Stronger, Faster, Awesomer

Karst' became a 6-year-old this week. While his birthday celebration was still in the planning stages, he advised us that he would prefer to forgo the traditional cake, and instead go with a large quantity of birthday donuts. We obliged.

Note Langy's "Rock on!" facial expression -- he just got his first lick of a maple bar and immediately achieved a higher level of consciousness. Sugar and fat...the party starter.

There was a brief awkward moment upon discovery that the Party Planning Committee had forgotten to obtain birthday candles. Melis' quickly improvised, however, and carefully placed 6 strike-anywhere wooden matches in Karsten's festive cake donut. Crisis averted.

When the smoke cleared (literally), we all enjoyed some birthday donuts. As we tucked him in that night, Karst' thanked us for "the best birthday ever." He deserves nothing less (we're just glad the boy's so easy to please).

In other news, my wife has publicly castigated me for taking too much time off from blogging. There is a perfectly reasonable explanation for this: Melissa has been insanely productive lately. Club house construction and freezer jam fabrication, all while raising "3 kids and 1 Travis" (I love that line, Reader). She makes the most interesting man in the world seem like a dullard. Even though I'm the pasty white version of the Old Spice Body Wash Guy, it's still hard to keep up with her level of sheer awesomeness.

While I'm sitting here typing on the computer, smelling like adventure, she has just changed the front shocks on her truck. I'm completely serious...
She would have done the rear shocks too, but she had to prepare a fruit plate to take to the ward picnic this evening -- which was also freakin' delicious. Even her fellow shop techs were impressed...

OK, Taeg' appears to be more impressed by the inanimate carbon rod she's acquired. In any event, my momentary silence on this blog should not be interpreted as indifference. I've simply been marveling at my co-blogger (who cleans up nicely, I might add).

(By the way, Melis', don't even think about taking down your "grease angel" photo -- your fellow shop techs signed a release in exchange for a rubber mallet and an inanimate carbon rod)