Ewwwwww...

I'm sorry, but THIS is NOT attractive.  Less time in the gym, more time eating steaks and fries, please.

Grasshoppers!

As if George the Cat's close and personal relationship with the fish weren't enough (he insists on drinking the water out of the bowl. Can you imagine what goes through a fish's head when a cat's huge head looms into its home and starts licking?), he has now taken to bringing large bugs into the house to play with. This is the third large green visitor I've had this week. He tortures them, carrying them in his mouth, then letting them go, batting them with his paw, and they invariably hop wildly and very far, usually towards me. This does not make me happy.

Bragging rights

Okay, so I try not to brag.  I like to tell about how my sons are growing and learning, and how beautiful I think they are.  I mean, everyone thinks their kids are smart and beautiful, and not everyone necessarily wants to hear another parent going on and on and on about said beauty and smarts.  But I was actually astonished by something Ewan did today, and I really wanted to share.  Technically, I'm bragging on his behalf, because it's certainly not my accomplishment.   He has been practicing sounding words out for a while now, and we'll be in the store, and he'll randomly tell me what package says, or the title of a book.  Usually pretty easy words.  And lately, he's been "reading" some of his Thomas books to me, but it's 99.9% memorization.  I've been curious how much he was actually reading, versus memorizing, but he's heard all of his books so much, it was hard to tell.  Well, we got five free books off of a cereal box offer, and up until today, he wasn't interested in having them read to him at all.  Tonight he picked one of them as part of his usual three bedtime stories.  First I was reading to Fynn, while Ewan sat quietly looking at his books.  Keep in mind, I have NEVER read this book to him, it's called Things that are Most in the World.  I looked over from my perch with Fynn, and Ewan was READING that book.  Really reading it.  He got stuck on a few of the bigger, strange words (like "teensie-weensiest) but otherwise he read that book all to himself.  I almost fell out of my chair.  We showed him long ago how to sound things out, almost on a whim, and not expecting him to catch on yet, and haven't worked with him much otherwise.  This is something he has largely taught himself.  I am so proud of him, and it literally made my day.  

Maybe not

I've been talking so much about how I want a girl, and now I'm just not so sure.  I was looking at my niece's MySpace page, and in her "About Me" section, every other sentence is "I'm sexy.  I'm still sexy.  Look at me, I'm so sexy."  Um, no, you aren't.  You are fourteen.  Why is a fourteen year old so wrapped up in how sexy she is?  What is this culture we live in?  I want a girl, I really do, but I think I'll have to be sedated in order to raise her without having a heart attack.

For fun

I saw this in Reader's Digest, and for some reason found it hilarious. It actually made me laugh out loud when no one else was in the room with me.

Spare me

If my family was on the news or in the paper every time this happened growing up, we would be major celebrities. Talk about your fifteen minutes of fame.  How does this stuff make it on the news?  All the same, I hope the wee little feline makes it out okay.  Then he can come live with me.

What is the world coming to?

I just had it on PBS KIDS for a few minutes, and they played a Barney commercial. Barney and those brats were singing "I Just Can't Get Enough" by Depeche Mode. My ears are bleeding. The desecration!

The anti-happy list

I've been extremely grumpy and hormonal to the worst degree of my life over the last few weeks. And sure, I could post a happy list to try to look on the bright side of things. But I'm going to take the opposite tack and put down the things that really ticked me off today. Perhaps if I see them in print, I'll realize how ridiculous I am for being ticked, and will feel better...? Or at the very least, try to be amused at what ticks me off.

1. I broke my red cat.
2. I almost killed my fish.
3. Dang it, I broke my red cat instead of killing my fish.
4. Thank goodness my fish is okay.
5. Bryce didn't get me the much needed Coke I asked for on his way home. Grrrr...
6. But Bryce worked until nearly 9:00 tonight, so maybe he has a good excuse. Although, dang it, he worked UNTIL 9:00. And there are no signs of that letting up...
7. I feel like I'm going to barf up a bag of half-digested dog food. Mind you, I didn't eat dog food, but that's what it feels like I am going to throw up.
8. My back hurts. BAD. Carry me.
9. Tomorrow I have to get up and exert myself.
10. And right now, I have to exert myself to get into bed. Carry me.
11. Did you see? The red cat? I broke it.
12. Ewww, dog food.
13. Speaking of dogs, where the heck is mine?

But I'll add one more #14, just to look on the bright side. And trust me, this is a very bright side:
14. A certain crazy I know can never look at my blog again. You don't need the details. Suffice it to say, the figurative sun will never go down with this little reality. See, I feel better already.

P.S. My jeans don't fit, can I have yours?

Very very very clumsy Kelli

Alas, it was not to be. And it's all my fault. Even Fynn is better around the breakables in this house than I am. Leave it to me to try to move a large piece of baby equipment next to a small table with precious ceramic cats on it.
I am so very sad. Meep. As mentioned before, this belonged to my grandmother. and it was so fabulous. So, which is appropriate to say? "Thank goodness it wasn't the fish?" or "If only it had been the fish?" (To view the kitty in all its former glory, click on the link above.)

Easter eggs and mud pies

I actually had something good and funny to write about, but as I sit here posting these pictures, my mind has gone blank. So maybe, just maybe, there will be a grand total of TWO posts today! We had a good Easter, Bryce and the boys went to his mom's house for some steak, while I got some much needed rest. Then we all went to my parent's house for fried chicken and saw my brother's family again for the first time since they moved to Arizona. Ashley and gang were all there, and my niece Regan as well. It was a lot of fun, the kids especially had a blast together.
Bryce chose to name our Easter egss some interesting things. Belle is his nickname for me, then there's Fynn, Ewan and even Iris because we're hoping for a baby girl. But, of course, he couldn't forget to name one for the Wii.

Getting down to dirty business.

I had put some cream on his face for a rash he has, and the combo of that cream with the dirt he was getting into made for an interesting paste.

The scientist.

Before I ever had kids, and thought about having them, this is one of the things I always pictured, a little boy squatting in the grass looking at flowers. *Sigh*

Mommy feeds me healthy snacks! (Hint, those aren't carrots.)

This is what he does all day, be it inside or out in the dirt. Squatting or laying down, pushing trains around, making them crash, inventing stories about them...


And, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MARY ANN!!! Thanks for everything you do for us!

I've never loved something so much in all my life.

A fitting last tribute to Black Apple before I go private. Next time I have money to burn, this will be hanging on my wall:
That quote? That quote is amazing. If you can't read it, it says, "If there is no love in the world, we will make a new world and give it heavy walls."

Birthday party

Okay, so this totally has nothing to do with this post, but I had to share. I'm sitting here at the desk, on which sit two of our fishbowls. I kept hearing a very light "tap, tap" on glass. I look up to finally see one of my fish, the one we call Stuart, tapping its mouth on the glass in my direction. Over and over again, and loud enough that I'd swear he had teeth. Then it would stop and stare at me. I usually feed them at night, so I suppose he was impatient. Now that's he's fed, he's swimming around happily. Cool. He communicates.

Okay, to get off of that tangent, today was Ewan's birthday party, and he had a really good turnout. He had lots of friends and family over, and received a king's ransom of Thomas the Tank Engine stuff. I kind of feel bad, because Fynn was totally shafted on his birthday - I didn't plan the party well enough among other things. I know he's only one and doesn't know the difference, but it's the principle of the thing. Next birthday for him is gonna be AWESOME. Thanks to everyone who came and showed Ewan so much love. We appreciate all of you and you made it such a wonderful day for him. Anyway, after the party, Ewan and I went on a date to see Horton Hears a Who. We had a lot of fun, and here are some pictures from the party. (I did have some more cute ones of his other friends, but wasn't sure if their mothers would want me publishing their pictures on here. So I'll e-mail some to those moms whose kids were there.)
Playing with his cousins, Hayden and Chloe, whose hair looked totally red in all the pictures by the way. (I'll send them to you, Ashley.)

The cake. Ewan loves when they crash, so I made it crash in the chocolate. The effect was especially genuine seeing as I actually dropped it into the cake.

He was so excited about "Mighty Mac."

Pizza, picnic style. The kids had a blast just running around and being free on this gorgeous day.

Try again?

I realized that a large amount of my legitimate e-mails have been going to my bulk folder and have been deleted.  I'm afraid I may have missed some e-mails from people wanting to be invited to my blog.  If not, no biggie.  But, if your name is not listed below and you did send an e-mail, please try again and I'll be sure to get it this time.

Erica, Shannon, Sarah, Julie, Amber, Cheree, Ashley, Mubeen, Betsy, Vanessa, Elisa, Amy, Shellie.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, EWAN!!!

Holy cow, I can't believe I'm the mother of a FOUR YEAR OLD. Happy birthday to my beautiful, smart, hilarious, and precocious boy.

This is where Bryce was and what he was doing while I was wheeled down the hall for an emergency C-section. He actually is green. Thank goodness for Ashley, or I would have had a total panic attack.

And since Ewan totally can't read this, I'm going to spill that we got him his first bike for his birthday, with a Thomas helmet and knee pads. Too bad he's in such a grumpy mood today...

I'm with the band

I really am taking a semi-break from blogging. I still love to do it, but right now I'm actually having success at my Internet fast, which is why I've been MIA. And I'm not even trying, it's just a total lack of desire to surf the 'net or blog or anything, really. I'm quite sure that I'll be back in full force at some point. That being said, when something truly "blog-worthy" pops up, I will be posting. Such as this shirt I just found for Fynn at Kid to Kid:
Now, I admit, I don't know The Ramones music. I'm sure I'd recognize a song here or there, maybe more than I realize. (The fact that the bottom of this shirt says, "Hey Ho! Let's Go!" and I know what song it is tells me I'm not as ignorant about it as I think. But I also know that's a much-played song...) But seriously, how was I supposed to pass this up. And the kid has the hair for it. Although something about the black and white stripes with red trim calls to mind mowhawks and men with black eyeliner. Anyway, it's cute, will probably fit for five minutes, and will certainly seal the deal that my kids are hipper than me. I always knew they would be.

Yes, I'm back...

... but I'm afraid my blog is dying a slow death.

Later, dude.

We'll be missing in action for two days, heading to Austin.

Mom?

Things I've been horrified to hear coming out of my mouth since Ewan started preschool:

1.  "HOP UP!  You don't want to be late for school!"

2.  "Tell me what you want for breakfast, I'm not sending you to school without food in your belly."

3.  "You are NOT wearing THAT to preschool."

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CHANMAN!!!

I totally stole these pictures off of Chandler's MySpace page, but since I technically am the photographer for the first one, I'm entitled.  Happy birthday to the boy who changed all of our lives.  You are awesome, and I love you more than you know.  

Not so way-back Wednesday

I'm running out of old pictures and need to get some more scanned.
I think this was my sophomore year. The lack of hair-brushing and Clearasil frightens me.

Senior Walk. I think this is a Texas thing. You have a "date" or partner (I barely knew this guy) and join each other on stage and they announce your name and - I can't remember - but maybe what you were involved in as well. In my case, they would have said something like "Kelli _______. Thespians. And attendance. Most of the time. But not happily. And why aren't you wearing a bra?!"

This is about a year after I had a personal crisis and cut all of my hair off to about an inch long. Growing out nicely, hmm? My sister Amy is the one right in front of the door (wearing an odd updo?). Some of you from my ward may recognize Christy to the left of me.

Confessions of a harried, sleepy mommy

I'm feeling a bit ornery and irreverent tonight. It's been an interesting 24 hours for me, the details of which I'll spare you. Because, trust me, it's NOT interesting.

We started our day by going to story-time at the library. Ewan loves it, although he does get a little overwhelmed at times by the very loud zeal with which the librarian, a man, reads the stories. He particularly is intimidated by the stuffed iguana puppet that Mr. Bob takes around the room to nibble on the fingers of the wee ones. Today we were running late, and I got myself a bit frazzled trying to get the kids out the door on time. So when we had stepped three steps into the children's section in the library and Ewan refused to go one step more, I was more than a little perturbed. I tried gentle, loving persuasion at first, but when that didn't work, I resorted to idle threats. "Ewan," I said, oh so calmly through my teeth, "if you decide to go home right now, and this was a wasted trip, I will never, ever again bring you to story-time. No matter how much you ask me or beg me, we won't ever come again." To which he grabbed my hand, walked to the staging area, and a grand time was had by all. Especially the very loud Mr. Bob.

Afterward, because Fynn's hair grows at warp speed and is so thick that I've been considering auditioning him for a Pantene commercial, I took him for a hair cut. The lady who cut his hair was seriously one of the nicest people I have ever met. So we had a nice chat while she cut his hair and I casually debated internally over her sexual orientation.

Then we went to McDonald's. (Yes, Bryce, we did. We really did.) And on to Sarah's for some spur-of-the-moment chatting. When we came home, I was so pooped (sleep deprivation due to this awful bug I can't quite shake...) I went into a vegetative state on the couch. I was excited when Fynn discovered the box of leftover chicken nuggets in my purse because it meant he would be occupied. For the rest of the night, I've found random pieces of chicken nuggets around the house, including one fully intact that came spilling out of my purse while I was digging for change. (For what else but a Coke?) Add to the nuggets the chunk of waffle Fynn carried around for an hour after my lazy breakfast-for-dinner, and the dog had quite a feast to Hoover up when I let her in.

Just felt like sharing.

Laying low a bit

Wow, it's been pretty boring over here lately, huh? I don't have a lot to say right now, so I'll just update you on what's been going on.

It was a pretty good weekend - Hunter and Chloe were baptized, which was awesome, and I'm so happy for them and Ashley. Amy & Jesse were in town for that, so we had this huge family dinner at a restaurant on Saturday night. I won't even get into the nightmare that preceded the dinner, but once we were seated with some food in our bellies, all was mostly well. (Except for my parents, whose order never made it to the kitchen...) On Monday, Ashley and I had an awesome excursion to IKEA where I did not resist the temptation to get Ewan some more trains and a new track to push them on. I also got one of those rugs for his and Fynn's room with the roads all over it, like a little city. Fynn picked up a piggy bank and a stuffed guinea pig or hamster or something. So we had lots of fun, Ashley being like a kid in a candy store. Or a man in a nudie bar, take your pick. Ewan had a blast running from set-up to set-up. Then we all had a nice lunch. It was a good day.

But when I got home, we had news that Bryce's grandmother had passed away. She was 97 years old, and has been in decline for a while. I'd like to do a post about her soon, because she was a really cool woman, but I want to get some more little details first. We''ll be heading to Austin on Thursday for the funeral on Friday.

*This paragraph has been removed for security reasons. ;)

I'll be doing the official privacy blog thing next week, and if I approved you (which I have everyone, except one. And they know why.) you'll get an e-mail when it happens.

Going private

For reasons known only in my heart, I have decided to go private with my blog.  Please send me your e-mail via comments (and I'll put on comment moderation so no one sees your e-mail) and I will invite you.  If there is anyone out there that I do not know that reads this, and you would like to continue to (hopefully not flattering myself) please leave a comment and a little about yourself (so I know you aren't a crazy) and I'll consider inviting you, too. 

R.I.P. Wilma

See that big tree? I've just this very moment named it Wilma. It resided in our front our yard, and was a major selling point for the house. It has housed a family of woodpeckers, held my birdfeeders, given us shade, a resting place, provided a ladder for my cats to the roof, as well as a place for them to nap. About six months ago, that large branch behind Ewan's head fell down for no apparent reason.
Then two weeks ago, Bryce walked outside to find the trunk was splitting down the middle. The only thing keeping that branch on the left from falling to the ground was that it had cradled itself up against another branch. We're pretty sure a fungus was killing it slowly, and after consulting with a man with a tree company, decided it needed to come down. Meep.
The boys stood here for twenty minutes and watched the men work. Motionless. Riveted. Fascinating stuff, you see.
I thought they were leaving me some height of trunk. I was wrong.
But Fynn had fun playing on it.
The funereal shot.
We are sad. Meep, Tree. Meep, Wilma.

Grrrr...

I have a post I have been trying to publish since last night, with some pictures, and it's not working. I'm totally bummed, but I promise something is pending...

Cuteable find of the week...

Love, love, love this stationery:
Found at that adorable Made in Pixieland shop on my sidebar.

Name Game Tag

Ashley tagged me for this, should be pretty self-explanatory, and some work out better than others:

1. YOUR ROCK STAR NAME (first pet, current car): Lady Avalon
2.YOUR GANGSTA NAME (fave ice cream flavor, favorite type of shoe): Cookie Dough Mary Jane
3. YOUR NATIVE AMERICAN NAME (favorite color, favorite animal): Green Cat
4. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME (middle name, city where you were born): Nicole Grand Prairie (although I always thought this was middle name, and childhood street. In that case, Nicole Hawthorne. Better.)
5. YOUR STAR WARS NAME (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 of your first name): Tayke
6. SUPERHERO NAME (2nd favorite color, favorite drink): Purple Coke
7. NASCAR NAME (the first names of your grandfathers): John Arthur
8. STRIPPER NAME ( the name of your favorite perfume/cologne/scent,favorite candy): Rose Toffee
9. TV WEATHER ANCHOR NAME (your 5th grade teacher’s last name, a major city that starts with the same letter): Blackwell BostonA
10. SPY NAME: (your favorite season/holiday, flower): Autumn Iris
11. CARTOON NAME: (favorite fruit, article of clothing you’re wearing rightnow) Orange Socks
12. HIPPIE NAME: (What you ate for breakfast, your favorite tree): Pancake Willow

Oh, yeah, I tag Sarah, Shannon, and Jenny.

Eat your heart out, Shannon!

Mmmmm... chili. Had to go to the store for those derned spices...

Fast-food fast? Not so fast!

What a good little wifey/mommy I was this evening. Or started to be.  All day long I had been thinking of a nice steaming pot of hot chili for my family on this cold, cold evening. My mouth was watering for it as I browned the meat, and began to simmer it with some diced tomatoes and beans. I went to my spices to find my cumin and chili powder. Hmmmm.... they didn't appear to be there. I dug around, still nothing. And I've made chili recently enough to KNOW I have some little jars of the blessed stuff. Now, lately, I've been a little under the weather and sleep-deprived, so my emotions are a little out of whack, and not being able to find the spices, forgive the expression - but it really pissed me off. I took apart all of shelves, looked under and behind the fridge. I looked up in the medicine cabinet, and basically tore my kitchen apart. Nothing. And really, in the grand scheme, no biggie. I know.  So, yeah, I packed the kids in the car and we went to Chick-fil-A.  So sue me.  Yeah, I could have made my concoction into something else, but I'm certainly not a creative cook, and I hate to cook anyway.  The best part about this is when I was on the phone with Bryce telling him where I was going, he began to fuss at me, griping about how I couldn't even last a week.  And then, without one trace of irony in his voice, these actual words came out of his mouth, "...I mean, I had Pizza Hut for lunch, but - "  I did not let him speak any further.  And his claim that it was "only two pieces" didn't help his case any.  

Fast-food fast, rewind, restart, and go!

Amen, sister!

I've been a really crappy, moody, hormonal friend of late, and completely forgot to publicly thank Shannon for this awesome plate she got for me.
How awesome is that?!  And so, so true.  I love it, and I want you to know, Shannon, I had my last take-out meal on that plate before our take-out fast.  Thanks for thinking of me, you are a great friend.

Way-back Wednesday

Mini-me

I call this the dinosaur smile. Specifically T-Rex.

Not too way-back, 2000 at my sister Amy's wedding. That's Amy, Chandler, me and Hunter. I can't believe how young they are. I had just met Bryce the night before, and he came to this reception, alone, just to see me. Good times.

Martha, anyone?

Okay, so I'm an ignoramus. When is the Martha Stewart show on, and on what channel? My beloved Black Apple Emily is going to be on it on the 11th! I really want to watch that. It's not on cable, is it? I don't have cable...

Indulgence and Abstinence

Bryce and I decided to bite the bullet and finish painting tonight. If we hadn't done it, it would be sitting partially done for months. It went a lot better and faster tonight, as we had a very special, short helper:
He had fun, and ended up with surprisingly little paint on him, considering.

Bryce and I were able to get a lot of projects done over this little vacation of his, and I am so excited! But one drawback of all this "hard labor" is that over the last few days, we'd look up and realize it was nearly 6:30 and we had taken no thoughts for dinner. It has been a fast-food fest, and we feel disgusting. So not only for financial reasons, although that is a big part of it, we are going on a complete "fast food fast" for the entire month of March. It seemed to come to Bryce in a moment of inspiration during our family prayer. We are going to make it a matter of prayer and faith, to see how much better we feel at the end of the month, much like Daniel's challenge to Ashpenaz. This is going to be difficult for both of us, since he has more late, late nights ahead of him. When he's at work late, they often buy him take-out, and when he works late, I often don't want to cook! Plus, I do love my fries. But we're determined, and hopefully this can be the start of a life-long change.

My heart walking outside of my body

Last week I enrolled Ewan in a real, live preschool.  He will be attending twice a week for three hours.  I did this because he is so bright, and because he seems to be completely bored out of his mind here at home with me.  He plays better by himself than ever, often inventing, narrating and acting out Thomas the Tank Engine stories with the few trains he has, but he still gets very bored. I wanted him to be around some different kids close to his own age, and have some structured activities and learning experiences.  We were participating in a "co-op" preschool with some mothers in the ward that met once a week.  That worked really well for awhile, but lately it just hasn't been panning out as well, and I felt Ewan needed more of a classroom setting.  Today was his first day, and can I tell you how strange it felt to leave him there? Just the oddest, unusual feeling.  And there was a minor battle with the teacher about whether or not he should be in the four-year-old class.  He turns four on the 20th, and I know all moms say this, but he really is very smart and is beyond anything they would do in a 3-year-old class.  After a little back-and-forth between the teacher and I, she agreed to try it for one day.  He was ecstatic to go, and ecstatic to have me leave.  I've just never left him with anyone other than a babysitter I trusted as much as myself.  It helped that Natalie was there, and that I watched Shannon leave her, so I know everything is okay.  But still, it was just surreal and kind of sad.  Like I'm pushing him out into the real world.  I know, I know, I am totally melodramatic.  

I have rare time to myself because Bryce took Fynn to his follow-up appointment with the orthopedist in Fort Worth.  So I think I will curl up with a good book and perhaps some Coke.  (At 9 in the morning?!  Not really, but I thought about it.)  But first I think it's time to go have a good cry.

I hate painting. No, really I do.

Bryce worked so many hours the last few weeks, he took two days off so we could get some stuff done around the house. Project Number One was painting. We were originally going to have a "painting party," but Fynn's accident put off our plans, so we had to do it in the middle of the week. So it was just me and Bryce; Sarah watched the boys for us (thank you). I had a minor heart attack at first because the color was waaaaaaaayyyyyyy too bright and dark. But we were able to lighten it with some white paint Sarah gave us (again, thank you), and the result was nice. We still have at least one more wall to go, but here is my favorite wall where I was able to hang up my newest prints from Christmas and my birthday. We may actually have a painting party to finish the rest, perhaps after Ewan's birthday party, which is rapidly approaching.

That red cat belonged to my grandmother, actually given to her by my parents. I love it so much, and I think it looks so good there next to the fish bowl. However... I highly doubt either one can stay there, due to a little midget who lives with us who goes by the name of Fynn. He has a penchant for destroying shiny things. And who am I to put an innocent little fish in the line of danger?

No title will do this justice...

This may not mean anything to most of you, but it certainly means a lot to me.  For a little background, I began writing little stories from the moment I could print.  I even have a story somewhere that looks like Egyptian hieroglyphs because the print is so poor.  It's about a farmer who can't find the pig to make his bacon for breakfast, and after a frantic hunt around the farm, decides he'll just have pancakes instead.  (Apparently I wanted to be a part of PETA when I grew up.)  My grandmother in particular was very supportive of my desire to write, buying me scrapbooks in which to keep my stories.  One of my big regrets is that thus far in my life, I haven't fulfilled her dream for me, and my dream for myself.  I am still in the midst of the longest bout of writer's block ever, as I say often.  

Recently, Ewan will start talking nonstop; usually it's a story about Thomas the Tank Engine. The plots will get pretty complex, and so I'll ask him where he saw the episode or the book that the story came from.  Several times he has told me, "Nowhere, I made it up."  Then yesterday I had the movie "Becoming Jane," which I was going to watch later, and he asked me what it was about.  I told him it was about a lady who wrote stories.  I further explained, "All the stories I read to you, someone made those up in their head and wrote them down for all of us to listen to."  His face lit up, and he became very excited.  And then he told me, "That's what I would like, to be a writer."  My heart went all pitter-pat, then lodged itself in my throat as I told him, "I would love that."

He's just never expressed any thoughts or desires about what he would someday like to be, and the look on his face showed me he was very serious, and very excited that that was something he could actually do.  And I believe someday he will.