonight he replied, "It's working!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-3594825712060529166?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/08/its-working.html' title='It&apos;s Working'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/3594825712060529166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=3594825712060529166&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/3594825712060529166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/3594825712060529166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/08/its-working.html' title='It&apos;s Working'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-7365425108782511703</id><published>2009-08-20T10:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T10:23:29.479-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Year Old Quotes</title><content type='html'>He's only 25 months old.  Last night at the dinner table: "Please pass it."  This morning on a brother's choice of movies: "It's a stupid movie.  It's a stupid movie."  Then when his older brother said, "Shut the freak up!," he replied, "No, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt; shut the freak up."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-7365425108782511703?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/08/two-year-old-quotes.html' title='Two Year Old Quotes'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/7365425108782511703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=7365425108782511703&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/7365425108782511703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/7365425108782511703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/08/two-year-old-quotes.html' title='Two Year Old Quotes'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-7573530558216626428</id><published>2009-08-16T16:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T16:17:34.465-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Growth Squirt</title><content type='html'>Our two year old is anything but a squirt.  As big as he is, he's grown an inch and a half over the last two months.  Time for some new clothes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-7573530558216626428?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/08/growth-squirt.html' title='Growth Squirt'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/7573530558216626428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=7573530558216626428&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/7573530558216626428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/7573530558216626428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/08/growth-squirt.html' title='Growth Squirt'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-7299100926257517775</id><published>2009-08-13T15:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T15:12:04.238-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Profile Photo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoSPet1SZII/AAAAAAAAAHc/7nKdn9LvWuY/s1600-h/scott_steve_write02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 319px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoSPet1SZII/AAAAAAAAAHc/7nKdn9LvWuY/s320/scott_steve_write02.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369574413594420354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've added a new profile photo to my blogs. This photo was a professional headshot produced by my friend Deb Wat. The photo shoot was a very interesting process, and Deb is a true professional. Her objective for this shot was to draw me out of my element as a writer. I think it came out great, and my family and friends agree. Check out her site at &lt;a href="http://www.debwat.com/"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;u&gt;Deb Wat Photography&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-7299100926257517775?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/08/new-profile-photo.html' title='New Profile Photo'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/7299100926257517775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=7299100926257517775&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/7299100926257517775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/7299100926257517775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/08/new-profile-photo.html' title='New Profile Photo'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoSPet1SZII/AAAAAAAAAHc/7nKdn9LvWuY/s72-c/scott_steve_write02.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-7790348488619841575</id><published>2009-08-06T20:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T21:26:10.980-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Top Ramen, My Parents and Jesus</title><content type='html'>I cooked Top &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ramen&lt;/span&gt; tonight for the kids, with some leftovers from last night.  Our seven year old came into the kitchen and commented on how much he loved the noodles, and that they were his third most loved thing in his life.  I asked what the first two were, and he said, "The second is my parents.  And the first is Jesus."  I'm glad my kid thinks more highly of me than Top &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ramen&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-7790348488619841575?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/08/top-ramen-my-parents-and-jesus.html' title='Top Ramen, My Parents and Jesus'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/7790348488619841575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=7790348488619841575&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/7790348488619841575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/7790348488619841575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/08/top-ramen-my-parents-and-jesus.html' title='Top Ramen, My Parents and Jesus'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-2072080644299926344</id><published>2009-07-30T17:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T17:20:40.075-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where Does The President Live?</title><content type='html'>"Daddy, where does the president of the United States live?" asked our four year old from the back seat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Giving an answer that put it into a context he could understand, I replied, "He lives in Washington, D.C., close to where the Washington Nationals play in their ballpark."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Barack Obama lives there, too," he observed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, Barack Obama &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;is&lt;/span&gt; the president of the United States," I clarified.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Does he live in his own house?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, he lives in a house, called the White House, where all the presidents live.  Where did you hear about all this?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-2072080644299926344?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/07/where-does-president-live.html' title='Where Does The President Live?'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/2072080644299926344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=2072080644299926344&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/2072080644299926344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/2072080644299926344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/07/where-does-president-live.html' title='Where Does The President Live?'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-1195435425153773116</id><published>2009-07-23T13:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-24T17:04:14.367-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Mommy/Daddy Distinction</title><content type='html'>Our two year old distinguishes between mommy and daddy's things as often as he can.  He'll exclaim, "Mommy's car!", followed by, "Daddy's car!", repeating this several times.  He says, "Mommy's clock!", and "Daddy's clock!", etc.,  for our clock radios on each night stand.  Hats, shoes, chairs at the table.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-1195435425153773116?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/07/mommydaddy-distinction.html' title='The Mommy/Daddy Distinction'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/1195435425153773116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=1195435425153773116&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1195435425153773116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1195435425153773116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/07/mommydaddy-distinction.html' title='The Mommy/Daddy Distinction'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-3799016908214887187</id><published>2009-07-22T17:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T17:53:47.262-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Orange, Orange, Yellow</title><content type='html'>Every small child learns one color first. Our two year old has started learning his colors. Yellow was his first a couple of weeks ago and now he's learned red and black. Our oldest and second learned orange first. Orange, orange, yellow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-3799016908214887187?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/07/orange-orange-yellow.html' title='Orange, Orange, Yellow'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/3799016908214887187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=3799016908214887187&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/3799016908214887187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/3799016908214887187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/07/orange-orange-yellow.html' title='Orange, Orange, Yellow'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-5409647034491988089</id><published>2009-07-18T17:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T17:54:27.664-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oygurt, Yoigwit and Yogeet</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Oygurt&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;yoigwit&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;yogeet&lt;/span&gt; are the three names our little ones have used for yogurt as toddlers. Our oldest used &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;yogeet&lt;/span&gt;, and we remember how funny that was. Now his brothers have &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;matched&lt;/span&gt; him for pronunciation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-5409647034491988089?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/07/oygurt-yoigwit-and-yogeet.html' title='Oygurt, Yoigwit and Yogeet'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/5409647034491988089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=5409647034491988089&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/5409647034491988089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/5409647034491988089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/07/oygurt-yoigwit-and-yogeet.html' title='Oygurt, Yoigwit and Yogeet'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-5234847158975176705</id><published>2009-07-18T10:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-18T10:28:12.171-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Micro Brewers</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bleacherbumming.blogspot.com/2009/07/micro-brewers.html"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Cross posted&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/a&gt; at From the Bleachers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Giants single A team in San Jose is called the Giants, after the parent club. The team is known as the "Little Giants." Well, if you apply this logic to the Brewers team, and Mrs. Scott did, a Brewers minor league team can be known as the "Micro Brewers." Good thinking, Mrs. Scott!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-5234847158975176705?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/07/micro-brewers.html' title='Micro Brewers'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/5234847158975176705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=5234847158975176705&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/5234847158975176705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/5234847158975176705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/07/micro-brewers.html' title='Micro Brewers'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-8204491537280241924</id><published>2009-07-17T12:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-17T13:00:22.912-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Daddy's Cookies</title><content type='html'>Each of my children have used the same term to label something I like.  They use "daddy's cookies."  Those would be Trader Joe's triple ginger snaps.  They like them, too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-8204491537280241924?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/07/daddys-cookies.html' title='Daddy&apos;s Cookies'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/8204491537280241924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=8204491537280241924&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/8204491537280241924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/8204491537280241924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/07/daddys-cookies.html' title='Daddy&apos;s Cookies'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-7794631958784516125</id><published>2009-07-12T11:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T11:36:47.416-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Four Minutes Till Ten</title><content type='html'>Last night we had a family night out, and were out later than usual.  Mrs. Scott admonished us all, "Everybody sleep in until ten o'clock tomorrow!"  At 9:56 this morning, our two year old came in and asked for a "bar," a granola bar.  Pretty close timing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-7794631958784516125?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/07/four-minutes-till-ten.html' title='Four Minutes Till Ten'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/7794631958784516125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=7794631958784516125&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/7794631958784516125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/7794631958784516125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/07/four-minutes-till-ten.html' title='Four Minutes Till Ten'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-7785960176616247352</id><published>2009-07-07T10:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T10:41:40.155-07:00</updated><title type='text'>M Tiwce</title><content type='html'>Our two year old calls M&amp;amp;M's, "Emm." So Mrs. Scott and I tried to get him to say "M&amp;amp;M."  "Emm," he kept replying.  We laughed.  So Mrs. Scott said, "Say emm twice."  "Emm twice."  Okay, nevermind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-7785960176616247352?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/07/m-tiwce.html' title='M Tiwce'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/7785960176616247352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=7785960176616247352&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/7785960176616247352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/7785960176616247352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/07/m-tiwce.html' title='M Tiwce'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-4383213667799655260</id><published>2009-07-02T18:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T18:17:11.172-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Be Quiet Or I'll Die</title><content type='html'>With his brothers and next door neighbor in his room, our seven year old was exclaiming, "Hey, guys, be quiet or I'll die!"  Afterward we understood that he meant that his guy would die on the video game because they were distracting him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-4383213667799655260?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/07/be-quiet-or-ill-die.html' title='Be Quiet Or I&apos;ll Die'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/4383213667799655260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=4383213667799655260&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/4383213667799655260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/4383213667799655260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/07/be-quiet-or-ill-die.html' title='Be Quiet Or I&apos;ll Die'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-8167653358799426346</id><published>2009-06-29T08:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-29T12:41:50.600-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Is My Name</title><content type='html'>Our youngest son is now two years old. In preparation for his birthday, this last week Mrs. Scott and I taught him to respond to the question, "How old are you?" with the answer, "Two." He's doing great at this, and both birthday parties (on both sides of the family) were a time of giving everybody some good laughs with his new means of self-advertisement. He hasn't succeeded in holding up two fingers yet, but &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;boldly&lt;/span&gt; thrusts out one finger with his excited proclamation of "Two!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's just now comfortable with saying his name. He says everybody &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;else's&lt;/span&gt; but just hasn't shown interest until last week in saying his own. But the funny thing is that when he is asked what his name is, he replies with, "Two!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-8167653358799426346?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/06/two-is-my-name.html' title='Two Is My Name'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/8167653358799426346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=8167653358799426346&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/8167653358799426346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/8167653358799426346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/06/two-is-my-name.html' title='Two Is My Name'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-3407407456223954500</id><published>2009-06-28T12:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T22:48:21.864-07:00</updated><title type='text'>They're Not Chickens</title><content type='html'>Our four year old and Mrs. Scott were having a deep conversation over some freshly finished hard boiled eggs. Copying his mom, our nearly two year old said in as plain and clear speech as we've ever heard, "They're not chickens."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-3407407456223954500?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/06/theyre-not-chickens.html' title='They&apos;re Not Chickens'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/3407407456223954500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=3407407456223954500&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/3407407456223954500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/3407407456223954500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/06/theyre-not-chickens.html' title='They&apos;re Not Chickens'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-6696018991767416200</id><published>2009-06-27T18:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-27T18:18:55.209-07:00</updated><title type='text'>God's Toy Cars</title><content type='html'>Upon entering a large parking lot full of cars, our seven year old said, "God has a lot of toy cars."  After Mrs. Scott asked for a clarification, he added, "All of our cars are his.  Sometimes he causes them to crash.  He has a million fingers so he can drive them around."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-6696018991767416200?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/06/gods-toy-cars.html' title='God&apos;s Toy Cars'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/6696018991767416200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=6696018991767416200&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/6696018991767416200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/6696018991767416200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/06/gods-toy-cars.html' title='God&apos;s Toy Cars'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-1284285067791558868</id><published>2009-06-22T22:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T22:53:00.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cousins</title><content type='html'>Our four year old: "Mom, did you know that Costco is the cousin of Trader Joe's?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-1284285067791558868?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/06/cousins.html' title='Cousins'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/1284285067791558868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=1284285067791558868&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1284285067791558868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1284285067791558868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/06/cousins.html' title='Cousins'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-1630524005946411221</id><published>2009-06-17T03:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T20:09:04.855-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Turn On The Conditionator</title><content type='html'>It was warm the other day, and a bit hot inside the car.  Our four year old blurted out, "Turn on the conditionator."  That would be A/C for short.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-1630524005946411221?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/06/turn-on-conditionator.html' title='Turn On The Conditionator'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/1630524005946411221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=1630524005946411221&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1630524005946411221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1630524005946411221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/06/turn-on-conditionator.html' title='Turn On The Conditionator'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-2126093840197084367</id><published>2009-06-13T00:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-13T00:57:11.841-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Your Fault</title><content type='html'>Today was our first grader's last day of school. They had an awards ceremony, and he won an award for turning in all of his homework for the entire school year. Unknown to us, he told his teacher that his mom should get the award because she made him do his homework. Then tonight at dinner, we both praised him for the feat. He replied, "It's your fault, mom."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-2126093840197084367?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/06/its-your-fault.html' title='It&apos;s Your Fault'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/2126093840197084367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=2126093840197084367&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/2126093840197084367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/2126093840197084367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/06/its-your-fault.html' title='It&apos;s Your Fault'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-3814770270132623839</id><published>2009-06-10T00:05:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T00:10:43.266-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Can't See</title><content type='html'>Our 23 month old will occasionally pull his hat down over his eyes, or close himself in a dark closet, in order to say, "Can't see!"  This is good fun for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, we were alone together for the evening, and we built a Thomas train track.  Percy was the engine and our son put a tunnel over the track.  I pulled the train around and hid Percy in the tunnel and said, "Percy's hiding in the tunnel."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Can't see!" he replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love watching children put ideas together and apply them to other situations.  It's as if they are asking approval for their logical deductions.  If we approve, they file it away for future use.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-3814770270132623839?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/06/cant-see.html' title='Can&apos;t See'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/3814770270132623839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=3814770270132623839&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/3814770270132623839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/3814770270132623839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/06/cant-see.html' title='Can&apos;t See'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-9089775917036827919</id><published>2009-06-04T02:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T02:48:21.222-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Need My Own Refrigerator</title><content type='html'>Our four year old has a practice of raiding the fridge all day long.  He's wired not as a three meal per day kid, but as a grazer.  We're okay with this.  Yeah, he has some junk food snacks, but mostly he eats fruits and veggies.  Cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, carrots, apples, mushrooms, yogurt.  But there are times when all the kids are sent away from the kitchen.  When mom is making dinner, when there's a spill, when we're at the other end of the house and can't keep an eye on it.  Yesterday, during one of those times, our four year old remarked with a sigh, "I need my own refrigerator."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-9089775917036827919?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-need-my-own-refrigerator.html' title='I Need My Own Refrigerator'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/9089775917036827919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=9089775917036827919&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/9089775917036827919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/9089775917036827919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-need-my-own-refrigerator.html' title='I Need My Own Refrigerator'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-7028790925743186155</id><published>2009-06-02T08:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T02:48:55.781-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It Tastes Like Hot Sauce</title><content type='html'>Mrs. Scott arrived back from getting a hot chocolate.  Our four year old wanted to taste it, and Mrs. Scott warned him of the temperature.  He revealed "It tastes like hot sauce."  Hot sauce?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-7028790925743186155?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/06/it-tastes-like-hot-sauce.html' title='It Tastes Like Hot Sauce'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/7028790925743186155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=7028790925743186155&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/7028790925743186155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/7028790925743186155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/06/it-tastes-like-hot-sauce.html' title='It Tastes Like Hot Sauce'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-5751854650657701153</id><published>2009-05-28T10:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-06T14:33:06.087-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shoe Fly Jr.</title><content type='html'>I hate flies in my house. So I've learned a number of techniques over the years to shoe them out of the house. Well it appears that one of my boys has been watching. Our doors have been unavoidably open recently, so the fly count is high. Mrs. Scott said I would be proud how our four year old used a tissue to remove two flies from the living room window yesterday. Way to go, Boo-Boo!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-5751854650657701153?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/05/shoe-fly-jr.html' title='Shoe Fly Jr.'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/5751854650657701153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=5751854650657701153&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/5751854650657701153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/5751854650657701153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/05/shoe-fly-jr.html' title='Shoe Fly Jr.'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-7616751071751535469</id><published>2009-05-27T08:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T00:11:16.519-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb - The Real Story</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Correction: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The story got lost between Mrs. Scott and my blogging.  Here is the way it really went down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mrs. Scott has taken to calling our two youngest "Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb."  One day our four year old asked "Which one of us is Tweedle Dumb?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-7616751071751535469?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/05/tweedle-dee-and-tweedle-dumb-real-story.html' title='Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb - The Real Story'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/7616751071751535469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=7616751071751535469&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/7616751071751535469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/7616751071751535469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/05/tweedle-dee-and-tweedle-dumb-real-story.html' title='Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb - The Real Story'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-3790924676269377134</id><published>2009-05-27T02:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T01:20:48.362-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tweedledum and Tweedledee</title><content type='html'>Mrs. Scott remarked about our two youngest: "You guys are Tweedledum and Tweedledee."&lt;br /&gt;Our four year old replied: "Am I Tweedledum?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-3790924676269377134?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/05/tweedledum-and-tweedledee.html' title='Tweedledum and Tweedledee'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/3790924676269377134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=3790924676269377134&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/3790924676269377134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/3790924676269377134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/05/tweedledum-and-tweedledee.html' title='Tweedledum and Tweedledee'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-3677988205217990205</id><published>2009-05-20T14:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T01:21:08.345-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Girl Friend</title><content type='html'>Our 22 month old said, "Girl friend" - or so I thought.  "Girl friend?" I asked.  He approached me with a Tupperware container full of Goldfish crackers.  "Ohhhh, you mean &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Gold fish&lt;/span&gt;?" I asked.  Suddenly a burst of laughter came from Mrs. Scott in the back room as she heard him say "girl friend" too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-3677988205217990205?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/05/girl-friend.html' title='Girl Friend'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/3677988205217990205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=3677988205217990205&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/3677988205217990205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/3677988205217990205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/05/girl-friend.html' title='Girl Friend'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-1376921043740907866</id><published>2009-05-19T03:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T03:02:17.527-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not A Toy</title><content type='html'>Mrs. Scott told our 22 month old not to touch something.  "Not a toy" was his reply.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-1376921043740907866?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/1376921043740907866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=1376921043740907866&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1376921043740907866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1376921043740907866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/05/not-toy.html' title='Not A Toy'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-141826345302777311</id><published>2009-05-12T01:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T01:07:20.273-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Home Run!</title><content type='html'>I turned the tube on this weekend to the Giants/Dodgers game and went into the other room briefly.  Our 22 month old walked in and saw the TV.  "Home run, daddy, home run!"  I don't know why he chose those words to describe a game on TV, but it was as cute as could be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-141826345302777311?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/141826345302777311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=141826345302777311&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/141826345302777311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/141826345302777311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/05/home-run.html' title='Home Run!'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-7066532741359257679</id><published>2009-05-06T02:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T02:46:10.713-07:00</updated><title type='text'>F-Word Art</title><content type='html'>Some kids say the F-word.  When they are young, they may not know what it means.  They just hear it from their friends and it sounds impressive so they use it, too.  I learned the f-word when I was four.  Well, our oldest loves art and is quite active at drawing, and has a creative mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what do we find taped up in his bedroom?  Well, he spelled out the f-word in 2 1/2" high letters, in what looks like Arial true-type font, bold, with fill.  Each letter is about 3/8" thick with a dark outline.  The fill is a combination of two separate hatchings.  Dark green hatching consisting of sharp crayon width lines with no spacing in between each line, the lines being directional with the length of each letter.  A second cross-hatching is in yellow, perpendicular to the letter direction, with approximately 1/8" spacing between hatch lines.  The entire word is surrounded with red sun rays at about a 1/2" spacing, and a 4"x6" cloud shape is cut out around the word and taped with Scotch tape to the frame of his bunk bed.  He's seven. Parents tell their kids not to use the word. So what do we say?  Don't draw the f-word?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I forgot to mention it's all lower case.  Should we pin this up on our fridge?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-7066532741359257679?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/7066532741359257679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=7066532741359257679&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/7066532741359257679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/7066532741359257679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/05/f-word-art.html' title='F-Word Art'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-1188982886859114652</id><published>2009-05-03T11:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T11:45:07.529-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe He Turned On The Hose</title><content type='html'>There was a pool of liquid on the floor and a wet shirt on our 22 month old as he stood next to the liquid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mrs. Scott: "How did this water get on the floor?"&lt;br /&gt;Our four year old: "Maybe he went outside and turned the hose on."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-1188982886859114652?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/1188982886859114652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=1188982886859114652&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1188982886859114652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1188982886859114652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/05/maybe-he-turned-on-hose.html' title='Maybe He Turned On The Hose'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-2826593670611025095</id><published>2009-05-02T23:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-02T23:33:35.422-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll Sit Down - Verbal Explosion</title><content type='html'>Our 22 month old had a verbal increase this week.  Sentences suddenly started coming out.  I told him to sit down so I could put his shoes on.  "I'll sit down here, daddy, I'll sit down."  Or, in the bath tub with his brother out came, "My turn. My turn, daddy, wash me now."  Scary.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-2826593670611025095?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/2826593670611025095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=2826593670611025095&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/2826593670611025095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/2826593670611025095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/05/ill-sit-down-verbal-explosion.html' title='I&apos;ll Sit Down - Verbal Explosion'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-6316955815797974118</id><published>2009-04-29T02:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T02:13:19.161-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Da'yy Tah!</title><content type='html'>All three of our boys have started speaking "daddy" with a silent double D at the end.  "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Tah&lt;/span&gt;" is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;toddlespeak&lt;/span&gt; for "car."  Our 22 month old says "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;mo'yy&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;tah&lt;/span&gt;" for "mommy's car" also.  It won't be long before he majors in English.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-6316955815797974118?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/6316955815797974118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=6316955815797974118&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/6316955815797974118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/6316955815797974118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/04/dayy-tah.html' title='Da&apos;yy Tah!'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-1624772653250219054</id><published>2009-04-24T23:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T23:23:25.812-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lizard Crew</title><content type='html'>Our seven year old found a lizard in the usual place.  We have "keystone" concrete blocks stacked up as the barrier for the tan bark in the play area in the back yard.  They hide there underneath the blocks.  Later, he put it into the sand box, and all three boys were huddled around looking at its new temporary habitat.  Junior scientists.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-1624772653250219054?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/1624772653250219054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=1624772653250219054&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1624772653250219054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1624772653250219054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/04/lizard-crew.html' title='Lizard Crew'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-1791940721537301187</id><published>2009-04-23T02:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T02:14:02.410-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Neighbors</title><content type='html'>Somebody is living in the house across the street.  We think.  It was a foreclosure, then bought by somebody rumored to have known another neighbor at some time in the past.  Work was done on it by a number of people, and some of those people stayed there while working on it.  Now a woman who has been around calling the shots appears to be there.  She wears scrubs.  Is she in medical?  Maybe someday we'll introduce ourselves.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-1791940721537301187?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/1791940721537301187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=1791940721537301187&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1791940721537301187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1791940721537301187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/04/new-neighbors.html' title='New Neighbors'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-4286579304075770335</id><published>2009-04-19T22:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T22:55:12.050-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cotton Candy Man</title><content type='html'>At the baseball game today our seven year old said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dad, I don't feel well.  My stomach hurts and I feel like I'm going to get sick."  Just then, the cotton candy vendor walked by.  "Oh, dad, can I get some cotton candy?"  "No, if your stomach is bothering you, cotton candy will probably make it worse."  "Actually, I feel better now."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-4286579304075770335?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/4286579304075770335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=4286579304075770335&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/4286579304075770335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/4286579304075770335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/04/cotton-candy-man.html' title='Cotton Candy Man'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-4636588165535380271</id><published>2009-04-18T02:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T02:11:18.051-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chopsticks</title><content type='html'>Mrs. Scott made Chinese food for dinner, and gave me a pair of chopsticks.  Our two oldest wanted a pair, too.  Our seven year old wanted to try to use them despite my most convincing protest against the idea.  But, he turned the tables and learned to use them decently within ten minutes.  Never trust anybody under thirty.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-4636588165535380271?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/4636588165535380271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=4636588165535380271&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/4636588165535380271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/4636588165535380271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/04/chopsticks.html' title='Chopsticks'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-3346913168846195616</id><published>2009-04-16T22:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T22:52:00.195-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll Wait Until After I Burp</title><content type='html'>Our seven year old in the middle of eating a cheeseburger:  "That's all I'm going to eat right now.  I'll wait until I burp.  Then I'll come back to eat some more."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-3346913168846195616?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/3346913168846195616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=3346913168846195616&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/3346913168846195616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/3346913168846195616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/04/ill-wait-until-after-i-burp.html' title='I&apos;ll Wait Until After I Burp'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-4235773005214675459</id><published>2009-04-15T16:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T16:12:15.756-07:00</updated><title type='text'>From The Back Porch</title><content type='html'>Okay, looking out the other door...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're watching some friends' children right now for a few hours as well as our own.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Lotsa&lt;/span&gt; fighting and name-calling.  Fortunately, I put all the power tools and sharp hand tools away when it rained.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-4235773005214675459?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/4235773005214675459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=4235773005214675459&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/4235773005214675459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/4235773005214675459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/04/from-back-porch.html' title='From The Back Porch'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-1540331849886465880</id><published>2009-04-14T02:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T02:39:59.210-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rubber Arm</title><content type='html'>Mr. Anthony was over this evening, and all the boys took turns hitting his pitching in the back yard after dinner.  It was getting dark, so seeing was difficult.  Even foam baseballs can tire a man's arm to the point of calling the bullpen.  Mr. Scott in relief.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-1540331849886465880?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/1540331849886465880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=1540331849886465880&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1540331849886465880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1540331849886465880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/04/rubber-arm.html' title='Rubber Arm'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-6767314795401803676</id><published>2009-04-11T14:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T20:47:52.175-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Klaus The Tourist</title><content type='html'>Overlooking the city streets of downtown San Francisco on a Sunday morning, I left our fifth floor hotel room to get us coffees from the Starbucks located downstairs at street level. Waiting for my order, I noticed a man and woman sitting at a window bar with a view of the sidewalk. The man had a terracotta leather jacket draped over his chair. It was a European style coat, with white racing stripes stretching down the sleeves. "Tourist" I thought to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The telltale sign was that each had a coffee with the name "Klaus" written on the side of the cup. His female companion had distinct Germanic features. They were tourists. I'm not sure how chivalrous European culture is, or what their relationship was, but Klaus was the one who bought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;European tourists sitting at a Starbucks in San Francisco soaking in the culture from the window. How parallel is this to American tourists sitting at a cafe in Venice overlooking the cobblestone streets? I should go there and ask.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-6767314795401803676?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/6767314795401803676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=6767314795401803676&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/6767314795401803676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/6767314795401803676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/04/klaus-tourist.html' title='Klaus The Tourist'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-5136998232099705443</id><published>2009-04-11T13:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T13:34:08.994-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chips 'N' Sauce</title><content type='html'>Our four year old doesn't use the term "chips 'n' salsa." Rather, he refers to the snack as "chips 'n' sauce."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-5136998232099705443?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/5136998232099705443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=5136998232099705443&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/5136998232099705443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/5136998232099705443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/04/chips-n-sauce.html' title='Chips &apos;N&apos; Sauce'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-1476809480669345815</id><published>2009-04-10T17:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T17:43:00.205-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Almost A Nerd</title><content type='html'>Our seven year old: "Mom, can I get a hat with skulls on it?"&lt;br /&gt;Mrs. Scott: "No, I don't think we should do that."&lt;br /&gt;Seven year old: "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Aww&lt;/span&gt;, mom.  I never get to wear anything cool.  I'm almost a nerd."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, a 7 year old worrying about being a nerd?  This didn't happen to me until 7&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-1476809480669345815?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/1476809480669345815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=1476809480669345815&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1476809480669345815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1476809480669345815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/04/im-almost-nerd.html' title='I&apos;m Almost A Nerd'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-5220282612852079858</id><published>2009-04-09T13:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T13:23:00.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Essential</title><content type='html'>Our seven year old: "I have to go pee. Pee is essential."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-5220282612852079858?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/5220282612852079858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=5220282612852079858&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/5220282612852079858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/5220282612852079858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/04/essential.html' title='Essential'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-8993026425589728228</id><published>2009-04-08T11:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T11:24:48.838-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes, Parents!</title><content type='html'>Mr. and Mrs. Scott together: "Don't play with that."&lt;br /&gt;Our four year old: "Yes, parents."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-8993026425589728228?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/8993026425589728228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=8993026425589728228&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/8993026425589728228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/8993026425589728228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/04/yes-parents.html' title='Yes, Parents!'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-6125048086420250913</id><published>2009-04-02T17:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T17:47:00.408-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No Likey</title><content type='html'>Our 21 month old is learning to speak.  When he doesn't want or like something he starts by saying, "No likey."  The following is an interpretation guide:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No likey mooie" - I don't want to watch this movie.&lt;br /&gt;"No likey deh" - I don't want you to change my diaper.&lt;br /&gt;"No likey tikkie" - I don't want turkey for lunch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-6125048086420250913?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/6125048086420250913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=6125048086420250913&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/6125048086420250913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/6125048086420250913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/04/no-likey.html' title='No Likey'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-1355217823982299006</id><published>2009-04-01T15:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T15:07:48.745-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When Is Daddy Going To Get A New Job?</title><content type='html'>Our seven year old, in a hushed tone: "Mom, when is daddy going to get a new job?"&lt;br /&gt;Mrs. Scott: "I don't know, sweetie.  Why do you ask?"&lt;br /&gt;7 yr old: "Because I want to play computer games."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-1355217823982299006?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/1355217823982299006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=1355217823982299006&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1355217823982299006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/1355217823982299006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/04/when-is-daddy-going-to-get-new-job.html' title='When Is Daddy Going To Get A New Job?'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-9032708694593462474</id><published>2009-03-29T17:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T17:08:00.600-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Buzz Cut</title><content type='html'>Our seven year old wanted a buzz cut, so that's what he got.  Yeah, it's short.  Personally I think he looks better with longer hair (relatively speaking), but it doesn't look bad at all.  Maybe we should let it grow out like is becoming the fad once again.  Seventies, dude!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-9032708694593462474?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/9032708694593462474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=9032708694593462474&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/9032708694593462474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/9032708694593462474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/03/buzz-cut.html' title='Buzz Cut'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-3865289582546323196</id><published>2009-03-24T02:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T02:19:36.232-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hoooooooo!</title><content type='html'>Our youngest has learned his nickname, Hooch.  He yells it out with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;enthusiasm&lt;/span&gt;, "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Hoooooooo&lt;/span&gt;!"  Yeah, mommy and daddy, that's me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-3865289582546323196?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/3865289582546323196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=3865289582546323196&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/3865289582546323196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/3865289582546323196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/03/hoooooooo.html' title='Hoooooooo!'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14993304.post-4103897836068556694</id><published>2009-03-20T18:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T18:33:00.930-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Not A Baby Anymore</title><content type='html'>"Dad, you're treating me like a baby."  So says our seven year old on occasion.  I admit I'm so used to saying "mommy" or "daddy" that using "mom" or "dad", just as he now does, will take some practice.  Especially in mixed company of toddlers and small children of various ages.  Explaining concepts in more adult terms is also something I need to work on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14993304-4103897836068556694?l=fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/feeds/4103897836068556694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=14993304&amp;postID=4103897836068556694&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/4103897836068556694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14993304/posts/default/4103897836068556694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fromthefrontporch.blogspot.com/2009/03/im-not-baby-anymore.html' title='I&apos;m Not A Baby Anymore'/><author><name>Steve Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10297044571819912511</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_av3QROVjYY0/SoPefIMSKGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/7UAslNqo4co/S220/scott_steve_write02.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
