The Brothers Scott: This one's for Jefe

The title of this post refers to my good friend (and probably brother from a past life) Jeff, who -- after months ... nay, years of my keeping this blog -- has finally deemed it worthy of reading and therefore has added it to his Google Reader and commanded me to blog more often. I briefly considered making this post with a picture of Wilder flipping Jeff the bird, but decided that would just give those who love me one more reason to feel great disappointment at my juvenile behavior. Well, that and I figured we'd get a call from daycare about W's indiscriminate use of rude finger gestures.

So anyway, Jerry and I have been on a vacation this week. In Dallas. I'm told there's some crazy term called a "staycation" that's destined for the 2011 Webster's list of stupid new words that everybody's using, but saying that -- staycation -- just makes me cry a little into my coffee (cough, beer). So we'll stick with vacation.

It's been a good one so far. Wilder has discovered his inner Scarlett O'Hara and will literally sit in front of the mirror crying and observing the drama from all angles to see which is his best. And Hunter has unearthed his inner volume AND pitch control. But in between contrived conniption fits and brain-freezing bloodcurdling screams, it's been a damn fine vacation. Hold on ... I have to go pop another pill.

Not much else to report. On a less sarcastic note, the love between Wilder and Hunter continues to grow. There is lots of hugging, kissing, sniffing ("Baby smells so GOOD!") and general drooling on one another going on. I know one day they'll pummel each other to bits, but for now it's one big Wilder-Hunter Love Fest, and it does a mama's heart good.

Jerry and I are trying to get in shape, swimming and biking and -- I am SO psyched to report -- we recently bought an elliptical machine that will be delivered tomorrow. Inspired by our friends Chris and Bree, we'll be doing the Muddy Buddy this year for our 5th wedding anniversary. It doesn't really sound too difficult, but we've decided to train anyway. After a few months of swimming, we're both in better shape than we have been in quite some time, but it can always get better. Might as well fight middle age with every ounce of muscle we've got, I say.

Tomorrow night we have a very rare night away from home. Our good friend and saint Judy is coming over to care for our monkeys, err boys, and we've got a pool-facing suite at the Belmont Hotel here in Dallas. We're going to swim, eat, drink and revel in the quiet. It'll be a nice last hurrah before we return to work, and I specifically return to next few weeks of what I can only assume will be hell as we're supposed to launch the new website the end of September and we'll be going through training, quality analysis and testing. I have a very deep sense of foreboding about this. If I don't blog much in September, forgive me (or, if you're Jeff, piss off!).

On that note, here's some recent photos from the month of August.

Scarlett, err ... Wilder has developed a little shoe fetish. This is but one photo of him walking around the house with my shoes on. I have more. Don't make me use them, son.