<?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'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474170225027819271</id><updated>2009-11-10T03:46:33.091-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Adam's Blog</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09898760621765305672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>78</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474170225027819271.post-6303129667011327974</id><published>2009-03-01T15:47:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T16:23:03.481-05:00</updated><title type='text'>More Weather Reports from Buford, GA</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-3393c91769bb6ebc" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param 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href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/2009/03/more-weather-reports-from-buford-ga.html' title='More Weather Reports from Buford, GA'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09898760621765305672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00150313294741176793'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474170225027819271.post-216914268301157844</id><published>2009-03-01T14:17:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T15:43:49.600-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Snowing in Georgia...</title><content type='html'>...and here is your Action News &amp;amp; Weather Team to report it:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-f05a002d6bda903c" 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height="266" src="http://www.blogger.com/img/videoplayer.swf?videoUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvp.video.google.com%2Fvideodownload%3Fversion%3D0%26secureurl%3DqAAAADjB7cieHmVEItu-JNF4-KIcTn-noJzSdwR3ntpBBh3ZPPxNSHmUo91IDBChUe5NPaN5VtvJSfpnMJ7cJqPuwRPV308Ea4_zVNr0LPAMMFyUBO982TLfVewSiKWediakAuD2iLLkfzhFVedepwIBMMKIXZ353kI31CbNYJoBEEwdchD8q4QsJWwM7aszCXZ6I7aFUAADUosEmBsKYmguMSf2TISrW1NBn-9HcHIAEImd%26sigh%3DphBxRiR1ichqxFRZvo8W9mmiZj0%26begin%3D0%26len%3D86400000%26docid%3D0&amp;amp;nogvlm=1&amp;amp;thumbnailUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvideo.google.com%2FThumbnailServer2%3Fapp%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Df05a002d6bda903c%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw320%26sigh%3DDKikJNY83ISMfW0hYs0dKDl66yQ&amp;amp;messagesUrl=video.google.com%2FFlashUiStrings.xlb%3Fframe%3Dflashstrings%26hl%3Den" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4474170225027819271-216914268301157844?l=adamjmcanally.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=f05a002d6bda903c&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/feeds/216914268301157844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4474170225027819271&amp;postID=216914268301157844' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/216914268301157844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/216914268301157844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/2009/03/its-snowing-in-georgia.html' title='It&apos;s Snowing in Georgia...'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09898760621765305672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00150313294741176793'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474170225027819271.post-1737800830509006726</id><published>2009-01-11T20:37:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T21:39:03.322-05:00</updated><title type='text'>When 36 years you reach, look as good, you will not.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/SWqtGNYm_fI/AAAAAAAAAWU/BbgEVukv1Rc/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290231034483768818" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 120px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/SWqtGNYm_fI/AAAAAAAAAWU/BbgEVukv1Rc/s200/untitled.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This weekend I decided it was time to start training Emily in the ways of the force. This weekend SPIKE ran the original 3 Star Wars movies. We started slowly. Saturday Night she came into the den just as Han Solo was cutting open the Tauntaun to shove Luke inside to save him from the cold on Hoth. This immediately grabbed her attention. So I took this opportunity to introduce her to some of the characters: Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, Princess Leia, See Threepio (C-3PO) and Chewbacca.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Next she heard Chewbacca talk and we had this exchange:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Emily: "Daddy, what did he say?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adam: "I don't know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emily: "But what did he say?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adam: "Emily, he is a wookie and doesn't speak English so I don't know what he said."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emily: "Well, what language does he speak?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adam: "I don't know, he speaks wookie-language, I guess."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emily: "Well what did he say?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Author's Note: Get ready, here is where I step right into it.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adam: "HOW WOULD I KNOW?!!! DO I LOOK LIKE A WOOKIE TO YOU?!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emily: "uh, yes"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;That ended the lesson for that day. In all fairness, I had not shaved in about a week (working from home has its advantages). In any case, I think when it comes to Emily:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"The Force is Strong with This One"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sunday we watched some more and went over who are the good guys and who are the bad guys. I want her to love the original 3 movies before I break her heart by letting her watch those awful prequels.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4474170225027819271-1737800830509006726?l=adamjmcanally.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/feeds/1737800830509006726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4474170225027819271&amp;postID=1737800830509006726' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/1737800830509006726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/1737800830509006726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/2009/01/when-36-years-you-reach-look-as-good.html' title='When 36 years you reach, look as good, you will not.'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09898760621765305672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00150313294741176793'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/SWqtGNYm_fI/AAAAAAAAAWU/BbgEVukv1Rc/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474170225027819271.post-4629555798125622748</id><published>2008-12-24T12:59:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-24T13:02:35.271-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pictures with Santa 2008</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283418179006864882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/SVJ410-LnfI/AAAAAAAAAV0/LsS8uKifoBM/s400/DISCOVER_20081224_000071.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/SVJ5IEb6awI/AAAAAAAAAWE/98NSp0fU2R0/s1600-h/DISCOVER_20081224_000073.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283418492395744002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/SVJ5IEb6awI/AAAAAAAAAWE/98NSp0fU2R0/s400/DISCOVER_20081224_000073.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/SVJ4_QCcAXI/AAAAAAAAAV8/1Lw8GtrfULI/s1600-h/DISCOVER_20081224_000072.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283418340891296114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/SVJ4_QCcAXI/AAAAAAAAAV8/1Lw8GtrfULI/s400/DISCOVER_20081224_000072.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4474170225027819271-4629555798125622748?l=adamjmcanally.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/feeds/4629555798125622748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4474170225027819271&amp;postID=4629555798125622748' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/4629555798125622748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/4629555798125622748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/2008/12/pictures-with-santa-2008.html' title='Pictures with Santa 2008'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09898760621765305672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00150313294741176793'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/SVJ410-LnfI/AAAAAAAAAV0/LsS8uKifoBM/s72-c/DISCOVER_20081224_000071.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474170225027819271.post-5812664339429093063</id><published>2008-12-15T10:02:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T10:22:18.476-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Joy to the World Part 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/2007/06/joy-to-world.html"&gt;Click Here for Part 1&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am now sure that both my girls are going to have great taste in music when they grow up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, I got an MP3 player for my birthday and loaded all my favorite music on it.  Now &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt; we get into the car the first thing they say is, "Daddy, don't forget your MP3 player."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then yesterday when we got back from church, Emily said to me, "Daddy, I was really excited when they said we were going to sing JOY TO THE WORLD at church today but it wasn't the 'Jeremiah was a bullfrog' song."  I told her that there was no accounting for taste.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4474170225027819271-5812664339429093063?l=adamjmcanally.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/feeds/5812664339429093063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4474170225027819271&amp;postID=5812664339429093063' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/5812664339429093063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/5812664339429093063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/2008/12/joy-to-world-part-2.html' title='Joy to the World Part 2'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09898760621765305672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00150313294741176793'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474170225027819271.post-8621862768087155837</id><published>2008-12-04T20:33:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-06T19:03:30.568-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Thank You Song</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-867a67ec681ac0bf" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" 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src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4474170225027819271-8621862768087155837?l=adamjmcanally.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=867a67ec681ac0bf&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/feeds/8621862768087155837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4474170225027819271&amp;postID=8621862768087155837' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/8621862768087155837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/8621862768087155837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/2008/12/thank-you-song.html' title='The Thank You Song'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09898760621765305672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00150313294741176793'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474170225027819271.post-8456508261077645837</id><published>2008-12-03T13:31:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T13:51:32.304-05:00</updated><title type='text'>All I Want for Christmas...</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-d6e0af2a2b2de89b" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" 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src="http://www.blogger.com/img/videoplayer.swf?videoUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvp.video.google.com%2Fvideodownload%3Fversion%3D0%26secureurl%3DqAAAABjzXX0P2a8vxnDt-OvRPGBlg4bLKPXXqNpbfytmkVcSXbcJrsHdojYtHz_Z-ep8SpVzqOWHnUFNrXTcB48EedACYvmY_QBYltak4mmVbCZaBUehKVttWWm-60B6YkSqvCC8nu9esrUCV9pT2il3XIuXNSYw11gAY9EWJf7pWKGk5dCg-AhJPLO7--9lzKbCfTH9x6S9pJCMD1aV9x4QMGgcvbl1dpr2buTxHhutagMi%26sigh%3Dwm5Q1FvmXKK08Ivb2v2nP3uZwXU%26begin%3D0%26len%3D86400000%26docid%3D0&amp;amp;nogvlm=1&amp;amp;thumbnailUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvideo.google.com%2FThumbnailServer2%3Fapp%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dd6e0af2a2b2de89b%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw320%26sigh%3DK3EL7oTnHlTm4tAl1Q-S1lLbr3g&amp;amp;messagesUrl=video.google.com%2FFlashUiStrings.xlb%3Fframe%3Dflashstrings%26hl%3Den" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4474170225027819271-8456508261077645837?l=adamjmcanally.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=d6e0af2a2b2de89b&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/feeds/8456508261077645837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4474170225027819271&amp;postID=8456508261077645837' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/8456508261077645837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/8456508261077645837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/2008/12/all-i-want-for-christmas.html' title='All I Want for Christmas...'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09898760621765305672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00150313294741176793'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474170225027819271.post-1737445010728517495</id><published>2008-06-16T12:47:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T13:06:35.784-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Good Husband’s Guide to Potty Training</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;In my last post, I told you that we have started potty training Jillian. Just like the 5 stages of grief (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance), I believe that there are 5 stages of potty training:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1. Reasoning:&lt;/strong&gt; You think, “hey, my kid is smart. I can just tell them the benefits of using the potty, a little practice, and potty training will be done.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I know what you are thinking – “Isn’t this Adam &amp;amp; Missy’s second child? Shouldn’t they have known better?” And you would be correct to think that, but when you’re in the heat of battle I think you tend to try and stay optimistic even when you really know better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. Peer Pressure:&lt;/strong&gt; This is like an extension of reasoning but a little more desperate. You start pointed out to your child all of the people that use the potty and don’t wear diapers. “Com’on, all of the cool kids are using the potty!!! Don’t you want to be a really cool big kid?!!!”&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Okay, Now really know what you are thinking, “if reasoning didn’t work, why would they think that this work?” But with your second child you are even more susceptible to actually thinking this might work. Your second child absolutely worships the first and wants to emulate everything that they do so why wouldn’t it work for potty training. In our case, Jillian did want to emulate Emily by sitting on the potty but that’s where it ended. This made the situation even more frustrating because we spent a lot of time sitting by the potty with Jillian but nothing would happen. Then 5 minutes after you put her diaper back on, Jillian was ready to be changed again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3. Bribery:&lt;/strong&gt; By now you start to realize that the reason that your first two strategies did not work is that not being potty trained is actually a pretty good deal. At this age your child is old enough to ask for a diaper change when it starts to hang too low or get too heavy or just feel plain icky. Having your diaper changed whenever you want is like your own personal spa treatment several times a day. But before you decide that since you couldn’t beat them so you might as well join them and start shopping for Depends, you decide that it’s time to make potty training a little more rewarding by offering a bribe for using the potty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This strategy may have worked back when we were kids. Back then life was pretty tough. On a good day, you could get four TV channels and as a kid, you just lived for the hour and a half of children’s television that was broadcast each day (1 hour of Sesame Street and ½ hour of Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood). Little girls spent their days praying that the clothes line would break to they could have another jump rope and little boys would scour the neighborhood looking for sticks and limbs that they could pretend were guns so they can play War or Cowboys &amp;amp; Indians. So back then if you could earn a nickel, dime or quarter to use the potty, that was a pretty good deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;But these days, kids have it too easy for that. About a dozen kids channels with 24-hours-a-day children’s programming. And don’t get me started on DVD players!!! Kids don’t even have to wait for the videotape to rewind anymore. Gone are the days when kids learned to walk by pushing the lawn mower in neat rows. So what is a quarter or a dollar bribe to the kid that already has everything? Nothing, so don’t even bother. Just move on to stage 4.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4. Up the Level of Discomfort:&lt;/strong&gt; Up until now potty training has been your problem not your child’s problem. You have tried reasoning, peer pressure and bribery in order to get your kid to take ownership of this problem but to no avail. Now it’s time to make life a little less comfortable for those in the household that are not potty trained. For instance, implementing a rule that everyone has to wear big girl panties (or big boy underwear) during waking hours. Diapers and pull-ups pull the moisture away from the skin and keep your child comfortable but this is certainly not the case when they are wearing cloth underwear and they have an accident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few things to keep in mind, during this stage of the game. First, you will need a lot of changes of underwear. Second, keep the child off of anything that don’t want soaked in bodily waste like rugs, carpets, etc. Also, you need to be a little bit of hard-ass during this stage. Your child will be uncomfortable and upset during this stage and probably ask for their diaper or pull-ups but you have to stay strong and know that it’s for the greater good to get through potty training. And finally, stay close to home during this phase. Your child’s bladder is about the size of a snow pea so when they have to go they really have to go right away and putting your child in a diaper to go out will only send mixed signals and create more set backs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5. Acceptance:&lt;/strong&gt; Let’s face it the first 4 stages were really just gimmicks and like most gimmicks they didn’t really work or only had limited success. So now its time to just accept the fact that it’s going to take a lot of time and hard work to get through this important time in your child’s life and for them to learn this critical life skill. You resign yourself to take your child to the potty every 20 to 30 minutes regardless of whether or not they say they have to go. After a few days of running to the potty a couple times an hour things will start to click.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you have it, that’s my take on potty training. This time it only took Missy and I about 2 days to get through the first four stages and now we are in stage five and things are starting to click for Jillian (with Emily it took us about 2 weeks to get through the first four stages so we have improved). A successful visit to the potty usually results in Mommy, Daddy and big sister applauding and cheering. Jillian has started to let us know when she needs to go tinkle so we don’t have as many forced visits to the potty. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212523973813765746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/SFaa7-JghnI/AAAAAAAAAOY/dHFkQvd59CQ/s400/reading.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Stage 1: "Hey Jillian, sitting on the potty is a good time to catch up on your reading."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212524981448854898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/SFab2n4bzXI/AAAAAAAAAOg/PDzEVaqlB0g/s400/singing.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;And singing?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212525566926917922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/SFacYs9SESI/AAAAAAAAAOo/8wz-jvNioXw/s400/potty-training.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Stage 5:  Acceptance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4474170225027819271-1737445010728517495?l=adamjmcanally.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/feeds/1737445010728517495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4474170225027819271&amp;postID=1737445010728517495' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/1737445010728517495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/1737445010728517495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/2008/06/good-husbands-guide-to-potty-training.html' title='The Good Husband’s Guide to Potty Training'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09898760621765305672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00150313294741176793'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/SFaa7-JghnI/AAAAAAAAAOY/dHFkQvd59CQ/s72-c/reading.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474170225027819271.post-8735948108866850702</id><published>2008-06-05T11:50:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T14:34:58.355-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Notes</title><content type='html'>1. Since working from home, I have started watching the Sopranos on A&amp;amp;E and I really like it. We don't have HBO, so this is the first time that I am watching. I watch the episodes that come on every day and the episodes that come on Sunday nights. The daily episodes are older and the&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/SEgwi-kDvqI/AAAAAAAAAOA/raIY2IkYyPg/s1600-h/sopronos.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208466346521902754" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/SEgwi-kDvqI/AAAAAAAAAOA/raIY2IkYyPg/s200/sopronos.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; weekly episodes are much more recent, so sometimes I get confused. I should really just watch the daily episodes to get caught up, but I can't resist watching it whenever it comes on Sunday Nights. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. Have you ever noticed on Biography (either on A&amp;amp;E or on the Biography Channel) that you can always tell when the subject person's last spouse comes into the picture? For instance, pick a random movie star and no matter how sleazy this movie star was, whoring around and cheating, that when the last spouse comes into the picture, the people being interviewed start talking about these loftier notions of true love and how much they were meant for each other. The person could be a total sleazebag for the first 70 years of his or her life, but when they finally met &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/SEgwsekDvrI/AAAAAAAAAOI/ZL0HsL3F4PY/s1600-h/untitled.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208466509730660018" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/SEgwsekDvrI/AAAAAAAAAOI/ZL0HsL3F4PY/s200/untitled.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;that last person that was 1/3 of their age then it was true love!!! I feel like throwing my shoe at the TV screen and shouting, "OF COURSE HE NEVER CHEATED ON THIS WIFE!! HE'S 85 YEARS OLD!!!" I don't want to name names, but I am sure that you have all seen those episodes. Person falls in love, gets married, cheats, gets divorced. Falls in love again, gets married, cheats, gets divorced. This goes on and on until the person is in his 80's and finally hooks up with a young chippie. All of a sudden, the friends being interviewed start gushing about how happy they are that this guy finally found the right woman to settle down with. Are you kidding?!! I always feel sorry for those earlier spouses because they never come out very good in these Biography Specials. Am I alone, or does that bug you too?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. Quick update on the kids: They are doing well, but fighting constantly. I think it's normal, but it doesn't make it any less frustrating. Jillian is the instigator and Emily usually takes the bait. It usually doesn't get violent, maybe a small shove every once in a while. For the most part, it's usually just some yelling and foot stomping. The other day was funny because Jillian took a jump rope that Emily was playing with and when I told Emily to let me handle it she said, "No, I'm going to get in her face!!!" I know it's bad, but it caught me by surprise and I had to turn away and laugh. I don't even know where she learned that expression! It took a second for me to regain my composure and handle the situation. On another note, we started potty training Jillian, which is also very frustrating. Hopefully, we'll get through this before she goes back to preschool.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/SEgxLekDvsI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/E2BOmzTzcRI/s1600-h/emmy&amp;amp;jilly-from-behind.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208467042306604738" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/SEgxLekDvsI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/E2BOmzTzcRI/s400/emmy%26jilly-from-behind.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4474170225027819271-8735948108866850702?l=adamjmcanally.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/feeds/8735948108866850702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4474170225027819271&amp;postID=8735948108866850702' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/8735948108866850702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/8735948108866850702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/2008/06/random-notes.html' title='Random Notes'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09898760621765305672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00150313294741176793'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/SEgwi-kDvqI/AAAAAAAAAOA/raIY2IkYyPg/s72-c/sopronos.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474170225027819271.post-5266475251261972208</id><published>2008-05-28T09:01:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T09:01:31.400-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Proud Parent Moment</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/YWnUmpQhiOw' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/YWnUmpQhiOw'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I am sure that every parent has that special moment when they are singing lyrics to a commercial jingle and their child joins in the singing. For some parents it was, "wouldn't you like to be a pepper too?" for others it was, "my bologna has a first name". In my case, I was cleaning up the kitchen and mindlessly singing the FreeCreditReport.com commercial when Emily jumped in and started singing along with me. I was shocked that she knew the words to the jingle but in hind-sight I really should not have been shocked knowing how much Emily loves pirates.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4474170225027819271-5266475251261972208?l=adamjmcanally.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/feeds/5266475251261972208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4474170225027819271&amp;postID=5266475251261972208' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/5266475251261972208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/5266475251261972208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/2008/05/proud-parent-moment_9048.html' title='Proud Parent Moment'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09898760621765305672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00150313294741176793'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474170225027819271.post-1169717417680040434</id><published>2008-05-25T13:31:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-25T13:53:40.461-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey, Remember Me?</title><content type='html'>Okay, so I fell off the blogging wagon for a few months. I am not going to devote any more blogging time to beating myself up over it. The important thing is that I am back and I hope to be able to post a lot more often from now on. Let’s spend the next few paragraphs catching up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;New Job:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;I started a new job on April 23rd. I still work for the same company but now instead of working at a shop in the trenches, I am working from home as a corporate headquarters guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;strong&gt;o-ver-head&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;(adv. oh-ver-hed; adj., n. oh-ver-hed)&lt;br /&gt;-noun&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. the general, fixed cost of running a business, as rent, lighting, and heating expenses, which cannot be charged or attributed to a specific product or part of the work operation. &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have become what I have despised all these long years. I am the guy that calls and emails the people that are doing the actual work and demands that they send me information so that I can do my job, while at the same time insisting that I am a valuable contributor - which is sometimes a hard case to make to the people that are at the shop or on a customer site while they can hear my kids playing in the background or Maury announcing to some woman on the TV that the 19th man that she has brought on his show is not her baby-daddy. Note to self: kick the kids out of the office and turn off Maury before making phone calls. Maybe I can just mute Maury instead of turning him off completely? Then I can tell from everyone’s reaction whether or not the guy is the baby-daddy then I can have my cake and eat it too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, moving on:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Good Movie: &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/SDmkKRZwuOI/AAAAAAAAANg/VOirQ51JfBA/s1600-h/200px-Junoposter2007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204371340780419298" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/SDmkKRZwuOI/AAAAAAAAANg/VOirQ51JfBA/s200/200px-Junoposter2007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;I saw a great movie yesterday. It was called &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Juno_(film)"&gt;Juno&lt;/a&gt; and it was really good. I was crying from the time Juno filled Bleeker’s mailbox with orange Tic-Tacs until the end of the movie. The music in the movie was also great. I’ve already said too much. If you have not seen it yet then you need to go see it now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/SDmkuBZwuPI/AAAAAAAAANo/r6KygiX47Rw/s1600-h/Darcy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204371954960742642" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/SDmkuBZwuPI/AAAAAAAAANo/r6KygiX47Rw/s200/Darcy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Good Book:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;I am still on my Pride and Prejudice kick. Now I am reading &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mr. Darcy Takes a Wife&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; and I love it. It’s like a combination of the classic original Pride and Prejudice novel and Penthouse letters. Interesting characters that stay true to the original Jane Austen novel, but at the same time they have lots and lots of graphic sex. Right now, I am about 2/3rds of the way through - but, do not fear!  My parents already bought me the next book in the series, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Darcy &amp;amp; Elizabeth: Nights and Days at Pemberley&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Kids:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;The kids just finished the school year. Emily finished her forth year of pre-school and Jillian finished her first. Of course, Emily had a pre-school graduation ceremony to celebrate the end of her pre-school experience. I thought the whole thing was pretty silly up until I saw my oldest daughter coming down the aisle in cap and gown to the tune of &lt;em&gt;Pomp and Circumstance&lt;/em&gt;. I have to admit that was pretty special, and the teachers and staff at the pre-school deserve a lot of credit for making the whole event very memorable. Emily starts kindergarten in mid-August. Both kids are going to try gymnastics this summer, and if that goes well, then they we will probably sign them up for the fall season. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204372466061850882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/SDmlLxZwuQI/AAAAAAAAANw/ij9kmR3SSWc/s400/emmys-class.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4474170225027819271-1169717417680040434?l=adamjmcanally.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/feeds/1169717417680040434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4474170225027819271&amp;postID=1169717417680040434' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/1169717417680040434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/1169717417680040434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/2008/05/hey-remember-me.html' title='Hey, Remember Me?'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09898760621765305672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00150313294741176793'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/SDmkKRZwuOI/AAAAAAAAANg/VOirQ51JfBA/s72-c/200px-Junoposter2007.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474170225027819271.post-1233005775357426370</id><published>2008-01-29T14:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-29T14:59:37.660-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Good Wife Quiz</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/R5-FXpy_y2I/AAAAAAAAANY/Hf5V-S-r918/s1600-h/Skills-Center.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160990339393112930" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/R5-FXpy_y2I/AAAAAAAAANY/Hf5V-S-r918/s200/Skills-Center.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay now it's the ladies' turn to take a simple one-question quiz:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. You are very busy getting yourself ready to go to work and the kids ready to go to school and your husband yells up the stairs, "HEY, HOW COME YOU SWITCHED US TO 1% MILK?" Here is a list of possible answers:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;a. LOOK IN THE MIRROR, FATTY!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;b. Because I love you and I want us to be as healthy as possible so we will both live in wedded bliss as long as possible.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;c. Because the 1% milk has a pink cap and the kids wanted the milk with the pink cap so I have been buying 1% milk ever since.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;-&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;-&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;-&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Correct Answer: c&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;a. This may cause your husband to go into a shame spiral. When we are in a shame spiral we feel frozen and blank. Can you recall a time when someone has made a joke about you that 'hits you in the ego'- that somehow triggers a sense in you that you are not OK as you are - you feel ashamed, go blank, and become unable to respond. We brace ourselves to create a state of virtual non-emotional existence, where we don't feel very much at all...blah blah blah... &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It's just mean!!! Don't say that!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;b. Unless you are a newlywed, your husband probably won't believe this and think that the real answer is 'a' anyway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;c. This is a nice, believable, harmless lie. Although it is important to ensure that you pick the correct color for your brand of 1% milk.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Author's note: The above quiz is based on an actual conversation that Missy and I had this morning. She responded with the answer 'c' and I was satisfied until I went to the refrigerator and saw that our 1% had a &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;GREEN&lt;/span&gt; cap!!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4474170225027819271-1233005775357426370?l=adamjmcanally.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/feeds/1233005775357426370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4474170225027819271&amp;postID=1233005775357426370' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/1233005775357426370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/1233005775357426370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/2008/01/good-wife-quiz.html' title='The Good Wife Quiz'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09898760621765305672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00150313294741176793'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/R5-FXpy_y2I/AAAAAAAAANY/Hf5V-S-r918/s72-c/Skills-Center.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474170225027819271.post-3314127639172167553</id><published>2008-01-27T21:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-27T21:51:57.918-05:00</updated><title type='text'>If a Tree Falls in in the Forest and the Only Person there to see it is Jillian...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/R51DD5y_y1I/AAAAAAAAANQ/dsWUvNaZtS0/s1600-h/DSCF3470.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160354482369842002" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/R51DD5y_y1I/AAAAAAAAANQ/dsWUvNaZtS0/s400/DSCF3470.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Jillian Elizabeth McAnally&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4474170225027819271-3314127639172167553?l=adamjmcanally.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/feeds/3314127639172167553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4474170225027819271&amp;postID=3314127639172167553' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/3314127639172167553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/3314127639172167553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/2008/01/if-tree-falls-in-in-forest-and-only.html' title='If a Tree Falls in in the Forest and the Only Person there to see it is Jillian...'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09898760621765305672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00150313294741176793'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/R51DD5y_y1I/AAAAAAAAANQ/dsWUvNaZtS0/s72-c/DSCF3470.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474170225027819271.post-1075391120428805815</id><published>2008-01-27T20:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T09:05:43.141-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I am a Bad Blogger</title><content type='html'>I know that I am a bad blogger because I have not blogged anything in over a month. In fact, the only reason that I am blogging now is so that I at least get one entry in for the month of January 2008. So let's kick things off with some random notes and maybe the creative juices will start to flow for February:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. We drove to Long Island, NY for the week between Christmas and New Years. We downloaded the driving directions from AAA and they sent us through Manhattan (Holland Tunnel then the Manhattan Bridge). Usually we drive through Staten Island (Goethals Bridge then the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge). At first we were skeptical but since it would be the day after Christmas we decided to give it a shot. The worst thing that could happen is that we would spend a couple extra hours on the road but at least the girls would get to see some NYC skyscrapers. It actually turned out to be one of the nicest drives through NYC that I have even done. It was quick and we were able to show the girls a few sites like the Brooklyn Bridge and Chinatown. I will never doubt AAA again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. While we were at my parent's house Emily picked up a new addiction. My mother had some &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scooby-Doo"&gt;Scooby-Doo&lt;/a&gt; videos and Emily watched them everyday up in NY and every day since returning from NY. Scooby-Doo was always one of my favorites (only the pre-Scappy episodes of course) so I approve of this particular addiction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. One of my favorite parts about weekends at our house are the stroller races. Every weekend after breakfast the girls load up their strollers and tear around the house at break-neck speed. Sometimes I participate as a fellow racer. Most of the time I am the announcer, referee and timekeeper. Emily usually plays full-contact stroller racing so as referee, I need to make sure she does not body-check Jillian too hard into the walls. Of course, it does not help that every time that Emily laps Jillian, I, as the announcer, pretend that Emily has fallen behind Jillian(when she is actually several laps ahead). Here is a picture of the last round of stroller racing. This one was special "Princess" version of stroller racing:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160348203127655234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/R509WZy_y0I/AAAAAAAAANI/h5jZWz0wyWU/s400/DSCF3313.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Driver: Princess Emily w/ passenger Smoovdah&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Driver: Princess Jillian w/ passenger The Cat in the Hat&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4474170225027819271-1075391120428805815?l=adamjmcanally.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/feeds/1075391120428805815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4474170225027819271&amp;postID=1075391120428805815' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/1075391120428805815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/1075391120428805815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-am-bad-blogger.html' title='I am a Bad Blogger'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09898760621765305672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00150313294741176793'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/R509WZy_y0I/AAAAAAAAANI/h5jZWz0wyWU/s72-c/DSCF3313.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474170225027819271.post-7725684095964907167</id><published>2007-12-23T09:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-23T09:38:01.448-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pictures with Santa</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;Here are the pictures of the girls with Santa Claus:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5147175625094651522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/R25w9cpQ3oI/AAAAAAAAAMw/npTDuJ1lxW4/s400/santa%26both-girls2007-cropped.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Above:  Santa with Emily &amp;amp; Jillian (Christmas 2007)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5147175788303408786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/R25xG8pQ3pI/AAAAAAAAAM4/1ftonezD_do/s400/santa%26emily2007-cropped.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Above:  Santa &amp;amp; Emily (Christmas 2007)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Below:  Santa &amp;amp; Jillian (Christmas 2007)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5147175990166871714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/R25xSspQ3qI/AAAAAAAAANA/K-5cM6URTaU/s400/santa%26jillian2007-cropped.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4474170225027819271-7725684095964907167?l=adamjmcanally.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/feeds/7725684095964907167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4474170225027819271&amp;postID=7725684095964907167' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/7725684095964907167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/7725684095964907167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/2007/12/pictures-with-santa.html' title='Pictures with Santa'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09898760621765305672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00150313294741176793'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/R25w9cpQ3oI/AAAAAAAAAMw/npTDuJ1lxW4/s72-c/santa%26both-girls2007-cropped.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474170225027819271.post-6254367477193575333</id><published>2007-12-15T10:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-15T15:32:45.185-05:00</updated><title type='text'>No More Weekend Snoozing</title><content type='html'>Let me give you guys another peak into life at our house on Saturday mornings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 AM: On weekends, since my body is still use to waking up early, I usually wake up early and make my way to the TV room couch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5:30 AM: Following 30 minutes of channel surfing, fall back to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8 AM: Missy and the girls gradually start to wake up and join me in the TV room for some Saturday morning cartoons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8:30 AM: Missy takes a big stretch and announces to the rest of the room that she is going downstairs to start cooking breakfast. Since the girls first instinct is to follow their mother, I am left alone in the TV room to take a quick snooze on the couch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9 AM: Missy sends Emily upstairs to inform Daddy that the coffee is ready and that he needs to come downstairs. Daddy says, "okay, go tell Mommy that I am on my way." Emily runs downstairs to give Mommy the message.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9:15 AM: Missy sends Emily back upstairs to inform Daddy that the coffee is STILL ready and that breakfast is now also ready. Daddy says, "okay, go tell Mommy that I am on the way." Emily runs back downstairs to give Mommy the message.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9:30 AM: Missy sends Emily back upstairs to inform Daddy that the coffee is STILL ready and that breakfast is now getting cold. Now that Daddy has gotten a full extra hour of wonderful weekend snoozing, it is time for him to get up and make his way downstairs to his well deserved breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least that is the way that is used to work up until recently. Now here is how it works at my house on the weekends:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything is pretty much the same until:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9 AM: Missy sends Emily upstairs to inform Daddy that the coffee is ready and that he needs to come downstairs. Daddy says, "okay, go tell Mommy that I am on my way." Emily runs back to the top of the staircase and shouts, "MOMMY, DADDY SAYS HE'S ON HIS WAY!!!" Then she turns and runs back into the TV room and continues attempting to wake up her father. Realizing that he has been defeated, Daddy rolls off the couch and starts heading downstairs for coffee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not sure how this has happened. Was it a well coordinated, evil plan perfectly executed by Missy? Or is Emily just getting old enough to realize that she can't trust her Daddy to get up on a Saturday morning? Or has some of my laziness finally started to come through in my daughter in that Emily doesn't walk all the way back downstairs to deliver a message but instead just shouts the message from the top of the stairs? Or is it a combination of the three?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4474170225027819271-6254367477193575333?l=adamjmcanally.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/feeds/6254367477193575333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4474170225027819271&amp;postID=6254367477193575333' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/6254367477193575333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/6254367477193575333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/2007/12/no-more-weekend-snoozing.html' title='No More Weekend Snoozing'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09898760621765305672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00150313294741176793'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474170225027819271.post-115368600647064192</id><published>2007-12-08T11:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-09T13:16:34.695-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Formal Communications</title><content type='html'>I have written a few times about my hopes that Missy and I would be a little more formal with each other. &lt;a href="http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/2007/07/pride-and-prejudice.html"&gt;Remember this &lt;/a&gt;and &lt;a href="http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/2007/09/summer-vacation-is-over.html"&gt;this?&lt;/a&gt; But I think this time we have really taken it to the next level. About a year ago, I set up a laptop computer with our wireless card and put it in our kitchen. Missy immediately set up her email account on this computer and now it has become our primary means of communications during the workday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me back up a little bit. One of the first things I learned after marrying Missy is that she did not like to give me news that she knew that I would not like. So to avoid this she springs things on me. For instance, when she volunteers me for some sort of duty at the church. She waits until Sunday morning sitting around the breakfast table to tell me that we have to hurry up and get dressed and get to the church so that I can perform some sort of church related duty. This way she only has to deal with MAD-ADAM for a few minutes rather than hours, days or even weeks. Of course, she would claim that she told me about this several weeks ago and that I just forgot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now that has all changed. Like I said above, Missy and I have come up with a more formal way of communicating throughout the workday. If you don’t have the email to prove that you communicated the unpleasant message then it did not happen and the husband has the right to refuse this unpleasant duty. Here is a recent chain of emails that illustrates my point:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;-----Original Message-----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From: Missy McAnally (Home)&lt;br /&gt;Sent: Friday, December 07, 2007 10:56 AM&lt;br /&gt;To: McAnally, Adam (Work)&lt;br /&gt;Cc:&lt;br /&gt;Subject: church weenie roast&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adam, &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(editor’s note: she still refuses to call me Mr. McAnally but we’re working on that)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just sending you a reminder that this Sunday afternoon is the church weenie roast and I signed you up to be the Head-Weenie. You will need to try on the weenie suit this evening when you get home to make sure that it fits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Love You!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Missy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----Original Message-----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From: McAnally, Adam (Work)&lt;br /&gt;Sent: Friday, December 07, 2007 11:16 AM&lt;br /&gt;To: Missy McAnally (Home)&lt;br /&gt;Cc:&lt;br /&gt;Subject: RE: church weenie roast&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Missy,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A “reminder” implies that you had told me about this obligation in the past, which is not the case here. I therefore, will not be able to fulfill this important duty. Please pass along my regrets to the weenie roast committee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----Original Message-----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From: Missy McAnally (Home)&lt;br /&gt;Sent: Friday, December 07, 2007 11:27 AM&lt;br /&gt;To: McAnally, Adam (Work)&lt;br /&gt;Cc:&lt;br /&gt;Subject: RE: church weenie roast&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adam,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please check your email for the message that I sent you on Wednesday, November 28, 2007 7:25 AM informing you of this obligation. Please do not be too late getting home this evening because I need to know ASAP if the weenie suit requires any adjustments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Warmest Regards,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Missy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----Original Message-----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From: McAnally, Adam (Work)&lt;br /&gt;Sent: Friday, December 07, 2007 11:29 AM&lt;br /&gt;To: Missy McAnally (Home)&lt;br /&gt;Cc:&lt;br /&gt;Subject: RE: church weenie roast&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAMN!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Adam (a.k.a. the Head-Weenie)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay so she won that one but there are other advantages to having a virtual paper trail:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141656533247850898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/R1rVYBVN-ZI/AAAAAAAAAMo/6k33DiAfnok/s400/sweet-love-appt.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4474170225027819271-115368600647064192?l=adamjmcanally.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/feeds/115368600647064192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4474170225027819271&amp;postID=115368600647064192' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/115368600647064192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/115368600647064192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/2007/12/formal-communications.html' title='Formal Communications'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09898760621765305672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00150313294741176793'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/R1rVYBVN-ZI/AAAAAAAAAMo/6k33DiAfnok/s72-c/sweet-love-appt.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474170225027819271.post-4092924295742926851</id><published>2007-12-02T11:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-02T17:07:51.385-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Meet my Mini-Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;One of the best parts of being a parent is the ability to mold your children into the perfect partner for whatever hobbies you happen to enjoy. We all know that we should share many common interests and hobbies with our spouses, but it's never quite the same as being able to start completely from scratch and mold a perfect playmate. For example, some fathers enjoy fishing. They proceed to mold their children into the perfect fishing buddy. Someone that is always ready to help haul the rods and tackle boxes down to the lake and drown some worms. In my case, I am currently working on three different hobbies. First, I really need a tennis partner. Second, I really like playing two player video games. And finally, I really love playing cards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First is tennis. Missy and I have played tennis a few times, but she usually gives out after about 30 minutes because her shoulder starts to bother her. So far I have had only limited success turning Emily and Jillian into the next &lt;a href="http://www.williamssisters.org/"&gt;Venus and Serena Williams, &lt;/a&gt;but it has been fun trying. We usually just swat at the tennis balls in the driveway. This fall, Missy and I enrolled Emily in an after school program called &lt;a href="http://www.playball.co.za/main/Data/Home_1244.asp"&gt;Playball&lt;/a&gt;, and we have already seen a dramatic improvement in Emily's coordination. Hopes are very high that eventually I will have a couple of top-notch tennis partners.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next is two-player head-to-head video games. Shortly after getting married, I talked Missy into letting me buy a Playstation 2 since it would also double as a second DVD player. But even as a kid, the only video games that I really enjoyed playing were the games that two players could play together at the same time. Remember &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Combat_(video_game)"&gt;Atari's Combat&lt;/a&gt; or &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joust_%28arcade_game%29"&gt;Joust&lt;/a&gt;? Those were the games that I could play for hours with my brothers and sister. So the only games that I bought were games that two players could play at the same time. The games that I own are Virtual Fighter, Harry Potter: Quidditch World Cup and Gran Turismo. Missy didn't turn out to be very much of a gamer, and since I am easily bored playing video games by myself, for the next 6 years my PS2 really was just a second DVD player. Now, that has all changed. Last year I began teaching Emily how to play Gran Turismo. She is coming along pretty well. She is learning how to work the PS2 controller and beginning to learn how to navigate her car around the track. I predict that in a few more months, I will not have to LET her win the races anymore and then the real competition will begin. One thing about playing this game with my daughter is that sometimes I get the feeling that her favorite part of the game is shopping for a new car. She really gets into picking out the model of car and then takes forever to choose which color is just right. She gives absolutely no consideration to the horsepower of the car that she is picking. In fact, I think that she feels that the actual race itself is just the thing that you just have to do before you can shop for another new car. But as long as we are spending time together, both having fun, it's a very good thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;And finally, we have card playing. Anyone that knows me and my family knows that when we get together we going to play some cards. Spades, Hearts, Poker - it doesn't matter. A family sitting around the table playing cards, talking, laughing and sometimes drinking is a wonderful thing. Emily and I have been playing cards for the last two years now and yesterday we took a great leap forward. Up until now it's been Go Fish and Old Maid, but yesterday Emily and I started playing one of my personal favorites: Crazy-8s. We had fun although it is not as easy to let her win Crazy-8s as it was to let her win Go Fish and Old Maid, but I think that learning to lose is just one of life's lessons that has to come sometime. So far, the only down side to our card games has been that she has picked up some of my love of trash-talking during the game. You should just hear her whenever she fishes out the card that she needs during a game of Go Fish. I predict that it will only be a matter of time before Emily and I are playing Texas Hold'em double-or-nothing for her college account money. Wish me luck!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139443697635329426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/R1L40CSshZI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/d1bkeryB4bU/s400/DSCF3107.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Adam's very own Mini-Me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4474170225027819271-4092924295742926851?l=adamjmcanally.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/feeds/4092924295742926851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4474170225027819271&amp;postID=4092924295742926851' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/4092924295742926851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/4092924295742926851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/2007/12/meet-my-mini-me.html' title='Meet my Mini-Me'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09898760621765305672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00150313294741176793'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/R1L40CSshZI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/d1bkeryB4bU/s72-c/DSCF3107.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474170225027819271.post-4301321607094285357</id><published>2007-11-26T11:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-26T11:51:38.194-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The More Things Change...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;When I was a kid, one of my favorite things to do in the whole wide world was lying on the floor and watching TV. One of the best days ever was when my parents had the downstairs TV Room carpeted. After that, the furniture downstairs was hardly ever used at all. There is just something special about stretching out on the floor to watch television. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Years later when I was getting out of the Navy, the movers came to my apartment in Aiea, HI to pack up my stuff and send it back to the mainland. They came about a week before I was scheduled to fly out so for that last week in Hawaii I slept on the floor of my apartment. No big deal. It will be fun, just like when I was a kid. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Oh what a difference a few years makes!!! I found that my body did not like lying on the floor for extended periods of time. After just a few hours on the floor, I was so stiff I could hardly move. Could I be getting old?!!!! No way!!! But just in case, let's limit the amount of time spent lying on the floor.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;These days I don't get on the floor often to watch TV. When I do, this is bound to happen:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137190401311727346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/R0r3c7W7XvI/AAAAAAAAALk/m3F7clMZXs8/s400/DSCF2961.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Emily, Jillian and me - Thanksgiving 2007&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4474170225027819271-4301321607094285357?l=adamjmcanally.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/feeds/4301321607094285357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4474170225027819271&amp;postID=4301321607094285357' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/4301321607094285357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/4301321607094285357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/2007/11/more-things-change.html' title='The More Things Change...'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09898760621765305672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00150313294741176793'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/R0r3c7W7XvI/AAAAAAAAALk/m3F7clMZXs8/s72-c/DSCF2961.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474170225027819271.post-1751982852487172414</id><published>2007-10-14T07:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-14T08:17:16.720-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Good Husband Quiz</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/RxIGSUgQ8AI/AAAAAAAAALc/98wZ_2mLQ8o/s1600-h/Examprgr-1.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121162638085124098" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/RxIGSUgQ8AI/AAAAAAAAALc/98wZ_2mLQ8o/s200/Examprgr-1.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay to see if you have been paying attention, here is a simple one-question quiz:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Your wife is a nursing student and just spent her Saturday at the hospital assisting in breast cancer screenings. She is on her way home and calls you to tell you about her day. Here is a list of possible responses. Please choose the best one:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;a. Wow, so you have been looking at breasts all day? You are so lucky!!! Did you see any good ones? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;b. Are you bringing me home any pictures?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;c. That sounds interesting. Hurry up and get home so that you can get dinner started. The kids and I are starving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;d. That sounds very interesting. Tell me what you want for dinner and I will have it ready by the time you get home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;e. That sounds very interesting. I just got done fixing the (insert name of complex home appliance here. For example, lawn mower, hot water heater, etc.) myself. Well hurry up and get home so that we can figure out what we are going to do for dinner.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;The Correct Answer: e&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;a. Most wives don’t understand men’s feelings about breasts. This also may lead here to believe that you are not taking her seriously. So although you are showing an interest in her day in accordance with Good Husband Tip #2, this may not be the most appropriate way of expressing that interest.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;b. Again, you are showing an interest in her day but this is not an appropriate way of expressing that interest. If you do make this error, do NOT compound the problem by telling her that you were just offering to give her your second opinion as a breast expert. Unless you really are a medical professional, she will just think you are not taking her seriously.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;c. A couple things wrong with this answer. First, not enough interest in her day. Second, this is not good time to tell her you expect her to cook dinner since she will spend the rest of the car ride home thinking about what a lazy jerk you are. Third, it makes her wonder what you have been doing all day if the kids haven’t been fed in a while.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;d. Com’on, this is NOT the “Whipped Husband Quiz”!!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e. Appropriate level of interest in her day. Makes her think that you were doing something and not being lazy all day. “Figure out what to do for dinner” is vague enough that she doesn’t automatically think that you expect her to fix dinner as soon as she hits the door. The perfect answer.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well how did you do? Maybe you need to refresh you memory by rereading &lt;a href="http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/2007/10/good-husbands-guide.html"&gt;THE GOOD HUSBAND’S GUIDE by clicking here.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4474170225027819271-1751982852487172414?l=adamjmcanally.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/feeds/1751982852487172414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4474170225027819271&amp;postID=1751982852487172414' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/1751982852487172414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/1751982852487172414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/2007/10/good-husband-quiz.html' title='The Good Husband Quiz'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09898760621765305672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00150313294741176793'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/RxIGSUgQ8AI/AAAAAAAAALc/98wZ_2mLQ8o/s72-c/Examprgr-1.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474170225027819271.post-977188316090612937</id><published>2007-10-07T09:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-07T10:06:29.717-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Notes</title><content type='html'>1. I got new glasses yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118595077771623698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/RwjnGo-j_RI/AAAAAAAAALM/lT3ZRgcyLxM/s320/newglasses.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I finally finished the book "Pride &amp;amp; Prejudice" and did not understand a word of it. Now I really feel discouraged. &lt;a href="http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/2007/09/adams-pheromones-part-2.html"&gt;Maybe I'll just go fishing.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously though, it was great. It took me a while to read it for two reasons. First, I really am a naturally slow reader. I understand what I read but I just seem to take my time and enjoy whatever it is I am reading. It's been like that since I was a kid but somehow I manage. The second reason is that since I was already familiar with the story, the book became primarily a bathroom book for me. This frequently happens for me when I am re-reading a book or reading a book where I have already seen the movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But most importantly, the book was great and the last chapter of the book gives you a little taste of what happens after the main characters get married which does not happen in the mini-series. Two thumbs up!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now I need a new book to read. Any suggestions?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. The last two Saturdays, our neighbor, Carol, has taken Emily to our other neighbor, Mac Fulcher's football games. This time she even made Emily a little cheerleading outfit. Emily has had a ball both times with her "Aunt Carol" and now Kim has some cute pictures on her blog. &lt;a href="http://kimbajalaya.blogspot.com/2007/10/little-hawk.html"&gt;Click here to view.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you Carol for all that you do for me and my family!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4474170225027819271-977188316090612937?l=adamjmcanally.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/feeds/977188316090612937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4474170225027819271&amp;postID=977188316090612937' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/977188316090612937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/977188316090612937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/2007/10/random-notes.html' title='Random Notes'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09898760621765305672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00150313294741176793'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/RwjnGo-j_RI/AAAAAAAAALM/lT3ZRgcyLxM/s72-c/newglasses.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474170225027819271.post-4363596405627690251</id><published>2007-10-04T20:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-04T20:56:56.847-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Good Husband’s Guide</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117645730216534770" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/RwWHrVvZ4vI/AAAAAAAAAK0/MVplmT-FsgE/s320/wifesguide.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Ever since I was a kid, there has been this “Good Wife’s Guide” out there that women share with each other to get themselves worked into a feminist frenzy about how bad they had it back in the 1950’s. When I first read the guide I was told that it was pulled out of a 1950’s era Home Economics textbook. It recently popped up again on my friend &lt;a href="http://kimbajalaya.blogspot.com/2007/09/what-it-was-what-it-shall-be.html"&gt;Kim’s blog &lt;/a&gt;and it says that it is from a magazine called “Housekeeping Monthly”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I am not sure if this thing is a hoax or if it is real but in either case, the bottom line here is that all this thing is really saying is that a wife should be considerate of her husband. IS THAT SO BAD?!!! I think it must be pretty bad because women of today are conditioned to not feel it is necessary to be nice and/or considerate to their husbands. Think about it. You have mothers &amp;amp; fathers telling their daughters that any man would be lucky to have them. Every feminist schoolteacher and college professor telling women that marriage is akin to slavery. Then to top it off, you have woman’s magazines and TV shows like Oprah and Dr. Phil telling women that men should worship the ground that they walk on. I really can’t blame Oprah and Dr. Phil. A few years ago, Dr. Laura wrote a book suggesting that women be sensitive to the needs of their husbands and they rode her out of town on a rail. These days, husbands don’t stand a chance of getting a woman that has not been brainwashed into hating him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, as if things weren’t bad enough, we have this 1950’s guide to contend with. It is not our fault that all men’s magazines have are cars, guns and/or naked women but no guides to being good husbands. It is also not our fault that our high school wood shop classes did not have a textbook to print a good husband’s guide. But every few years this guide rears its ug&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/RwWJJ1vZ4wI/AAAAAAAAAK8/Gc9ytcgxLeA/s1600-h/fatherknowsbest.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117647353714172674" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/RwWJJ1vZ4wI/AAAAAAAAAK8/Gc9ytcgxLeA/s320/fatherknowsbest.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ly head and the women of America get themselves whipped into a rip-roaring, man-hating feminist frenzy. As if any of the twenty, thirty and forty-something wives of today were ever given this guide and told to “learn it, love it, live it.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But today is the day that this wrong will be righted. This is the day when I will publish The Good Husband’s Guide and pull this trump card out of the feminist deck of tricks. So ladies and gentleman, Adam’s Blog is proud to present:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;THE GOOD HUSBAND’S GUIDE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you’ve decided to get married. Every animal instinct in your male mammal body is telling you to spread your seed to any and all females that fall into your sphere of influence. You have risen above your animal instincts and have decided to get married and take a pledge before God that your seed was reserved for that one special woman for as long as you both shall live. Congratulations, here are a few tips to help you in your journey through wedded bliss:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Good Husband Tip #1: Always call before you arrive home each day.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This gives your wife a chance to get the boyfriend(s) out of the house, hide the overpriced things that she bought and maybe, just maybe, get the house straightened up a little before you get home (yeah, right).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Good Husband Tip #2: When your wife is telling you about her day, look interested.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unlike men who would prefer to come home and have some quiet time to reflect on their day, women want to talk about their day. Not only that, but they want to feel that you are genuinely interested in what they did that day. So if you can fake that then it will make the rest of your evening much more pleasant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Good Husband Tip #3: Never try and invoke Genesis 3:16&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;To the woman he said, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;"I will greatly increase your pains in childbearing; with pain you will give birth to children. Your desire will be for your husband, and he will rule over you."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;This may have worked back in the 19th century but for today’s modern husbands, reading this passage from the bible to your wife to try and get your way is as fruitless as threatening to withhold sex. Although threatening to withhold sex can sometimes bring on a fit of cruel laughter from your wife which makes it all the more frustrating for the good husband.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/RwWKAFvZ4xI/AAAAAAAAALE/TKeyfwHI4ZA/s1600-h/OZZIEANDHARRIETANDFAMILY010001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117648285722075922" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/RwWKAFvZ4xI/AAAAAAAAALE/TKeyfwHI4ZA/s320/OZZIEANDHARRIETANDFAMILY010001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Good Husband Tip #4: Speaking of sex, promising not to ask for sex does not count as a gift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Husband: “Honey, this year for your birthday gift, I am not going to ask for sex for an entire week.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wife: “I already decided we were not going to have sex this week and that does NOT count as a present!!!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Husband: “Yes it does because now you don’t have to feel bad about telling me ‘no’ when I ask for sex for an entire week. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wife: “No it doesn’t count because I never really feel bad about telling you ‘no’ to sex.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Husband: “Yes, Dear.” &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Stay tuned to Adam's Blog for more Good Husband Tips.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4474170225027819271-4363596405627690251?l=adamjmcanally.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/feeds/4363596405627690251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4474170225027819271&amp;postID=4363596405627690251' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/4363596405627690251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/4363596405627690251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/2007/10/good-husbands-guide.html' title='The Good Husband’s Guide'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09898760621765305672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00150313294741176793'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/RwWHrVvZ4vI/AAAAAAAAAK0/MVplmT-FsgE/s72-c/wifesguide.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474170225027819271.post-525535259044018385</id><published>2007-10-02T08:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-02T08:51:05.118-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Hoobs</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/RwI-m-WnorI/AAAAAAAAAKs/GLTUBRYdk8w/s1600-h/180px-Hubba_hubba.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116720965940126386" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/RwI-m-WnorI/AAAAAAAAAKs/GLTUBRYdk8w/s320/180px-Hubba_hubba.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just wanted to put up a quick post about a children's television show that my 4-year old and I have been enjoying for the past few weeks. It is called &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Hoobs"&gt;The Hoobs &lt;/a&gt;and it is a show made by The Jim Henson Company for the BBC and now can be seen every afternoon on &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/PBS_Sprout"&gt;PBS KIDS Sprout &lt;/a&gt;(channel 295 for those of us w/ Direct TV). If you are like me and very disappointed with the way that Sesame Street has evolved since I was a kid then you will be very happy that children of today have The Hoobs. It's is NOT the kind of show that you put on for your child and then run out of the room. It is the kind of show that children and adults can enjoy together. I highly recommend it for people that have kids of any age especially if you have a nostalgic fondness for the Muppets.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4474170225027819271-525535259044018385?l=adamjmcanally.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/feeds/525535259044018385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4474170225027819271&amp;postID=525535259044018385' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/525535259044018385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/525535259044018385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/2007/10/hoobs.html' title='The Hoobs'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09898760621765305672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00150313294741176793'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/RwI-m-WnorI/AAAAAAAAAKs/GLTUBRYdk8w/s72-c/180px-Hubba_hubba.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474170225027819271.post-1987815007027107131</id><published>2007-09-28T09:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-28T09:42:27.343-04:00</updated><title type='text'>More Musical Memories</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/Rv0D2-WnoqI/AAAAAAAAAKk/6aSe_jA3SF8/s1600-h/250px-Hawaiifiveoscreenshot.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5115248994748441250" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/Rv0D2-WnoqI/AAAAAAAAAKk/6aSe_jA3SF8/s320/250px-Hawaiifiveoscreenshot.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This morning I was driving to work while channel surfing on my XM Satellite Radio when I hit the 70’s on 7 channel. It was playing the Theme to Hawaii Five-O and some more memories came flooding back to me. Not that I was ever a big fan of the show. In fact, I have only seen five episodes of the show and I remember exactly where I was and what I was doing when I saw them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometime in the mid-1980’s, my family was going to take a week of vacation up at my uncle’s house in Coxsackie, NY. On our way upstate we stopped in the Bronx to pick up my grandmother (my mother’s mother). Unlike most of our vacations in Coxsackie, NY, this one was just going to be my immediate family along with my grandmother. We saw our grandmother a lot while I was growing up but since my mother is the youngest of seven children there was always a lot of aunts, uncles, cousins and friends around during our weekly visits to the Bronx. So this week long trip was really the only time that I can remember spending time with my grandmother with just our family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a pretty quiet week. We spent most of the week relaxing, watching TV and rolling about $4 million dollars worth of pennies that my uncle kept in a big jar in the corner of his living room. While our little sweat-shop-penny-rolling operation was going on, my grandmother picked the television shows that we would watch. This was actually a good thing for me because I think that I get my love of old sitcoms from my grandmother. But the one show that she liked watching that I had never seen before was Hawaii Five-O. Each day we watched an episode of Hawaii-Five-O and rolled pennies. My grandmother knew everything about every guest star that was on the show (usually either the victim or the criminal involved with whatever crime that the HPD was trying to solve that day). She knew their names, what other shows and movies they had been in, who they were once married to and countless other trivial facts about these people on the TV. I was very impressed with this because up until that time, I thought that I knew a lot about television. All in all it was a great week and a great memory to think about while driving to work today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second memory that came to mind listening to the theme song to Hawaii Five-O took place about two decades later. It was my first week in Hawaii and I was a brand new electrician stationed onboard the USS Santa Fe (SSN-763). A couple of my new shipmates took me out to dinner and then to a club in Waikiki. We were having a good time and the DJ started playing the theme to Hawaii Five-O. All of a sudden, all of the female bartenders and waitresses (all good looking and all wearing skimpy outfits) jumped up on the bar and started dancing and the male bartenders started pouring free shots. I remember thinking that this was a great way to start my four years in Hawaii.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Those were the two memories that I had this morning driving into work. A quiet week with my grandmother and dancing beautiful women with free booze.  Altogether a very pleasant drive into work this morning. Somehow I think that my grandmother would approve. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4474170225027819271-1987815007027107131?l=adamjmcanally.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/feeds/1987815007027107131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4474170225027819271&amp;postID=1987815007027107131' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/1987815007027107131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/1987815007027107131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/2007/09/more-musical-memories.html' title='More Musical Memories'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09898760621765305672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00150313294741176793'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/Rv0D2-WnoqI/AAAAAAAAAKk/6aSe_jA3SF8/s72-c/250px-Hawaiifiveoscreenshot.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4474170225027819271.post-3984495073910079874</id><published>2007-09-21T11:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-21T11:21:01.858-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Adam’s Pheromones – Part 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/2007/06/adams-pheromones.html"&gt;I know you all remember part 1 but just in case you can click here to remember it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I went on vacation, Missy and I started watching the BBC/A&amp;amp;E Pride &amp;amp; Prejudice miniseries. I even posted a couple times about it. Well about that time I was talking to my mother and we had the following conversation:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Adam: “I think that I really want to read the book “Pride and Prejudice”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom: “Well I think that book may be a little difficult for you.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adam: “Really? You think that it would be too difficult even if I have seen the miniseries a bunch of times?” &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112673281571643586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/RvPdQvC1YMI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/PaqVoU8GNxE/s320/pride.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mom: “I just don’t want you to get discouraged.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adam: “Well how about this book?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112673573629419730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/RvPdhvC1YNI/AAAAAAAAAKE/lOe-Nz1owJs/s320/harrypotter7.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;blockquote&gt;Mom: “No, I don’t think so.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adam: “This book?” &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112673865687195874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/RvPdyvC1YOI/AAAAAAAAAKM/1KrPxcET4Wc/s320/foxinsocks.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Mom: “you’re getting warmer”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adam: “How about this one?” &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112674076140593394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/RvPd-_C1YPI/AAAAAAAAAKU/f0e4dul5jHw/s320/catinhat.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Mom: “There you go. That one is a little more your speed.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;Sometimes I think that I am the Fredo Corleone of my family. Remember when Fredo said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;“I can handle things! I'm smart! Not like everybody says... like dumb... I'm smart and I want respect!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112674381083271426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/RvPeQvC1YQI/AAAAAAAAAKc/v2Jt1ygHdL4/s320/godfather2fredo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;I think it is only a matter of time before I am fishing on the lake saying a Hail Mary and someone will put me out of my misery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4474170225027819271-3984495073910079874?l=adamjmcanally.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/feeds/3984495073910079874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4474170225027819271&amp;postID=3984495073910079874' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/3984495073910079874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4474170225027819271/posts/default/3984495073910079874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamjmcanally.blogspot.com/2007/09/adams-pheromones-part-2.html' title='Adam’s Pheromones – Part 2'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09898760621765305672</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00150313294741176793'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZXma1DPkLlw/RvPdQvC1YMI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/PaqVoU8GNxE/s72-c/pride.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry></feed>