Betting

While in Utah in April, Eric and I made a friendly bet on whether a particular store had been in one mall or the other.

Well, let me give you a little history on our betting record. I do NOT bet on something unless I'm 99.9% sure I'm right. Which means? I'm right. I'm always right.

For example, I adore this great man named Henry B. Erying. So I pay particularly close attention to stories that are told about him or his family. A story was recounted about his Father, as a young boy, crossing the Border from Mexic0 back to the United States. The border potrolman asked, "Do you have any pornography?" To which he replied, "Sir, I don't even own a pornographer."

So Eric tell me he thinks that story is about Joseph Fielding Smith. I say, I disagree. A bet insues. I win a 5 lb. bag of Hot Tamales.

#2. The bag of Hot Tamales is LONG gone. Eric is being silly and quoting from Disney's Beauty and the Beast. He believes the interchange between the Candle and the Duster goes as follows, "I've been singed by you before." I disagree. It is "I've been burnt by you before." I get another 5 lb. bag of Hot Tamales.

So, I think it brave of him to bet on whether Deseret Book at been in the Crossroad Plaza or the Zions Center. We walk into the current Deseret Book and ask. I immediately start jumping up and down, high fiving everyone I see. Why? Because I had bet potty training Hyrum. Could there be a better bet in the world? I think not.

Well, it was a foolish bet, because unless your husband can take a week off of work, who ends of potty training? I do. But not to worry, Hyrum was a piece of cake. Eric does insist the he got him emotionally ready for such a big event by giving him daily pep talks while I was still in Utah. If that is true, I need a pep talk for staying on top of the laundry.

So I potty train Hyrum but while doing that laundry thing it is becoming apparent that the toilet paper is not being used to its fullest potential. So at an opportune moment I ask Eric to give some appropriate instruction on the fine art of wiping. I can hear him in the bathroom instructing away: I can hear things like "wad" "reach" "wipe".

The next day I walk into the bathroom. I see Hyrum. He's just gone to the bathroom. He is standing in front of the toliet, holding an imaginary wad of toliet paper, wiping himself with his clothes ON.

I cannot resist. I dial Eric at work and ask, "So when you taught Hyrum how to wipe did you have him practice with his clothes on? Did he actually have toilet paper?"

"Umm. . ."

Further instruction was given. I think for making it through the whole ordeal I should get a few Hot Tamales.