Sometimes, all you need is a hand to hold

Use every crayon color that you've got
A fishing pole sinks faster than a tackle box
Nothing turns a day around like licking a mixing bowl
I learned that from a three year old

A garbage can is a damn good spot to hide truck keys
Why go inside when you can go behind a tree?
Walking barefoot through the mud will knock the rust
right off your soul
I learned that from a three year old

You can be a cowboy on the moon
Dig to China with a spoon
Talk to Jesus on the phone
Say I love you all day long
And when you're wrong, you should just say so
I learned that from a three year old

Mama is an angel, I heard him tell the man upstairs
He went on and on and back and forth like God was laying there
Tonight, I sleep me down to lay and pray to keep my soul
Yeah, I learned that from a three year old

You can be a cowboy on the moon
Dig to China with a spoon
Talk to Jesus on the phone
Say I love you all day long
And when you're wrong, you should just say so
I learned that from a three year old

Sometimes, all you need is a hand to hold
Couple arms to kill the cold
And when I'm wrong, I should just say so
I learned that from a three year old
Yeah, honey, I learned that from our three year old

Three Year Old
Eric Church

The Penny Post

My 99th blog post is dedicated to Penny.

After a frustrating attempt to organize all of my photos on multiple computers, I came away with folders and folders of dog photos. Looking at the photos made me realize that Penny is probably the luckiest dog alive.

She has a pretty good life, and she's not complaining about it.

For instance, she:

Plays with Christmas fabric.

Hangs out with her bigger, furrier buddies.

Frolics in the snow.

Wears fashionable clothes.

Eats like a pig.

Is the subject of this text conversation.

Helps me pay the bills...kind of.

Doesn't really like her hoodie.

Plays with ribbon.

Takes unflattering selfies.

Drinks coffee.

Takes more selfies.

Plays with Angry Birds.

Hangs out and becomes a pillow for friends.

Has more fashionable clothing.

Is a professional taste tester.

Plays tennis ball.

Takes naps in weird positions.

Chews bones.

Takes medicine for headaches...or just chews the box up.

Tries to wiggle out of her fashionable clothes.

Climbs big dead trees.

So many lols.

I just spent an hour searching through old scrapbooks and yearbooks.

I have one conclusion from this: You guys, I was a weird kid.

There are some photos of my brother and I that my family talks about all the time. There's one of me sleeping in a chair with a big toy gun in my arms.

Someone has to protect the house, you know?

There's also a photo of me painting my mom and dad's house when I was two or three years old. I have red lacy underwear on, and that's it. No pants.

Those two photos I actually remember.

What I don't remember is standing next to my brother in front of the Christmas tree when we were little. I was wearing a heavy sweater, a winter hat, and snow boots...but no pants . My brother had pants on to go outside and play in the snow, but I apparently didn't think it was necessary.

Did I ever wear pants when I was little? It makes me wonder if every kid goes through a no-pants stage, or if I was always just a little weird.

I won't post photos of the no pants incidents. What I will post, though, is how brilliant my 8-year-old mind was:

Yes, that's a future journalist right there, spelling the word "spaghetti" as "spegedy."

You guys, I was destined for greatness.