Rachel Callahan

Hopefully When They Arrive, They’ll Be Better Than Mine…

April 4, 2011April 3, 2011 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life, Newbornities, The Blissfulness of Life

Waiting for teeth to come in can sometimes feel like waiting to go into labor.

Not that I look FORWARD to my babies getting teeth.

(Um, ouch.)

But it’s hard not to read into every new baby development and think “that’s GOTTA be due to teeth.”

(Unlike labor, though – there’s nothing to do but WAIT for teeth. You’re not going to accidentally land yourself in the hospital to lie awake ALL NIGHT LONG due to your incorrect assumptions.)

Anyway.

With Ali, since she was such a ridiculously fussy baby, I kept hoping that a tooth would poke through at any moment and take away her rotten attitude towards life.

I spent nine months waiting for that tooth to come through.

(And then, of course, nineteen more teeth followed. and I wondered why in the world I wanted that process to start.)

With Noah, it’s not fussing that makes me think he’s teething (glory hallelujah!!)…It’s other stuff.

Like… the startlingly horrific smell, consistency, and leakishness of his diapers…

(Although that could be due to his maleness…)

…or of his gas that makes me THINK he has a nasty diaper…

(And that could be due to the absurdly large quantities of broccoli I’ve been eating lately….)

And…the fact that in a matter of mere days, he has gone from being a Zero Drool Baby to having such an amazing level of drool that his chin is completely chapped from acting as the rushing rocks on which Drool Waterfall flows…

And especially…his newfound taste for digits.

Not just a taste. He has a Digit CRAVING.

I mean SERIOUSLY. This kid is entertained for hours by my knuckle…

…which is, incidentally, getting very sore.

But maybe it’s not teeth, after all.

Maybe he just finds me magically delicious.

Predict America’s Pick Leaderboard Update!

April 2, 2011 Rachel Callahan Giveaways and Contests

I don’t usually post on Saturdays, but this technically isn’t a post.

(You see, I’m telling myself that so that I don’t feel all pressurey to come up with some great, amazing, deep, insightful, and original commentary on American Idol, the practice of watching television, or of life itself.)

(Not that I ever do, but I always feel the pressure to do so. But not today. Because it’s Saturday.)

Since there was no elimination last week, I didn’t update the leaderboard. And since there were two eliminated this week and they didn’t indicate which had the lower votes, for purposes of scoring, I ranked them both as “11.5”.

I know you really probably don’t care how I managed to make my geeky spreadsheet work out, but I felt compelled to share.

So without further ado, attempts at witteriness, or anything else that’s just not going to work out because it’s a SATURDAY, here’s the leaderboard:

WEEK THREE	Name:	Up/Down From
Rank		Last Week
1	Trish Bogdanchik	0
2	Jennifer Paxton	+6
3	Elizabeth Parsons	+5
3	Diane Haas	+11
3	Lisa	+5
6	Rachel (Me)	-4
6	Lianne Robinson	-1
8	Brandy Bates	+10
9	Patty	+13
10	Amanda Bosque	-5
10	mary	+8
10	Elizabeth Hostetler	-2
10	Greta Carter	+4
10	Mary @ Parenthood	+17
15	Trista Stewart	-1
15	Stephanie Bacon	-13
15	Cara	+3
15	Jennifer	-13
15	Sharon Ivy	-10
15	Rebekah Tarbutton	+12
15	Michelle Brose	+9
22	Brandi Bryant	+9
22	Giann	-4
24	Bethany Kilcup	-16
24	Lynda Del Castillo	+7
26	Leanna McClellan	-2
27	Kitty Engle	+2
28	Shelly Manston	+5
29	Rebecca Moody	-21
30	Elizabeth Keller	-1
30	Kim Barg	-16
30	Lesley Romans	-8
30	Lindsey Murphy	+4
34	Amy Wade	+1
34	Hannah Jo	-10
36	Stacey Hood	+2
37	Lauren	-2
38	Rachel	-1

All Good Things…(or semi-decent things.. or marginally acceptable things…)

April 1, 2011March 31, 2011 Rachel Callahan A Bit More Vulnerable Than I Usually Am, Newsflash, On a more serious note. . .

This past weekend while Chris and I were retreating for our anniversary, we did a lot of planning for the future.

…what we wanted our family to look like over the next ten years…

…how things should change now that we have TWO kids…

…what our priorities should be…

…what was most important to our family.

In our true geeky form, we pie-charted how we were currently spending our time, then did a pie chart of how we WANTED to spend our time.

And there was one especially gigantic anomaly in the usage of our (particularly my) time: blogging.

Between writing posts, taking photos, editing photos, going to events, reading all of your blogs, commenting on blogs, answering emails … I’d be truly embarrassed to tell you how much time I spend in all that blogging entails.

But on the other hand, it’s a part of who I am. I love blogging and (most) everything that goes along with it, and I especially love all of you.

But with all things, I have to look at it for what it is, look at what’s best for our entire family, and make an objective, wise, decision.

And so, even though I’m not sure what life will look like without it (and really, I’m not even thinking about it in depth for fear of changing my mind), I’m closing up shop.

(I can’t believe I’m actually typing that…and I didn’t know that typing something can choke you up as easily as saying it can…)

This is harder for me than I can possibly convey.

The most painful part of this decision is the fear of losing all of you. You’ve been unbelievably wonderful friends, and have been a HUGE part of my (our!) life. I don’t for a second want to lose touch!!! So I’ll still be around on Facebook and Twitter.

Because really – I can’t stand the thought of saying good-bye.

Oh – and also – I hope you all have an awesome April Fool’s Day.

Wedding Vows, a Decade Later.

March 31, 2011March 30, 2011 Rachel Callahan I'm a Glutton for Adventure, Storytime, The Blissfulness of Life

Chris, being the more creative and eloquent half of our marriage, personally wrote our wedding vows. We said those vows ten years ago today, and they were beautiful and meaningful and everything you would want them to be.

But to be honest, I don’t remember a single line from them.

And yes, I asked – neither does he.

But, in celebration of our anniversary, we re-wrote our vows…as to what they could have been…

Chris, do you promise to be the spouse responsible for finding what smells like a dead mouse in the pantry, only to discover a bag of grotesquely old potatoes?

I Do.

Rachel, do you promise to without complaint fix the toilets if Chris doesn’t have time to do so?

I Do.

Chris, do you promise to lovingly and without complaint drive your wife to the emergency room in the middle of the night when she impales her hand while sleepwalking?

I Do.

And again, when she has a gall stone attack?

I Do.

And again, when she has a violent stomach virus for days on end?

I Do.

Rachel, do you promise to sit through endless football games with minimal complaints, regardless of the weather?

I Do.

And even learn a thing or two about the game?

I Do.

Chris, do you promise to allow your wife to lovingly blog about your most embarrassing moments?

I Do.

And willingly agree to assist in live tweeting/blogging the birth of your child?

I Do.

Even if it makes the labor and delivery nurse think that you’re being inattentive to your wife in her greatest moment of need?

I Do.

Chris, do you promise to change dirty diapers in proportion to the number of hours you are home?

I Do.

Rachel, do you promise to pretend to be deeply asleep when a baby cries in the night no more than fifty percent of the time?

I Do.

Chris, do you promise to not laugh, make fun of, be disgusted by, or dance to the rhythm of Rachel’s Breast pump?

I Do.

Rachel, do you promise to lovingly help your husband with his difficulties in matching his clothing, never poking fun at his disease of colorblindness?

I Do.

Chris, do you promise to limit your use of the phrase, “I TOLD you we shouldn’t have gotten a cat!!” to once a week or less?

I Do.

And lovingly and without complaint change the litter box of said cat during or around Rachel’s pregnancies and thereafter because Rachel may never take back over the cat litter duties?

I Do.

And the duties of feeding, watering, treating, and daily petting of said cat?

I Do.

Rachel, do you promise to never dress Chris’ son in smock, seersucker, Jon Jons, white embroidered dedication gowns, or any other clothing that Chris deems unacceptable?

I Do.

And do you promise to allow said son wear overalls with no shirt underneath, even to his baby dedication?

I Do…maybe.

Chris, do you promise to indulge Rachel’s desire for adventure, even if you’re not QUITE as fond of heights as she?

I Do.

Rachel, do you promise to not berate Chris when he opts for Laughing Gas to get one ridiculously tiny cavity filled even though you’ve never gotten the gas despite thousands of cavities and dozens of root canals?

I Do.

Chris, do you promise to drive Rachel to work and pick her up from work daily for six weeks after she has foot surgery?

I Do.

And for six more weeks, after she has a second foot surgery?

I Do.

Chris, do you promise to rush your wife to Labor and Delivery, even if for a false alarm?

I Do.

And again, when she has a false alarm with her second baby?

I Do.

Chris, do you promise to limit your rage and despair to a 24 hour period when you flood the downstairs of your first house, the first night of living there, the first time you ever do laundry?

I Do.

Rachel, do you promise to be patient and mitigate your fear as much as possible as Chris wages long-term guerrilla warfare with Satan the Squirrel, which might include filling the attic with Great Foam, dumping untold amounts of moth balls into the walls, putting peanut butter in the attic, and purchasing poison, a pistol, bullets, and traps in a fit of hatred and malice toward all Squirrels?

I Do.

And not declare him an unfit soldier when Satan the Squirrel chews through the wall and peeks into your shower mid-stream?

I Do.

Chris, do you promise to not react negatively, but comfort your heartbroken wife when she dents her bumper less than two weeks after finally getting her SUV back from getting a brand new bumper?

I Do.

Rachel, do you promise to admit within two weeks that you were the one who scratched Chris’ brand new iPhone?

I Do.

And Chris, do you promise to forgive Rachel for her transgressions, especially since she scratched said iPhone with the marquis-cut engagement ring that YOU gave her?

I Do.

Rachel, do you promise to be a good sport and play along as Chris wholeheartedly pursues “short-cuts” that turn into scenic routes, both on foot and behind the wheel?

I Do.

Rachel, do you promise to play board games with Chris even though his turns last an eighth of your lifetime?

I Do.

Chris, you may now kiss your bride.

The Secrets of Pisgah.

March 29, 2011November 14, 2014 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life, Gorham's Bluff, I'm a Glutton for Adventure, The Blissfulness of Life, Weird Strange and True

So. To celebrate our tenth anniversary (coming up on Thursday), Chris and I went to Pisgah this weekend.

Yes. Pisgah.

But you know what’s weirder than a town named Pisgah?

The fact that there are two towns, in Alabama, named Pisgah.

I discovered this by trying to map my iPhone to our destination. Then I had to Google Map a “From Pisgah To Pisgah” just to prove to myself that it was true:

But nevertheless, the peculiar naming of this town is a great way to keep a secret… this secret:

Astounding, no?

That was taken on the back porch of the Bed and Breakfast at Gorham’s Bluff – and they weren’t exaggerating when they said that they were on a bluff. It was PHENOMENAL.

When we arrived on Saturday, it was storming – and so foggy that we could hardly see the road, let alone the bluff. It was bizarre how completely covered the landscape was. Here’s the same view, except a day earlier:

It was the most perfectly awesome setup for our overactive imaginations…

Remember the movie “Clue” ?

We drove 20 miles deeper and deeper into the woods in the rolling fog, rain, and lightning..

We arrived for dinner in the Lodge – a mysteriously fabulous house to be in the middle of nowhere…

We fought our way through the rain and into the inn, only to be greeted by name, despite many guests arriving that day. How did they know who we were??

The dining room was lively and warm, with a crackling fire in the giant hearth, and a room full of strangers dining at a dozen white tablecloths. The indoor ambiance was significantly nicer than the enshrouding fog, crashing thunder, pounding rain, and eerie lightning outside.

Then, with a crack of thunder and an ominous bolt of lightning, the power went out.

Only for a split second, but it was long enough for our imaginings of a murder mystery to be thrillingly heightened…the old house with it’s wood paneled walls and background jazz was just timeless enough to make us think that at any moment the lights would REALLY go out we’d hear a shrill scream, an awkward thud, and then Tim Curry would appear.

But alas, there were no screams in the dark, no candlesticks, and no Professor Plums. But dinner was wonderful, and extra romantic with the storm raging outside the window by our table.

Although we ate dinner and breakfast at the Inn, we actually stayed in a cozy one-bedroom cottage within the resort:

It was the perfect environment to get away for a day and reconnect, seeing as how we haven’t seen much of each other without an accompanying little person or two for the past few months.

And the dining was fabulous – we got a gourmet boxed lunch that we ate in our cottage,

Had an amazing four-course dinner,

And a delicious breakfast.

The fog, rain, and chilly weather was the perfect excuse to stay in and watch a movie together Saturday afternoon, and Sunday’s clearing let us bask in the amazing scenery, which made the perfect vacationing mix.

We treasured our 30 hours of adult-time, but when we got back, we rolled right back into our kiddo-lifestyle when Chris, in his best Dora the Explorer voice, asked me,

“What was YOUR favorite part of the trip, Rachel?”

Then stared at me, motionless except for his blink-blink-blinking eyes…

“I liked that part too!”

Explosions, of the Peep Variety.

March 28, 2011January 6, 2014 Rachel Callahan Actually Possibly Informational, I'm No Videographer, Investigative Report, Mystery Solved, Weird Strange and True

People are passionate about their Easter Candy Experience.

I had no idea of this phenomenon until I wrote my thesis on Cadbury Mini Eggs, and watched it become my most popular post of the month. But the most fascinating concept that came out of that post was…exploding Peeps.

I knew that Peeps were a well-experimented-on confection – my Mom had told me that in high school, they dunked Peeps in every type of corrosive liquid known to man, and none made the chicks dissolve – with the one exception of stomach acid.

(Which makes me wonder how we don’t always have stomach ulcers… or holes all the way through our bellies.)

But anyway. Exploding Peeps.

Robin and Lindsey both mentioned that the best reason to buy Peeps was to make them explode in the microwave.

Obviously, this was something that absolutely insisted upon further investigation.

So, for the first time in my life, I bought a pack of Peeps.

Yes, Ladies and Gentlemen, I spent an entire dollar on this blog post.

(Donations gladly accepted.)

I introduced Ali, for the first time, to this brightly colored treat that looked just like Gramamma’s REAL chicks, then explained that it would be unbelievable amounts of fun to make them explode.

And after her trauma counseling, I got her to guess how long it would take.

So first, the hypothesis:

(Kindly ignore the mess behind her…we were in the middle of packing to go to Gramamma’s house…to see those real chicks…which really, will have a much more traumatic end than our Peeps.)

Then, the experiment:

So there you have it. It’s more of an “expansion” than an “explosion”, but it was highly entertaining to torture Peeps in that manner.

Plus, Ali and I now TOTALLY know what the inventor of Angry Birds was doing when he got his inspiration for the yellow one…

Because, really, being exploded in the microwave would make me pretty angry, too.

The Poo of Reckoning.

March 25, 2011March 25, 2011 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life, Just My Luck, Newbornities

All photos contained herein are reenactments. The original event was far too graphic and intense to photograph.

It had been three days.

He used to not be able to go three hours without pooing.

I knew that when it finally happened, I was going to be in for it, so I went ahead and started putting him in the next size up of diapers in order to help contain it.

(Please notate that as Mistake #1. Next Size Up = Too Loose To Contain.)

I had just finished feeding him, and it was right before I walked out the door to go to the dentist. My Mom was to arrive any minute to watch the kids, and I was dressed in non-puked-on clothes and ready to go.

I sat him on the couch in the Boppy for just a minute.

He looked at me sideways, then there was a groan, a red face, and then unpleasant noises.

Ali, who was standing nearby, giggled and said, “He’s filling his diaper!”

I didn’t want to pick him up and disturb the contents until the process was complete, so I left him sitting there.

(Mistake #2.)

More groaning. More red face…and then it happened.

With the pressure of a fire hydrant, a waterfall of nightmares began pouring out of the side of his diaper.

Ali saw it spewing forth and sprinted to the other side of the room, yelling as she ran, “I’m going to stay over here so the poo can’t get to me!!!”

I yelped and grabbed a stack of napkins off of the coffee table.

I sopped a gallon of foulness off of couch, and quickly put the napkin stack under him.

Just in time for another eruption.

This was no waterfall…this was a Geyser.

Or a Volcanic Event.

Or Hell opening up and swallowing my living room into it’s murky, seedy, smelly depths.

It overflowed off of the napkins and back to the devastated couch.

There was nothing to do but stare, and hope that it was all a dream…or that my Mom would hurry up and arrive, and I could run out the door, pretending I didn’t see what had just taken place.

I finally unfroze and yelled for Ali to go get me the box of wet wipes. She reluctantly left her place of refuge and brought them to me, stretching her arm out as far as she could to hand them to me so she didn’t have to get too close.

“Don’t use them ALL up, okay Mommy?”

Then she ran back to high ground.

I assessed the damage. I decided the only way to tackle this was one bite at a time.

(SO not literally.)

I wiped the dripping layer off of Noah and prepared him for transport. I carried him at arm’s length to his changing table, leaving the massive disgust of what used to be our couch behind.

I opened up his diaper, half expecting it to be empty based on the volume that defected from it, but no – it was a massive lake. A lake so nasty that it looked like somewhere that Voldemort would choose to hide a horcrux.

I stripped him down and realized…the wet wipes were in the living room.

Yelled for Ali again, thanking God that I had a four year old assistant.

I began sopping up his brown coating. All while he, of course, giggled maliciously.

(Apparently, the combination of wet wipes, a now empty intestinal system, and sticky poo is quite ticklish.)

I left him in his crib, giggling and naked-but-a-diaper, while I went to burn address the couch.

And at that point, my Mom walked in.

And, thankfully, she didn’t walk back out when she saw the massively toxic state of my house and my children.

I finished the HazMat cleanup as best as it was in my power to do so, although I don’t think that our couch will ever feel the same about Noah. It kinda has this whimpering-in-the-corner aura about it now…

Then I rushed out the door to make it to my dentist appointment.

About halfway there, I realized that I never checked my face, clothes, or arms for shrapnel, so I began a mid-drive inspection.

And it was a good thing I did – my dentist would have really wondered why I’d eaten mustard for breakfast.

Yes, Virginia, There is a Miniature Giraffe.

March 23, 2011August 13, 2016 Rachel Callahan "Deep" Thoughts by Rachel, I embarrass myself just for your amusement., Investigative Report, Just My Luck, Mystery Solved, Photographical Oddities, Pop Post, Weird Strange and True

It was at least six years ago…

It was one of those dreams that you wake up wishing you could return to…and that you remember for the rest of your life.

I dreamed that I had a miniature Giraffe.

He came up to my knees. And he was perfectly adorable.

We kept him on our back porch, but he was also house trained. In fact, he was good at going up the stairs, but tended to topple head-and-neck-over-heels when trying to go downstairs.

(Giraffes are not, after all, built like mountain goats.)

Also – it was very important in the dream that he was called a “min-EYE-a-ture Giraffe” – not a “min-ee-a-ture Giraffe”.

Since that wonderful night, I’ve always wanted that min-EYE-a-ture Giraffe for real – after all, Giraffes are one of my favorite animals – I‘ve even been known to let them wrap their tongue around me.

Fast forward to this year’s Super Bowl Commercialathon.

There was a DirectTV commercial, featuring none other than….

A miniature giraffe.

Did you see him??

Was he not as perfectly adorably cute as he was in my dream?

Oh yeah.. you didn’t see my dream. But trust me – he is. They totally stole him DIRECTLY out of my dream.

When I saw the commercial for the first time, I gleefully pointed him out to Chris (who also remembered my dream, since I talked about nothing else but wanting a min-EYE-a-ture Giraffe for weeks afterward), but immediately wrote it off as a camera trick.

Until yesterday.

When, thanks to my friends Kristen and Daniel on Twitter, I discovered the Russian secret that is Sokoblovsky Farms: The breeder of the As Seen On TV PETITE LAP GIRAFFES!!!

Yes, the actually exist!!!

And their web site is fabulous…

You can watch the what the giraffes are doing RIGHT NOW on their live web cam!!

And read the charmingly bad English description of how they created them!!

AND..

AND…

AND!!!

YOU CAN EVEN SIGN UP ON THE WAITING LIST TO GET YOUR VERY OWN LAP GIRAFFE!!

Obviously, I clicked the “I WANT GIRAFFE clicking here” button as quickly as I could, and the following message immediately popped up:

“Congratulations!!! You make 6651 on waiting list for petite lap giraffe. You can expect giraffe in fall 11238! Then you will be most happy. Share greatest news with family on the facebook or tweeter.”

Oh yes! Year 11,238! It will be a perfect present for my…uh…great-great-great-great…grand…child…to the 238th power…

And at that point I realized that Sokoblovsky never asked for my name to hold my waiting list spot…

…and I called the 1-800 number at the bottom of the site to hear a recording of a thick, fake Russian accent tell me about the Lap Giraffes…

And, just like the crushing moment that I realized that Santa Claus wasn’t real, my dreams of there really being min-EYE-a-ture Giraffes in the world vanished in a pit of disappointing despair.

I realized that Sokoblovsky Farms was completely fabricated, and was just a stinkin’ BRILLIANT addition to DirecTV’s marketing campaign.

But for just a minute, they’d convinced me that my dreams had come true – quite literally. But the resulting despondency was totally worth the exhilaration of believing – even if for a moment.

And even if I did win myself the title of “Sucker of the Year”.

A Wedding Story.

March 23, 2011March 23, 2011 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life, Kids: The Experience., Newsflash

I’m back! I had a very nice few days off (aside from yet another attack by the tooth army that lives in my mouth – I swear they’re out to destroy me), but WOW you missed a lot – quite the significant event happened while I was on break!! So it’s time to catch you up…

As a little girl, you dream of your wedding day.

As a parent, you dream of your child’s wedding day … or dread it … or both.

Everyone says that they grow up in a flash, but I didn’t think it would happen THIS soon…

The wedding was a grand affair.

It took place on Tuesday morning in The Ball Room (formerly the dining room) at the Bride’s Parent’s house.

The bride wore a lovely Fleece Nightgown designed by Carter’s. It was a deep chestnut brown that was covered with a beautiful mix of multi-colored flowers. Her reception dress was an exceptional piece from the designer Crazy 8’s – a green and white striped dress, coupled with hot pink bicycle shorts.

Her hair was exquisite – simply fixed, looking as effortless as if it hadn’t even been brushed that morning.

She wore kitten heels in the colors of pink (left foot) and red (right foot), accented with pictures of Sleeping Beauty and Snow White, respectively.

She carried a bouquet of stuffed animals.

(Although the Bride was a sight to behold, unfortunately, no photography was allowed until the reception – to prevent tabloid exposés, most likely.)

The groom was her long time “Party Friend”, Samuel.

Samuel has been her most enduring Party Friend – possibly the first she ever met. He appeared in the Bride’s life around the time that a little girl begins making up pretend friends to accompany her in her life journey.

(Also around that time, the word “Pretend” can be easily confused with “Party”, and the misnomer can stick around for quite some time.)

Samuel originally moved into the Bride’s neighborhood in the house of the Bride’s across-the-street neighbors, Freddy and Christie. Although they were oblivious to his residence, He was the quintessential (pretend)-boy-next-door for Ali.

But just a few weeks ago, he moved again – into the Pink Hippo of the Bride’s Hungry Hungry Hippos game. it was at that point that their friendship blossomed into a romance, and quickly led to marriage.

The wedding was attended by the Bride’s brother Noah, mother Rachel, and great aunt Kitty. There was only one member in the wedding party – the newest Party Friend, Serious Witch.

Serious Witch was wearing a full-length black dress, and did a lovely job of holding the bouquet while the Bride said her vows.

The reception was a fabulous occasion that was catered by Lunchables, and was attended by all of the guests…

(Grooms in photo may appear more invisible than they actually are. Or just as invisible as they actually are.)

(As is also the case with Serious Witch.)

Because the wedding came about so quickly, the attendees didn’t know even what the Groom’s last name was until the couple was announced as Husband and Wife. But fortunately, the Bride DID know and was quickly able to tell the Minister.

So I would like to invite you all in saying congratulations to the new couple…

Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Blankby.

And now I suppose I will be getting Party Grandkids soon…

Thomas and the Big, Big Problem.

March 22, 2011March 22, 2011 Rachel Callahan Utter Silliness

Originally published September 12, 2009.

Ali is still in love with Thomas.

And call us immature, but Chris and I can’t help but get the giggles when we are reading or watching it with her and Thomas’ whistle comes up.

I know, I know, the writers are British, and across the pond, cookies are biscuits and bathrooms are loos. But seriously – how many times can you use the word “toot” and not expect us to laugh?

“Thomas tooted with joy!!!”

“Thomas tooted and he tooted and he tooted some more, but he just couldn’t work up any steam.”

“Thomas saw Percy coming around the bend, so he worked up all of his energy and tooted as loudly as he could at him to warn him of the danger ahead!”

Obviously, Thomas has an issue with flatulence.

But Thomas has been around a while now and is getting old, and sometimes, those sorts of problems turn into much bigger ones.

We were over at my parent’s house, and they had a Thomas book I’ve never seen before. When Mom read this next page, I had to stop the story-telling and ask if she had just made that up. I seriously could not believe my eyes when I saw this one:

Oh, Thomas. Lucky for you, the Knapford Station Gift Shop sells Tank-Engine-Sized Depends.

Maybe they could help you with that problem at the crap scrap yard?