Saturday, April 27, 2013


Dear Temple,
I hope this note finds you well and happy. Our newest was having an earnest conversation with me. He was really upset. I nodded my head and sympathized with his plight. I gave him a hug and sent him on his way.
I have absolutely no idea what his problem was. I can't understand the kid half the time. He really needs speech therapy. By the time we got him into preschool it was too late to get him evaluated. He will easily qualify for services, but it will have to wait until the next school year.
This is funny because he can curse with clarity and he did so this morning. He seemed pretty pleased with himself too, until Daddy showed him the error of his ways.
He was easily the youngest child in his last placement and there were some pretty rough children there. He's got himself quite the vocabulary. It's getting rare that we hear any of it at home, but once and a while a word or phrase bounds free. Normally I would share with you what he said, but it was pretty bad. Very bad indeed. Probably would have gotten him executed in a couple countries.

Let's move on.

That story reminds me of a time in high school when I was on a mission trip to Lithuania. I don't have a lot of good memories about the trip. I would describe my personality at that time as aggressive, volatile and rude. I still have memories of things I said and did to people I care about during that time that bother me still today. I couldn't have been all bad, it was when your Aunt Crystal and I started dating. I've asked her about this and she tells me, "You've mellowed with age."

Your Aunt Crystal is very polite. Let's move on.

In Lithuania, right after getting a talking too about being a good 'Ambassador for America', a friend of mine, Seth Schroerlucke, and I went out to play basketball with a couple of Lithuanian dudes. We were having a good time and we picked up some of the language. All the guys were saying what sounded to us like "Shoota!" after they shot the ball. We began saying that too.
The next day we were walking with those guys down a small pathway when the guy up front took a little side-step and said, "Shoota." while pointing at the ground. He was courteously pointing out a large mound of poop on the ground.
"Shoota?" I said while pointing at the mound.
"Shoota? Sudas. Yes," He said.
"Shoota means s**t?" I said.
He smiled and nodded vigorously, "Yes! Sudas means s**t!"
Seth and I looked at each other. We were both thinking about how yesterday we, as ambassadors of America, swore loudly several hundred times in a small Lithuanian town. We thought about how we described all our fun 'shootaing' with the elderly woman who put us up during our stay. It was equally embarrassing and funny, which means par for the course, on with our lives.

I love you much and miss you always,
Uncle Justin

1 comment:

  1. perfect. i had forgotten all about that! hilarious. i just watched a documentary about the Lithuanian 1992 olympic basketball team that made me think of that trip and our time on those gravelly courts with a legion of little kids following us everywhere we went. oh no, that wasn't just gas...