anthropology

Growing up in my home nobody ever watched sports. With the exception of the occasional Super Bowl game or the big BYU-Utah game. And seriously, that was it.

That's how come when I was seventeen years old, working as the office intern at a Country Club, when the other ladies in the office were all giddy about the fact that Steve Young was going to be at the club participating in a charity golf tournament, I said, "Steve Young? Who's that?"

I got quite an education that day. That was the summer of '93, so Mr. Young was still the head quarterback for the San Francisco 49ers. He also used to play for BYU where he got is law degree cause he's super smart, he's LDS, famous, rich, really good looking, and SINGLE. In other words, he was at the top of the Mormon Most Eligible Bachelor list.

Being the youngest girl in the office, I was nominated to walk out onto the golf course where he was teeing off and get his autograph for myself and all the other ladies in the office.

I had it framed, and at one point that autograph occupied a place of honor on my bedroom wall, (it's that framed picture on the bottom left hand side.)

but I think has spent the past decade and a half in a closet or box or something.

Until tonight.

I decided I needed to dust it off and present it to my first born. I have a very small hope it will give him some sort of street cred with his friends or else at least maybe inspire him to not be so ignorant when it comes to sports.

I realize Nick isn't into sports, and personally I could care less, but I think he should try and at least bridge the gap between him and other boys his own age. I told him he doesn't have to watch football and love it (and who knows, maybe if he understands it, he might) but at least stop saying things like "Who are they?" when someone mentions the Miami Dolphins. Or the Denver Broncos. Or the Green Bay Packers. Or the Dallas Cowboys. (to name a very few)

Other sports centered discussions in our home have also included conversations on what "NFL" stands for, and the fact that the Suns won't be playing the the SuperBowl anytime soon.

Don't get me wrong, I'm very proud of my little geek, but I just think having a basic understanding of what other teenage boys are interested in wouldn't be a bad thing.

"More pictures of the monsters, please"

John is in San Francisco. He's setting up for a big trade show and has been totally slammed all weekend.

I got a text from him this afternoon asking me to call his dad. Wherever John is, he usually manages to call his father in Ohio on Sundays.

Except on the rare occasion like today. (It's Wednesday now, but I started this post on Sunday just in case anyone is confused)

So I had a nice chat with John's dad while the kids screamed in the back ground. (Christopher has been one obnoxious little bugger today)

I regularly hear from John how his father loves my blog and appreciates the pictures and stories, and today was no exception. I was told to keep up the good work, and he'd like "more pictures of the monsters".

So, here you are, Dave.

Christopher is getting a little stir crazy with the kids being gone. I think in both our minds his new pre-school can't come soon enough. It's too hot to really go do anything, despite his repeated requests to "Go play park." But he's managed to keep himself busy making messes (why yes, I do hate yard work, why do you ask?) and being our family pet. He built a "nest" in John's side of the closet and (It took me awhile to figure out where all my pillows had disappeared to) and building dog houses in my living room. (And then he gets in and starts barking)

Zach is loving cubscouts. I think this was the thing he was looking forward most to when he turned 8. (yes, I still need to sew on a bunch of patches)

Maddie recently was able to attend a daddy-daughter hoe-down/dance with her dad. She was so excited. John even busted out his Yosemite Sam bolo tie for the big event. (I didn't even know he owned that thing)

Nick's big news is that he is now officially taller than me. At his doctor's appointment yesterday he made the doctor measure me as well just to make sure. He beat me by 1/4 of an inch. You should have seen him bouncing around the office. "That's okay", I tell him. "You'll always be my baby." Apparently Nick has been getting the short end of the stick in the picture department. I couldn't find any decent recent ones. So I'll just include this one his scout leader sent me.

you know your husband travels too much when...

John's birthday is in a couple of weeks.

He just got a birthday card in the mail.

From Southwest Airlines.

Seriously.

I guess it is fitting since last year he spent more money on airplane tickets than we did on our mortgage.

Again, Seriously.

Is bad behavior ever a good thing?

I'm still on the fence about this issue. The mother in me screams "NO!" but I have to wonder how much of a factor his bad behavior played in him getting into the Amanacer pre-school.

So, yay! That's the good news. Speech therapy, trained teachers to help deal with his issues, pre-school 4 days a week, transportation to and from, and it's all free!

Apparently he is "Severely Delayed". (That's the not so good news-Zach was only moderately delayed.)

But like I said, he was TERRIBLE at the evaluation. Like as naughty as he gets. Crying, temper tantrums, refusal to co-operate, defiant...

Like, "you're lucky there are witnesses here kid, otherwise you'd get the spanking of your life..." (not really, of course, but bad enough I was still thinking about it.)

So now it's just a waiting game. They say I will get a phone call in a couple weeks when all the paperwork is finalized letting me know which school he will go to.

I just keep reminding myself of a few things- a) maybe it (the bad behavior) helped... and b) his current pre-school teacher Miss Miles says he's great at school. No crying, tantrums, etc. So at least I know he can behave. oh and c) that at least the ladies evaluating him have probably seen worse. (hopefully) I mean, I was there because my kid has issues. It's not like they were giving me those dirty "Can't you control your kid?" looks. You know, the kind of looks you get from people who have clearly never had a toddler of their own.

So, yay! he's in!

I spent the morning celebrating by going over some of Zach's old goals and evaluations. It did my heart good to see how far he's come, and I am very hopeful that this year will be really good for Christopher.

~~~~

While I'm on the subject- I had meant to post about Christopher's first day at his other pre-school. He loves going to Miss Miles. I think he will really miss that pre-school, but he's such a social person I am pretty excited for him to be able to practically double the time spent in pre-school. (and not just because I am fantasizing about all the things I will get done!)

When I am Baptized...

Zach's baptism turned out great.

Small. Intimate.

A few family and friends.

Nick gave a talk on baptism, and John's mom gave a talk on the Holy Ghost. They were both short and sweet. Nick decided to use visual aids in illustrating how our sins are washed away. Since Maddie had long since gotten rid of her barbies, we found a Minnie Mouse figurine to which he dipped in mud, then cleaned off in water.

The mud had me a little panicky. The table was covered in beautiful white lace and I actually interrupted his talk to make him wipe his hands off before he got the lace dirty. (Oh yeah, I did)

I was told by a friend that her little boy (who is one of Zach's best friends) went home and told his brother that Minnie Mouse is Mormon because she got baptized too.

Madison played a bunch of primary songs while we waited for Zach to change after the baptism. Christopher wasn't on his best behavior. He was definitely testing boundaries. During Madison's piano playing he decided to sing, only most of the time he was singing completely different songs. He even busted out with ♪♫ We hold hands in parking lots ♫♪ A one-line little song I made up and sing whenever he decides he'd rather run away from me in parking lots. Needless to say, anyone within earshot of Christopher started giggling at this point. (Including the member of the bishopric.)

Oh, and the pictures turned out great despite me. (Thanks, Tricia!)

It was a good day, and I am so proud of Zach for choosing to be baptized.

Zachary is 8!

Zach had a good birthday. (I think so anyway.)

3 out of 4 grandparents were here, I brought in donuts for a class treat, his grandma (my mom) and I brought him In n Out for lunch, and he invited a few friends to his birthday party at the local bowling alley after school.

I was going to have a friend party for him the next weekend, but John informed me he would be in San Francisco, and if I wanted any help what-so-ever, I needed to move the party up a week. Believe it or not, entertaining kids is not one of my strong suits, and so when Madison suggested bowling, and I was able to book a party on short notice, that's what we did.

All the kids seemed to have a great time. Zach had a smile on his face the whole time and gave me great big hugs. We had two lanes for Zach and his friends, then we had another lane for anyone else. I was worried that Christopher would be naughty and just want to run around, so I brought back up. I figured between me, John, Nick, Maddie, 1 grandpa, and 2 grandmas, we could control him. (the grandparents were in town for his baptism the next day) Turns out bowling is now one of Christopher's very favorite things in the whole world. Every day he asks me "I play bowling?" He even took turns surprisingly well, and wouldn't even stop for rootbeer and pizza or cake.

I am told that one of the highlights of the evening was my spectacular fall when I was running to save a ball that Christopher had tossed in the wrong lane. It was stuck in the gutter. The party helper girl tried to stop me, but it was too late, and my flip flops were no match for the polished surface and I landed flat on my backside. I seriously have the best bruise from that moment of glory. It's black and blue, and as big as a baseball, and even has arms, but unfortunately I can't show it off, because it's in a place nobody wants to or should be seeing. But trust me, it's pretty awesome. (And the fall that earned the bruise had my whole family laughing for hours.)

Happy 8th Birthday Zachary!!! I Love You!

I should be fired.

So.

Zach's birthday is this weekend.

His 8th birthday. To us, that's big. It means he gets to be baptized a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. It's a pretty big deal.

This is the plan for the weekend- Zach's birthday is on Friday. We are having his party right after school at the local bowling alley. I was hoping to have it the next Saturday, but John will be out of town, and while there are many things I can do on my own, throwing a party for an 8 year old is not one of them.

His baptism is on Saturday, followed by a luncheon at our house.

What I've done so far- Scheduled the church for the baptism, and scheduled the bowling alley. And talked to a couple of people about talks and prayers and such for the baptism. And John bought Zach a suit.

What I need to do- make and deliver invitations to both the baptism and the birthday party. Make and/or purchase cake(s). Find out shoe sizes in advance of all the bowlers. Finalize and print up the program for the baptism. Clean my house, plan, prepare, shop for, (bake?) and create luncheon for after the baptism.

You'd think I'd be running around with my head cut off. Nah, I'm just blogging about it instead.

A few days ago Zach asked me about getting his picture taken in front of the temple in a new suit. So I texted my favorite photographer asking if she was up to the task. (I made it clear it was OK to say no, given that I was giving her about a week's notice.) Since the hours of daylight available minus the free time she had equaled less than zero, she offered to try and edit any photos I took.

It was really better than I had hoped for.

So, the big photo shoot went like this- wait for John to get home from his dinner meeting, (he had the one and only car) scarf down the take out order he brought home for dinner, then get Zach ready and drive to the temple with only a few good minutes of daylight left. Pose Zach in front of temple and snap a picture. At this point realize I left my memory card in my laptop when I was uploading pictures of the strawberry dessert for my food blog. Aaack! Run to car and grab cellphone. Feel like an idiot snapping pictures in a "photo shoot" with my cellphone while brides and real photographers with real cameras just want me to get out of the way. Too flustered to worry about angles, just hoping to get pictures of Zach looking at the camera.

I should really get off this computer and get something done.

Adding insult to injury

I mentioned that Nick caught strep a couple of weeks ago, and then passed it on to my mom.

What I didn't mention was that I was sure I was gonna get it too. All I have to do is hear a rumor of somebody somewhere getting it, and I will catch it. Add up all the times my family (parents, brothers, husband, children) have caught it, and you probably won't even equal half the times I have.

Seriously.

I've been sucking down the Emergen-C like it's my favorite drink in the whole wide world.

After two weeks I thought I was in the clear. Surprised, but really happy about it.

And then- I woke up Thursday morning with a sore throat and an ear ache. "It's just a cold" I optimistically told myself as I popped some Ibuprofen and Sudafed. And as the day progressed I felt worse and worse. Headache, body aches, swollen glands, and finally a fever and chills.

I couldn't drive so I asked John to take me to the Urgent Care down the street.

I walked in the door in my pajamas, thick socks, and my warmest fleece jacket. I was freezing.

"Hi, how can we help you?"

"I have strep throat."

"Oh. Well then why are you here?"

I bit my tongue, but what I wanted to say, was "because you have the drugs. I might be able to diagnose myself on the rare occasion, because you know, I've been through this before, several times in fact, but I'm pretty certain any fungus I might be able to grow in my fridge is not the medicinal kind."

I'm probably making a bigger deal out of this, but seriously "Why are you here?" ?!?!

Does it really bother medical personnel that much when people like me with no medical training diagnose themselves? And do they have to be snotty about it?

They couldn't just humor me, and say something patronizing like "you won't mind if we have a real doctor confirm that with a strep culture will you?" Did they have to be rude about it?

And then they wanted me to fill out their information form, only instead of paper, they gave me a mini computer thing, kind of like a chunky ipad. It took some time for me to convince them that I wasn't going to steal it, but I really just wanted to stand outside in the glorious 110 degree heat (I never thought I would prefer the Arizona heat in July to air-conditioning, but the day had come) because my fleece jacket was no match for their air-conditioned waiting room.

I don't know, maybe I looked like some junkie off the street. (I looked pretty bad) I did leave my wallet at home, and therefore had no ID with me (John had to run home and get it) but still, when you've got a girl who's strongest desire at that moment is to lay on the sidewalk that's been soaking up that hot Arizona summer sun, could you try to be nice to her, or at least not so rude?

That's all I'm asking for. Oh and drugs. Anti-biotics at the very least. And I wouldn't say no to some painkillers either. Percocet is my fave.

(PS in the end, the medical staff that actually treated me were very nice and professional, but I have no desire to be BFF's with the girl at the front desk any time soon)

(PPS- and I was so right. It was strep. But I am feeling much better now.)

1st day of school

Yesterday was the first day of school for my older children. Christopher starts pre-school tomorrow, and then (cross your fingers) hopefully he will get into a special needs pre-school in a month or so.Zach is in 3rd grade. I think it will be a good year for him. He came home excited about his class and his teacher, Mr. Hansen.

Madison is in 5th grade. She's also super excited about school, class, teacher, friends etc. She's excited to have Mrs. Ramirez. I've only heard good things about her. And I think she has bought caramels from me through my kids before, so I know how to bribe her.

Nick is in the 8th grade. His day was good and bad. One thing he is especially excited for this year is he is taking a drama class. When I told him that I probably couldn't count on both hands the number of times somebody has said to me "have you ever thought about putting Nick in drama?", he wondered why. It wasn't really his first choice (I think he wanted shop- or whatever they are calling it these days) but talked non-stop about it for quite awhile when he came home. His day wasn't the best because he hates dealing with his contact, it fell out during lunch, he found it, but never got it back in. He missed most of his lunch dealing with that issue. Also, it was his first day back on his ADD meds, after being off them all summer, and he didn't seem "right" all day long. I think it's a side effect that will hopefully wear off soon, but I miss My Happy Nick.

Murphy's Law

The end of our stay in Utah was abruptly cut short when Nick caught the plague, er, I mean strep throat.

We had plans to visit John's family in Ogden, but decided it was best to not spread our germs up there. We had already infected my mother, who had NEVER had strep before in her life, despite being constantly exposed to me. (my nickname was Typhoid Mary growing up because I always had strep)

So we quietly packed up and headed for home. After John got a good night's sleep.

He'd also had a really bad day.

On his flight to Salt Lake from Florida, his plane ran out of gas because it couldn't land because of a storm causing them to be redirected to another airport, which caused him to miss his connecting flight, which had him running to catch another plane, and when the plane finally pulled in 4 hours late, it was without his luggage. Of course. It was still in Florida.

So here's my formal apology to the friends and family members we neglected. I really had good intentions, I promise. A fact that my kids remind me of almost daily. "Mom, when we were in Utah we forgot to (fill in the blank)" My list of things and people and places I didn't get to do or see is A LOT longer than the list of things we did.

On the bright side, I did pop into this little German bakery I know of, and I totally scored for John.

That's a whole case of Mezo Mix. (his favorite drink- the love child of Coke and Orange Fanta and only available in Germany)

No title

-Madison just prank called me. At least I think it was her. Her or one of her friends. They used a Southern accent as they asked if their pizza was ready. Obviously I know it was them because of that newfangled invention- Caller ID. It's sad really. My children will never know how much fun really prank calling the cute boy in class can be. Sometimes technology isn't such a good thing. Except when you want to see who is calling before you decide to even answer the phone.


- I painted Christopher's nails pink. He wanted me to. Really. Madison and her friends were doing it and he didn't want to be left out. And John was out of town and Nick was at scouts so there was no one to stop me.


-Nick got contacts. A contact to be exact. One eye has perfect vision, the other not so much. He rolled on his glasses in his sleep and broke them at scout camp. That's two pairs lost or broken during a scouting activity in one year. So we decided to go a different route, despite the fact that both he and I LOVED those blue glasses. :(


-Madison's crab survived us being gone a whole month. Can you believe it? I really expected to come home and find a dead, smelly crab in our kitchen. Why, oh why, did I let her bring that thing home from school?


-I just noticed I beat my record last month. 29 posts in a single month. My previous blogging record was 28 posts in a single month, and I think that was two years ago. Oddly enough that comes just after my all-time record for the least amount of posts in a single month. Only 10 in June. My previous low was 11.

-I'm afraid to go back to Catz. I took a hiatus in July, and despite the fact that I've been home for a week, I haven't gone once. Today my very good excuses are that we are busy during the times I would want to go. Music lessons, back to school nights, etc. I guess if I really tried I could fit it in, but honestly, it's really nice being pain free at the moment. When I finally go back, those first few days are gonna be brutal.

While we were away

Although the kids were slightly jealous at being left behind, they still seemed to have a good time in Utah without us.

They had kids down the street to play with, and new scooters to ride. And the weather is definitely less miserable up there, so they can play outside .

They saw Despicable Me and the new Sorcerers Apprentice. Both of which they totally loved.

My parents took them to New Mexico to spend some time with their cousins (my brother's kids) for several days. They went camping, rode bikes, had a lot of fun, and Nick even came home with a recipe for a pie he fell in love with. (I have taught him well)

I also heard stories of them going up to see the giant Kennecott Copper Mine. (It's so big you can see it from space.) They thought it was pretty cool.

There were a couple of rough patches (mostly for my parents) The Disney Channel was banned within a matter of hours. I'd ban it too, but somedays I really need my electronic babysitter. My parents tried to potty train Christopher the same way they potty trained my brothers. By hauling him in the back yard and hosing him off with the garden hose. (I totally had my fingers crossed it would work, but wasn't surprised in the least when it didn't) It worked like magic on my brothers, but while Christopher totally hated every minute of it, as my parents put it "He is the most stubborn kid!" To which I say, "Welcome to my world." On a side note, while we were at Target yesterday buying the kids socks and underwear, one of the older kids showed Christopher a package of Cars underpants. He totally flipped out. "No! No! Ow! Ow! Ow!"

Also my mom's favorite hanging plant died while they were in New Mexico. She was especially fond of it. My brothers gave it to her. I promised to post this picture on my blog as a little memorial for her baby.

Some day (soon hopefully) for those interested, Nick is working an a blog post or two about their time in Utah and you can read about it first hand.

How Zach learned to ride a bike

Dear parents of small children. You're gonna wanna pay attention to this.

This is seriously the most genius way to teach kids to ride a bike, ever.

I've mentioned before that Zach has anxiety issues. This has prevented him from learning to ride a bike before now. I'd go out and work with him, but when it came down to it, if he thought for one second someone was going to let go of the bike, he'd fall right over. No matter how well he was doing. Bike riding lessons always ended up in tears and frustration. (for both of us)

Until...

While John and I were in Utah, my dad pulled out one of my brother's old bikes and taught Zach to ride.

My dad got this idea from my little brother, and I don't know where he got it from, but he did just get his PhD, so it could have come from his own genius brain.

So what's the big, genius idea?

Take The Pedals Off.

That's it.

So simple, yet so genius.

Take the pedals off, hand them the bike, and let them play around with it. They are in control. Instead of pedaling, their feet are on the ground pushing them around. Pretty soon they are getting more and more confident, coasting farther and farther, and before you know it, they are ready for the pedals to be put back on.

I told you, GENIUS.

Harry

When I heard Harry Connick, jr was going to be in NYC for a two week stint on Broadway, I begged John to find a reason to have to go to NYC. (Sometimes he has control over these things, mostly not though.)

Unfortunately those two weeks coincided with the two weeks we would be in Europe. (And even if I had a choice, Europe would have still won)

So, with a heavy sigh, I pushed it out of my mind. I'd been to his concerts before, and I was sure I would get another opportunity.

Fast forward a few weeks. Our travel plans changed slightly, and we ended up spending one night in NYC before going our separate ways. (John had to fly off to some other city for work)

I was excited to be in NYC for a night until I realized it was Monday Night. If you are a fan of Broadway and you are going to spend only one night in NYC, Monday night is the worst night to pick. Most of the shows are closed that night. I hoped we might get lucky and find SOMETHING, but probably not one of our top choices.

And then,

In the cab ride from the airport to our Hotel,

It hit me.

"I think Harry is in town!"

Could I be that lucky? Could he still be in town, AND be playing on a Monday night, AND the tickets NOT be sold out?

Yes! Yes! and YES!!!

We actually got pretty good tickets to boot.

It was such a good show too.

I could go on and on about it all. How he just randomly started up a conversation with this 80+ year old guy a few rows in front of me who happened to be a former professional football player, and ended up convincing the guy to sing while Harry accompanied him (he got a standing ovation). How he made his shy teenage daughter come out to say hi. How he pulled out a trumpet and started playing. Um, hello! since when does he play the trumpet? And then of course he totally rocked the piano. And the singing. Oh, the singing. (Big Sigh)

After the concert I think I like him more than ever. And I didn't think that was even possible.

It was a good night. A really, really good night. (thanks, John!)

Choco-crawl

I do believe that chocolate deserves it's own post.

Ever heard of a pub crawl? I don't know from personal experience, but apparently it is a fun evening out where you start at one bar, have a drink or two, some appetizers, then move on to another pub or bar. I'm not sure where the crawling part comes in, but, whatever.

So in Belgium is was able to do my own version of the pub crawl, only instead of drinking, I consumed copious amounts of chocolate.

I exaggerate not when I say that chocolate shops were everywhere in Bruges and Brussels. Sometimes there were two or three stores next to each other, if not only a door or two apart.

John was smart and didn't even grimace when I would walk through door after door after door. (At least that I saw, but then again my attention was focused elsewhere)

Dumon, Galler, Neuhaus, Leonidas, Godiva. (I figured I could get Godiva any time, so I actually didn't even bother stepping in the door-except I hear the factory is worth checking out- apparently they sell their damaged chocolates for pennies.)

I'd pick out a few that looked yummy and then move on. I ate quite a few as we walked around, and took more home to share with the other chocoholics that share my gene pool.

I didn't bother with the chocolate museums though. (I think both Bruges and Brussels each had one) I know, that's practically sacrilege, but I wasn't in the mood. Also, in the past couple weeks I'd been through several museums already- cars, WWI, art, Mozart, even an apothecary museum just to name a few.

One store we didn't make it into (but tried- it was closed) was the Chocolate Line. I hear they are pretty creative with their chocolate concoctions. The things I've heard scare me a little. Tequila...Onion...Cuban cigar...I probably would have tried Cola though.

So clearly my diet took a hit this last month.

It was worth it though, believe me.

On the plus side, Hersheys holds no allure to me any more.

In fact, the other day I found a little corner that one of my kids left behind, so I popped it in my mouth, and gagged.

I think I'm officially a chocolate snob. I think this might be good news for my waistline. (Just not so good for the wallet)

Also on a side note, I now have the beginnings of a vision in my head. A vision of my own shoppe when I grow up. I want to own a candy/bakery store some day. Most of the details are fuzzy, but caramels are definitely involved. Maybe cookies. A big taffy pulling machine in the front window. And now a whole section of imported chocolates.

Brussels

The very last town we visited was Brussels, Belgium.

I liked Brussels, it was an interesting place. I was surprised to see what a big, sprawling city it actually is. I guess I should have figured that, considering that it is the home of the NATO and the European Union.

The first thing we did was hop on one of those double decker tour buses and see the sights. We were handed headphones so we could listen to the tour, but we didn't bother. I know, totally lazy on our parts, but to tell you the truth, the thrill was pretty much gone. Statues, monuments, town squares, palaces, churches.... they all just blend together in my brain. Still very nice to look at though. I knew by this point I wasn't gonna remember what everything was anyway, so I just snapped pictures.

A few things did stand out- this giant model of a molecule- The Atomium. I think it's a science museum. (we didn't go in, and like I said- the details are getting fuzzy) John and I decided it was a perfect place to take Nick and Christopher. Nick could check out the exhibits in the balls, and Christopher could ride all the escalators connecting them.

And the very first ever indoor shopping mall.

There was also the very underwhelming statue of Mannekin Pis. It's like their National Monument. The symbol of Belgium if you will. Remember I did that blog post awhile back? Paris has the Eiffel Tower, London has Big Ben, New York has the Statue of Liberty, and Brussels has a statue of a little boy relieving himself.

But my experience has shown me that the people of Brussels have quite the sense of humor about such things. (maybe it's all that beer- it's the national beverage)

Another example of their irreverent sense of humor is their town square itself. At first glance it is a magnificent town square. My favorite by far. It's been their town square for over 1000 years, but was rebuilt around 300 years ago, after the French leveled it. It looks as though everyone was trying to out do each other with the rebuild, and they are all adorned with carvings and statuary and the like.

Supposedly each building and the statues adorning them have their own uninteresting stories, but the people of Brussels will tell you another one. (I just read about it in my travel books)

"What's that smell?" say the statues on the Swan House. "Yeah, it stinks. Somebody farted."

"It was that guy over there!" Says the statue next door as he points across the square. "It wasn't me! It was St. Nicholas!" And he points across the square to where St. Nicholas hangs his head in shame. We spent far too much time trying to figure out which one was the alleged farter, but couldn't.