Nothing like a freshly laundered codpiece

Thanks to my sister Lianna, I have been on a non-fiction/historical fiction kick about the Tudor monarchies (Henry VIII, Elizabeth, etc.) I have been introduced to a world of near constant beheadings, religious intolerance, women being married, discarded, shunned, betrothed, beheaded, and a fresh new vocabulary. Let me introduce you to the new 16th century vocab word of the day: codpiece. If you don't know what it is, look it up. I'm not explaining. (Hint: it's the 16th century male equivalent of a padded Wonderbra.)

Greg and I are taking a ridiculous amount of enjoyment in working this word into our vocabulary. For instance: "Honey, will you make sure my extra large codpiece is clean? I have a meeting with some important clients." OR, "Young man, watch your mouth! You are getting too big for your codpiece!" Maybe even, "Does that codpiece come in leopard?" Go ahead, try it. I'd love to hear how you casually work this word into your everyday life.

WAY OFF THAT SUBJECT. It would be more than irreverent to dedicate a post to codpieces and not acknowledge the fact that last weekend me and the kids were babied and pampered and WELL FED by my darling grandma and grandpa. I love it that my kids are getting to enjoy their still robust great-grandparents. Plus, nothing like pinochle with my grandparents to make for some good stories. (Yes, I play pinochle. So does Greg. Want to play?) Thanks Grandma and Grandpa!

I'll sign off with a few pictures. Have a great weekend and make sure you, and your codpiece, and clean and fresh for Monday morning.Dane, revisiting finger painting. I forced him to use his binky so he would stop eating the paint. As you can see, he still tried.
"Look ma! I know how to break my neck!"
Direct quote: "Mom, I am a kangaroo and this is my joey." Thank you wildlife magazines!