Bedtime Stories

The scene begins with Jessica scrunched into Ben's toddler bed with him.

"Mom..."

"Yes, Ben."

"I wanna snack."

"No more snacks. It's time for sleep."

"Ohhh.... Darnit."

A few moments pass.

"Mom..."

"Yes, Ben."

"Tales... and Bob da damatoe fall down. hehehe. Dat Bob so funny. I wike Tales."

"Ok, Ben. Momma's going to get her pajamas on and go to bed."

"No, Mom! No jammas! You stay here wear pants!"

"I love you, nigh-night, sweet dreams."

"Wuv-oo, Mom, nigh-night."

A Case of Mistaken Identity and Mistaken Gender

Sundays create a sense of restlessness for Ben. Sure, the comfy maroon chairs in the back of the chapel are fun for a little while, but he often needs something a little more engaging. Fruit snacks and goldfish crackers usually do the trick, but yesterday he wanted an adventure.

As we roamed the halls, we searched for treasures under a Christmas tree, and we hunted lawn gnomes in rooms 117 and 116.

As Sacrament Meeting drew to a close, we made our way to the nursery for a bit of tom-foolery. Another individual walked toward us from the other end of the church, but a glare from a nearby glass door obstructed our view.

"Oh, look!" cried Ben. "It's Grandma!" As we walked closer to the individual, Ben and I realized that it was NOT Grandma. "Oh, it's a guy," Ben shouted when he realized his error.

I didn't know how to respond to his assertion, and neither did the 16 year-old girl who was mistakenly called "Grandma" and subsequently "a guy."

She whole-heartedly glared at me when I said, "Oh, come on now, little boy. Let's go find your Daddy."

...and so it begins.

So, there I was... sitting at the computer on a homework-riddled Wednesday night. Ben was in bed despite his best efforts to the contrary.

As I wrote about the relationship between management practices, creativity, and innovation, Ben began to cry for me.

"Day," he inquired. ("Day" is a combination of Daddy and Jay... the two names by which I am commonly known.)

To Ben's chagrin, Day did not respond. As such, the youngster continued his lamentation.

"Day, come here" quickly turned into "Day, come here, please." When his attempts to woo me with pleasantries failed, he turned to other methods.

"Day, come here right now!"

I chuckled a bit, but with each new cry, I noticed how the word "Day" sounded more and more like the word "Die." Indeed... I could sense that something diabolical was in the works.

Ben continued to cry, and each new attempt to draw me into his room was met with stone cold opposition.

Here's how I see it: When it's bedtime, it's bedtime. Structure, order, and consistency are the pillars upon which something very noble is perched. I am a stern father, but I am not heartless. Ben knew my weakness... and he exploited it.

"Day... I poopy!" he called... repeatedly.

Having no desire to subject my child to a sleepless night in a desecrated dipe, I charged into his room to remedy the situation.

As soon as I entered his abode, the shouting turned from "Day, I poopy" to "Day, watch Diego."

I smelled something rotten, but the scent did not originate within the polka-dotted, Target-brand, size 5 diaper.

Indeed... When I examined the contents of the diaper, I found something much more sinister.

Lies... That's what I found, folks. Lies...

As I re-applied the sticky tabs of Ben's unused diaper, the look on his face seemed to say, "Oh, sorry, Day... My mistake. I guess I wasn't poopy after all. Perhaps we should watch Deigo together for a few moments before retiring for the evening."

Although I maintained a stoic facial expression as I returned Ben to his sleeping quarters, a chuckle escaped my lips as I called Jessica to tell her what "her son" just did.

Escapades in Counting

Jay: "Ben, how many toes do you have?"

Ben: "One... two... three... four... P... R... W... X... Y... TEN!"

Jay: "Yup, that's right!"

Isn't that great?! My kid knows how to use algebraic variables! I didn't learn stuff like that until I was in 7th grade!

Twinkle, Twinkle

Ben's musical debut displays a variety of skills: range, memorization, improvisation... skat... There's also a little bit of singing in there, too. Well done, kiddo.

Growing Up

...and now... the moment some of you have been waiting for... BEN'S BIRTHDAY CELEBRATION!

Something Grand is Coming...

Sports Pictures and Movies Needed!!!

Dear Turner Family,

As part of my movie-making endeavors, I need tons of pictures/videos of your kids (or yourselves) engaging in sports-related activities. Here's a sample of what I've been doing so far.

Two Year-Old Attitude

For our Family in Distant Places...

A Ruling by the Judges

The rules were clearly stated...

The track was clearly marked...

Each participant was instructed to run to the far side of each flag.

Upon further review, the judges have determined that the actual winner of the Grandkid Grand Prix is "TO" Tosha Turner in the #11 car. As you will notice in the video, she is the only one who ran to the far side of the flags.

Congratulations, Tosh.

Bath time

Plastic green cup, you're the one. You make bath time lots of fun...

Stories from the Ben

Earlier this week, The Ben and I were enjoying some much needed recreational time while Mother was away at Target. During our 9-hole golfing excursion -- Wii Sports Resort, Classic round -- The Ben and I shared a delicious pouch of fruit snacks. (...and by "shared," I mean, "He ate while I watched.")

When The Ben was finished with his fruit snacks, he crumpled the pouch in his wee hands, walked from the living room into the kitchen, opened the cupboard below the sink, and lightly placed the crumpled pouch in the garbage can. Amidst my cheering, he realized that the cupboard was still ajar. Before turning to celebrate with me, The Ben turned toward the cupboard and promptly closed it.

One might ask, "Why were you cheering and celebrating?" Well, let me tell you. You see, men are slovenly folk... at least, that's what I'm told. My boy, The Ben, has the guts and the fortitude to fly in the face of stereotypes and be his own man. That takes passion and determination in a world where everybody expects everybody else to act in a prescribe manner. I also celebrated because I can gain some serious brownie points by using The Ben's services to clean the house while Mother is away. ;)

Let it Snow

This video is a mixture of Turner and Whiting Snow Days. I'll tell you one thing: those kids are resilient.

Late Show Audition Tape

Look at the range of emotion -- the joy, the laughter, the extensive vocabulary, and the pain of picking one's nose too vigorously. Ben has it all, and he's not afraid to show it. Watch out, Leno. This kid has the potential to take your job (and subsequently get kicked off the air when you want your show back).

The Real Balloon Boy

Last weekend, Grandma and Grandpa Whiting thought it would be a good idea to give the grandkids some balloons. Ben quickly learned to say "boon" whenever he saw, heard, smelled, or even thought about a balloon. Furthermore, it took 90 minutes of screaming, crying, and repeating the word "boon" before Ben eventually fell asleep on Saturday night. Here are the highlights of the weekend.

No parents or legal guardians were incarcerated before or after the exploits of this balloon boy.

Ben and the Sled

On cold winter nights, as children nestle into the crooks of their parent's arms, they often hear the Tale of Ben and the Sled. The story goes like this:

One day, Ben rode a sled and almost killed Thayne. The End.

Unfortunately, the words of the story hardly convey the seriousness associated with the tale.

As such, I have included a video.