Nose, Ears

I have a nose, often quite runny and fully of the remnants my parents were unable to wipe away after I've shoveled food into my mouth. It sits here in the middle of my face, you can see it here, I'm pointing to it now. If you ask me to, I will point to my nose when I am in the mood to do so. And no I am not picking my nose, at least not in this photo.

I have two ears as well and unlike my nose they are not runny, but are I will admit they are often full of the remnants of a fine meal I have just consumed. If you have not heard, I am a bit of a messy eater. I will also point out my ears when asked to do so, provided the spirit moves me to do so. Seems I only point out the one ear, the left one with any sort of consistency. It has been remarked by one who shall remain unnamed, that I have my father's ears and that this genetic trait is one that would have been better left to my mother's half of the gene pool. There's a critic in every crowd, right Melo?

Personally, I am happy with my body, runny nose, baby belly, stubby toes and all!

-Fox out.

Busy, busy

Sometimes a guy just gets tuckered out. Watching a Sunday football game, after a turkey dinner, watching home renovation shows on the T.V. for three straight hours, and riding in the car. Just put me in the old car seat, put the transmission in drive and within five minutes, I'm out. OK, sometimes 10 minutes, but without fail I am soon counting sheep.

Seems there are always errands to be run and before long, I find myself strapped in like an unwitting astronaut off on another journey. Strapped down, we are soon zooming off to points as yet unknown. And more likely than not, within that five minute window I'll be drooling, head slumped to one side like an overripe tomato on a spindly vine sleeping as though I've pulled an all-nighter before a calculus exam.

Soon enough I'll be waking back in my own drive none worse for the wear, although my shirt collar will invariably be soaked and my chin glistening with slobber. Again, I'll be blissfully unaware of the details of another outing. We could have gone 10 miles, we could have gone 10,000, and I am none the wiser. For all I know they drove me around the block until I fell asleep just so I'd take a nap. They'd never do anything like that ... would they?

- Fox out.

Fox in a Box

Today was pajama day at "school" (day care). Other than being more comfortable and less restrictive, it was much like any other day at school. I read some books, played with cars, played with friends, eat, painted with blue paint, filled my pants, and napped, comfortably. Needless to say, I am still in my pajamas even though I am now at home as you can plainly see by the photos. I'll bet you wish you could wear pajamas to school, or work, or where ever it is that you go during the day. Other than an initial unease about the clothing selection that was made for me this morning, pajama day has been a smashing success. I highly recommend it. Perhaps you should suggest pajama day to your boss, or care provider, teacher, or whom ever it is that makes your wardrobe selections for the day. Most agreeable, tell them I said so.

- Fox out

Jam

Now I realize, given my stated penchant for all things food, that titling a blog "Jam" could be misleading to some folks. This post has nothing to do with the sweetest of the food arts my fine friends. As a man of the world, I understand that there are other equally pleasurable experiences out there aside from filling my tummy. Fine literature, works of art, a comfortable pacifier, music, and ah ... dancing. Yes, I shake my groove thing every now and then. Don't think the son of my father's gene pool has the moves? Turn up the volume and just click play folks, just click play.

- Fox out.