why, why and why & RC racing

1. Why: Why is it that my husband who rarely travels, has spent the past two weeks in two different cities (that I want to visit) and stayed in two FABULOUS hotels that I would die to stay in? Why am I not with him????

2. Why: Why is it that my first two kids are scared to death at trying new food but
crazy girl #3 tries about anything? We ate at a Mexican place today and she was trying everything. She didn't like everything but she at least wanted to try it all. I absolutely love that about her.

3. Why: Today #1 asked about one million why and how questions.

Here is just a sampler of the random questions he asked:

Why do bad guys have guns?
Have you ever seen a bad guy?
Do good guys sell guns to bad guys or do they just steal them?
Why won't our waitress give us a quarter to buy candy in the gumball machine?
How do they get that waterfall to look real on that picture? (We were at a flea market)
Why do people make cheap toys that fall apart easily?
Why do people sell old stuff that was made a long time ago?
How did they make all this old stuff? (We were still at the antique and flea market)
Is that a real knife?
How did they make that knife so big?
Why is this bathroom so dirty? (Still at the flea market)
Why does this door say "out". Is this the only door in the building you can go out?

A little background. I heard about this local flea market where you can buy great children's books (used) for about 50 cents. So we went to go see. It was like some kind of redneck festival. Junk and junk and more junk. Dogs, birds, knives, bras, panties, cheap toys, purses, jewlry, pageant dresses, funnel cakes, hotdogs, produce, antiques, mailboxes, body sprays. It was a sight. Now when I was young (this is a side tangent) I would travel to Daytona with my grandparents every summer. My favorite thing, besides baking myself in the sun from 9 to 5, was spending cash at the flea market. I wasted money on fake tattoos, swimsuits, sunglasses, and yes I even bought one pair of underwear. I loved it. I even tried to bargain too. If you dig deeper in my past, like late elementary, you would find out that I aspired to be a redneck. I wanted my first car to be a little red Ford truck 4x4 (jacked up a bit), I wanted to own a 4-wheeler. I loved going mud boggin in the deep south with my cousins. I thought living in a double wide was cool, and I wished I could be in beauty pageant like my cousin Donna. My how things change! But as I was walking through the flea market, among all the deep southern people, smelling all the goods at the refreshment stand, I was reminded of my secret beloved hobby I held for over 6 years. Starting my 7th grade year in junior high, I started remote control car racing with my dad. We started off road and then a place opened up near by that had the largest indoor oval track in Georgia. I knew I was cool, being the only girl week after week showing up to race and strut my stuff. Oh, many fond memories. I even went to regional and state events to compete. My dad was the best, he won all the time. I was pretty good, I had my share of wins. Once I started college, it was just too hard to keep up, so I slowly faded out. How dorky is this, in the freshman handbook for our college that showed pictures and mini bios to introduce all the new students, under my name it listed hobbies: remote control car racing. You know that screamed: Redneck alert, redneck alert! What was I thinking? Ha. Ha. Ha.

Okay, so where was I? I gotta quit. I AM going to church by myself with the kids tomorrow. I promise myself, I will get up.