.410 Shotgun

Dad had just gotten home and called my brother Seth and I up stairs. When we walked into the living room dad was proudly holding a brand new .410 shotgun / 30mm survival rifle. I think I said something like. "Wow dad, does mom know you bought this?"
Dad: "No, this is going to be just between us, that way when were camping and a we need some protection, I can whip this out and surprise your mother." (It was something like that.)
Dad had us grab our shotguns and .22s and we headed out to the vale hills to do some shooting.
First on the agenda of course was shooting the brand new .410. If I remember right we set it up to shoot a couple of 30mm shells first, after that we got it ready to shoot the .410 shotgun shells. Seth and I tried to shoot a few clay pigeons with it but were unsuccessful. We blamed it on how small the shells were.
Dad then had a revolutionary idea. He wanted to see the pattern that the .410 shotgun was creating. So he had Seth prop up a big piece of board that happened to be there. I don't think dad realized it was a 1" 1/2 piece of plexiglass. (For his pride we'll say he didn't)
I remember looking at that plexiglass and thinking "There's no way that gun is going to shoot through this."
Seth/Sam : "Dad I don't think you should shoot this thing."
Seth and I both voiced our concerns about shooting at the plexiglass, but dad wouldn't hear it. I believe his comment was, "If you're scared go hide behind the car." and that's exactly what we did.
Dad shot.
AHGH! @#$%
Dad immediately drop the .410 and grabbed his face. Seth and I both darted over to see what had happened. Well, it was obvious. About ever 2 inches of dad's face had a small pellet wedge into it. Dad had hit it's target perfectly and then all those pellets had come ricocheting right back at him.
I remember saying something like "Well, you'll be able to see the pattern for sure now." (he told me to shut-up.)
Seth and I dug out all the pellets that we could, but it was obvious that we were going to need some tweezers or something to get the rest out.
We packed up everything and Seth and I tried to convince dad that one of us should drive. (We were just trying to get a chance to drive because we couldn't yet.)
Dad ended up driving, but I remember looking all over the car for napkins and then finally I think we grabbed a towel off of his golf club bag so he could wipe all the blood off of his face. It wasn't until we were driving past Sam and Sydney Hartley's house that I saw dad get very nervous. The silver bullet (our old 12 passenger van) was waiting at a stop sign with Mom and Bryce in it. (Mom was picking up Bryce from work) Dad had us cover up his face so Mom couldn't see him when we drove by. Dad raced home because he didn't want mom to see. (I'm pretty sure mom knew something was up.) As soon as dad parked in the driveway, he was out the door and racing up the walkway with the towel over his head, mom was coming around the corner. (I've never seen dad move that fast.)
Seth and I were assigned to distract mom until dad could get into the bathroom.
Mom's first words were, "What happened?"
Seth/Sam: uhh.......
Mom: What's going on?
Seth/Sam: uhh...
Mom: Will you just tell me what's going on!
Seth/Sam: uhh...just go look at dad.
Mom had a hard time of convincing dad to finally open the bathroom door, but dad finally did. I believe mom's first words were. "What happened to your face?"
Mom spent the next hour or so digging pellets out of dad's face. There was however one pellet that she just couldn't get. I believe it was in dad's left earlobe. A pellet had found its way inside and stayed there the rest of his life. I know there were times that I was thankful for that remaining pellet, as I am sure there are others in my family who would say the same thing. For after that day, when ever I did something stupid and made dad really mad, all I had to do was grab his earlobe and remind him that he had done stupid things too.

I know there are many different versions of this story. If you would like to add or correct anything that I have written please leave a comment and I'll add or make any necessary changes.

Paris, France, Eiffel Tower, and Empire State Building

It was just after my twin brother Seth and I had received our mission calls to serve as missionaries for The Church of Jesus Christ of latter-day Saints. I was called to Sao Paulo Brazil and he was called to New York, New York. I'm not sure how the conversation started but I said something to the affect of "Hey you'll get to see the Eiffel Tower!" (I was thinking of the Empire State Building)
Seth turned around and said "The Eiffel Tower?"
Me: "Not the Eiffel Tower, the Eiffel Tower is in Paris."
Seth: "No, the Eiffel Tower isn't in Paris, it's in France."
(It was something like that)

The Three Story House

Thirteen passenger van, filled to the brim,

Chugs along the swamp so grim.

Screaming and yelling, singing with a rin-ah-tin-tin

All thirteen eating the crumbs from an empty bin.

Mom worries about the smallest three,

Father screams, Bee! Bee!

Driving the fresh commute to another unknown road,

The three-year-old screams, you’ve squashed a toad!

Without request the limo-van drags itself to a halt,

Choking on smoke within its vault.

Singing a sad tune, ending with a spit and sputter

Oh FISH STICKS, Father mutters.

But on the horizon they cross their luck,

A three-story house, made above the muck.

Buzz, biz, biz, buzz, buzz, -- biz, buzz.

Hehe! Haha! little Liz does buzz the door

Buzz, biz, biz, buzz, buzz, -- biz, buzz.

A man appears, he’s holding William Shakespeare

No help have we, oh please

They can wait in the shade, but stay out of site

Mind the dogs, they do bite.

Buzz, biz, biz, buzz, buzz, -- biz, buzz.

Back to the car, to conjure a new plan,

They decide to push the van.

Heave! Ho! The kids ran over dads toe!

They see a mailbox, its name is Moe,

Down the dirt road they spot a shack,

It’s a miracle, it’s still intact.

A man appears, he’s holding a beer,

What seems to be the problem? Howdy, my dear!

Inside you thirteen, there’s water and bread.

If you’re tired, you can share my couch and bed.

Three hours gone by, father wakes, thinking it must be a lie.

The van is washed and ready to roll good-bye!

All aboard, they hoot and holler!

Waving to Moe, who seems a little taller.

A Divine Gift

If you were to come into our home and sit down for a bit, a common word would be ringing through your ears. Lizzy, Liiizzzzzzzyyyyy, LIZZY! said in many different ways, fast and slow, high or low, soft and hard. Each being the same word and yet with so many different meanings behind the way it's said. Elizabeth Grace Ellsworth came into our lives December 11th, 2008. Since then its been late nights, early mornings, ewes and ahhs, and a few "hold your nose" moments sprinkled in-between.
Grace, being her middle name came from outta nowhere. My wife came up with it first and I instinctively replied "no". We argued about it for sometime, my reasoning being that neither one of us had a relative named Grace. Her reasoning being it sounded pretty. It wasn't until I was sitting in class one day that I had decided to look up the word grace. (I had gotten bored with the teachers lecture and decided to do something to stimulate the brain.) It's definition surprised me and frankly was a slap to the face. Once again proving that the wife is always right.
Grace: A divine gift from God to help or strengthen, given through the bounteous mercy and love of Jesus Christ. King James Bible, Bible Dictionary, Grace, pg. 697.
I know it may seem silly to think of a crying baby, who's scared of just about everything, finds her way into everything, and eats everything, would seem like a great gift. However I must say there are some great gifts she has given our little family.
Lizzy is always happy to see me, even when I'm not necessarily thrilled to be up at 2 a.m. to see her.
Even when I get frustrated with her, she responds by smiling back at me and singing for me at the top of her lungs.
While I spend money shopping for the juiciest burger at the nearest fast-food restaurant and then try to cook new things so that I don't have to eat the same thing two days in a row, she is excited to receive her same old mush everyday at the exact same time.
I spend time and money looking for ways to entertain myself through movies, TV, video games, books, internet, sports, and more. She spends her time looking for her purple hippo.
I look for the newest electronic gadget or gizmo, LCD TV, Playstation 3, ipod, netbook, and more to add to my wish list. I think she's still just looking for her purple hippo.
She really is a divine gift, a humbling gift, a bring me back to reality gift, attached with a scream and a giggle.

Crime and Punishment

I was picking up one of my employees for work today because he was being punished by his parents for getting a low ACT score. His punishment being he was no longer able to have a car. On our way to work he described to me how strict his parents were. This got me thinking about how strict my parents were.

Overall I think my parents were pretty cool, however they were strict with all 8 of us kids. I being the youngest by a mere two minutes of my twin brother. ( I like to joke that he had to eat my crap while in the womb because I sat on top of him.) Anyway, my parents were strict, at least my father was. I remember one day I had gotten into a fight with one of my older brothers. Dad was furious, but he knew just what to do. He grabbed a pair of real handcuffs, he had given to me for my birthday, and handcuffed my brother and I together for an entire day. We literally had to do everything together and get along. If we didn't get along, another day would be added to our punishment.

We learned to get along with each other real quick and fight only when we knew dad wasn't around. However, Dad somehow seemed to be able to show up in the most unlikely of places.