Fashion Models:
And Another Thing

About fifteen years ago, my husband and I sat in the living room of our first home with a realtor. We discussed in depth what sort of new home we were looking to buy, once we sold our house. I pulled out a small real estate book - complete with house photos and descriptions. I flipped through the pages and noticed this one particular home that I really liked. I took my little book and walked over to the realtor and said, "This house. This is what I want."

The realtor looked down at the brochure. And then, he looked down his nose at me, curled his lip and said, "Wouldn't we all."

The photo in that brochure was of a house behind a large brick wall with security gates on the front. I liked the look of the house because of the wall, as I had two small children, a dog and a husband with redneck tendencies (loves working on old cars). While this was a relatively old house, this seemed like exactly the kind of house we were looking for.

We promptly dismissed that realtor and coincidentally went on to buy that house and have lived in that house - the one that realtor presumed we could not afford - the one that realtor assumed was beyond our means - for the past fifteen years.

Never judge a book by its cover or a house by its security gate.

This was not a fancy house. This was not a house beyond our means. But, at the time, the realtor looked at the picture of this house with the large brick wall and security gate and promptly decided that we were too young for such a house - too poor.

This past week I went to north Texas visiting colleges with my twin daughters. These are the same twins that prefer to wear t-shirts to blouses, athletic shorts to skirts and Converse sneakers to ballet flats.

We toured a fine university in the morning and I requested a conference with one of the counselors right after our tour was done. Courtney, Chloe and I went in and made ourselves comfortable in his office. We went through our list of questions about the university and how it might offer academic programs my girls are interested in.

It was pretty clear, early on, that the counselor had his own ideas about my girls - about me. Mind you - he never asked about their qualifications, their test scores, their class ranking or anything else about their resumes. He simply offered answers in a tone - while well desquised behind a well rehearsed smile - that was condescending.

At one point, I inquired about academic scholarships - like some of the other universities offer to high achieving prospective freshman. He quickly responded by throwing out high SAT/ACT scores, high class rankings, blah, blah, blah, that a prospective student would have to meet before even being considered for "such" scholarships. And then, he sort of dismissed the whole academic scholarship discussion.

I kept my eyes on his smug face and my mouth shut. When we left, I never told my girls, but to myself I thought - I guess UT or Texas State or any of the other ten universities we are considering, might just be thrilled to take my - basketball shorts, t-shirt, Converse wearing twins ... and offer them substantial academic scholarships ... when they find out that these two girls are in the top 6% of their class of 600+ and their ACT and SAT scores rank them in the top 98% in the nation.

Never judge a teenager by the clothes they wear! And, seriously, never do it in front of the mother paying for the college tuition because ... she might just scratch your university off the list based on your arrogant attitude alone.

We know when others look down their noses at us and ... they know when they are doing it. We didn't buy that house fifteen years ago just to spite that realtor, it was merely a coincidence. But I kept that real estate brochure. It was my way of reminding myself of what it felt like to be looked down upon and also how it felt to prove somebody wrong.

(The house is the one circled on the lower left)

I don't know yet where my girls will be going to college, but what I do know is this ... they will probably still be wearing Converse sneakers and basketball shorts. Maybe even a tattoo or piercing in their nose or eyebrow. And ... they will likely graduate in the top of the class because that is who they are. They are not the clothes they wear, but they have their own styles, are paving their own paths in this world and are very confident and comfortable with who they are.

Alexis is in my bathtub taking a bath and watching TV. I hear the water splash. I hear her spitting water from her mouth. I hear voices and songs coming from the TV. I hear her sing made-up songs. And then suddenly, she screams, very loud, "Woo Hoo! Oh ... I've been there." Not at me. Not at anyone. She just yells these words at the TV.

Do you think they realize they are doing this? Living in their own little worlds? Singing, splashing and yelling at the TV?

I saw my nephew recently. I said, "How are you doing?"

He starts to answer and my brother-in-law bends down and whispers something in his ear and then my nephew mumbles ... "Fine."

I look over at my sister and she laughs. She says, "He's been talking to him about that. Told him to just say fine, when people ask - not to go into a whole long story, 'Oh, not great ... not really liking school. Lost my Gameboy, blah, blah, blah.'" We laughed.

My brother-in-law says, "Yeah, people don't want to hear all that crap - told him to just say fine - like everyone else."

I, of course, told my nephew that he was always welcome to tell me all of his crap, but secretly supported this line of thinking on my brother-in-law's part.

Sometimes, I walk by Alexis' bedroom and see her sitting at her little table, coloring. Often, I hear her say things - complete sentences, complete conversations. Sometimes she is singing - songs she's heard or, more often, made-up melodies. If I ever ask her who she is talking to or what she's talking about, she will act as though she wasn't talking or singing at all; like she feels strange about being caught.

When old people do these things ... talk to themselves or go on and on about crap going on in their lives ... we call them senile or worse. When our little children do this ... we find it endearing and adorable.

It is not normal. It is fine to sing a little song or hum a tune ... but, the random talking is bizarre.

On the upside ... I do it too. One day when I was walking out of my bedroom, I heard a voice coming from the TV say, "Would you like to live Danielle Steele's life?" Bending over to pick up a pile of dirty clothes off of the floor and without missing a beat, I yelled back at the TV, "YES. I. WOULD!" and then walked on out of my room. Alexis comes by her insanity honestly.

-

Over the course of the past several months, since I've been blogging - there is something I have come to realize.

It is not something I want to admit.

It makes me downright - CROTCHITY - when I think about it too much.

What it is ....

Is that ....

I can't hardly say the words ....

Okay, okay, okay ... I'm one of the oldest moms on the blogging block (*hangs head and sobs pathetically into her lacy hankie*).

I am!!

Now ... I'm not saying how old I am and that's just because I don't want anyone to think they can start pushing me around because I'm "elderly" - ya know. But ... for those of you who haven't figured my out my age by now - take my word for it - I am mostly hanging out with a bunch of "baby-mommy-bloggers" - and I mean that in the most envious way!

So ... on occasion, I will go to someone's site and they will have one of those celebrity look-alike thingys. You know - where you can find out what celebrity you look like. Every single comparison I have ever seen of one of my young-mama-blogging friends, has these women compared to the most beautiful and youthful celebrities - it's a no-brainer, really!

So ... just out of curiousity, the other day ... I decided to give it a try - do one myself ...

See who I looked like - Me - the old-mommy-blogger ...

And ...

I was - to say the least - A BIT DISAPPOINTED!!

Honestly - there were two "older" celebrities I could have chosen to put on this wheel (you choose 8 of 10), but opted not too - because they were old and ugly! I chose these "beauties" above - well, because ... those were my choices (*hangs head and sobs like an old woman into her lacy hankie*).

Now ... some of these celebs aren't all that bad looking (except for that Celia Cruz picture - what the ...?), it's just that I apparently look like just ANYBODY! I might look a bit like any one of these people - but none of these people look like each other at all - like on the other celebrity look-alike tests I've seen on other sites. Usually, if you are blonde - then all your celebs are usually blonde too, about the same age and be-autiful. But ... mine? No. Mine are like - CONFUSING? Like the machine couldn't quite figure me out - couldn't quite get a GOOD match on me (*hangs head and sobs like an UGLY old woman into her lacy hankie*).

So ... I decided to try it again - using a different photo of myself ...

Thought for sure it would turn out differently - make me feel better ...

But .......

I AM NOT KIDDING!

WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON?!?

It just got CREEPY AND WAAAAY worse!

Okay, so is there an upside here?

Let's see ...

On the upside ... First, in order to analyze this mess ... I have to eliminate those characters I don't even know, like - Celia Cruz, Mylene Farmer, Helena Carter, Darius Milhaud, Pierre Bouvier, John Dewey, Nikki Cox and Franz Lehar - GOOD LORD!

Of those celebs I am left with - let's just just be HONEST - I am no Jennifer Aniston, Lucy Lawless, Kim Cattrall or Oprah Winfrey - HELLO!

And ... I can't sing or dance worth a crap, so that pretty much eliminates the lovely Wynonna Judd and Liza Minnelli.

So ... now I am down to - James Stewart and Monica Lewinsky (Am I a stuck in an episode of The Twilight Zone here?).

Okay - just because I am a WOMAN I am going to eliminate James Stewart.

So ... that leaves me with - YOU GOT IT ...

THE BIGGEST CELEBRITY SLUT IN THE HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATE'S GOVERNMENT!

That's who I look like - Monica Lewinsky - minus the cigar (tee hee).

(*holds head up high - wipes tears from her obviously masculine face - tells herself the machine must have malfunctioned or that there was some sort of young-mommy-bloggers conspiracy going on - puts her hankie in her bra - decides to concentrate on the fact that Jennifer Aniston was in the mix - makes note to self that lots of men look like women - swears to not submit a third picture - knows her odds are not good at this point - wonders if Bill Clinton would notice the resemblance - wipes that thought out of her mind - thought is still there - tries harder to wipe that thought out of her mind - takes hankie out of her bra - sobs pathetically ... like a SLUT CAUGHT WITH HER SKIRT HIKED UP ... IN THE OVAL OFFICE*)

On more than one occasion, I have heard my husband say, "What do you want to eat?" on a Saturday afternoon, to Little Billy or Alexis in the kitchen.

If I hear this, I will run as fast as I can into the kitchen, step in front of my husband and say, "No, No, No ... you don't ask them, 'What do you want to eat?'" looking at my very confused husband like he has lost his mind. Then I will pull him aside to explain. "You have to offer them something. You can't give them the choice of ALL the foods in the whole world, for craps sake. Haven't you been watching how I do this all these years? You need to say something like, 'Do you want a peanut butter sandwich or a tuna fish sandwich?"

My husband doesn't seem to understand how long it has taken me to condition these children. I have had to impress upon him constantly that I will not stand by and let him undo all the habits I have successfully managed to change and control. And giving a choice between two specific sandwiches or maybe Spaghetti O's, is all my children expect to be offered. They are not given the choice of ALL the foods in the ENTIRE world!

If, for some reason, I do not manage to catch my husband before he has mindlessly spun this choice web, I have seen where he has been convinced to go to all the trouble of defrosting meat, forming it into a patty and grilling his boy a hamburger. And, I have to give him credit for taking the time to do this for his child, really, but ... I am torn between allowing him to do this sort of thing or correcting him on the way I think things should be done. Because I am the one ... who has to prepare these children most of their future meals, and I do not want them to expect that I am going to defrost meat, form it into a patty and grill them a burger ... every single lunch (I AM JUST NOT!) - I opt for ... setting my husband straight.

On the upside ... This is only one, of many reasons, these children like their father better than me ... and why I am completely convinced that ... I am smarter than him. The choice web - I avoid it at ALL COSTS!

Thank you ALL for your kind comments and support or my last post - I can't tell you how much it means to me to have so many great friends and I hope you know that I am always here for each of you! Thank you!!

I will have a regular post for tomorrow and I look forward to reading all of yours as well - thanks for hearing me out!

See you later.

I have quite a following on my site - right?

Why?

I have had many people comment or e-mail me - over the past 4 months - asking me this very question. Why? How did I do it? Why me?

On one hand, I am a little insulted by this question, as I have dedicate a huge amount of time and creativity into my writing and I would like to think that a percentage of visitors come to my site to read what I have written - hear what I have to say. I'd like to think that they think I am smart and funny and offer entertaining stories and useful information. I like to think that I have earned their respect and therefore they look forward to reading about my children and family and that they feel invested in not only my life, but in my success as a blogger - as well.

I know some of the reasons why I have the following that I have.

I have worked my butt off for 4 months! I have visited thousands of sites. I have left thousands of comments. I have written hundreds of stories and tried very, very hard to make those stories fun and interesting and creative and well written. I have analyzed ways to improve my traffic and even implemented some of those tools. I have tried my very best to fit into this world of Mommy Bloggers and I have done that. I have done everything possible to make friends and make those friends realize how much I need them and how much they mean to me. I have made many, many good friends.

One of the reasons I have so many visitors to my site is because I went out and brought them to me. Many of the friends I have - are ones that I went out and found and the reasons they keep coming back - I believe - is because I continue to support each and every one of those friends. I would be very surprised if any one of my bloggy friends were able to say that this is not true. And, yes, I have some visitors that came across my blog on their own and are now also my friends, but they too would have to say that I am equally as loyal to them by constantly staying in touch and visiting their sites as well.

Everyone of you that has a blog knows just how difficult it is to keep up with a blog. Keep up with posting and visiting other sites. It is nearly impossible to do it every single day. But ... I have tried to do it. I have committed, every single day, to visiting other sites and reading and leaving comments. I visit every single site that leaves me a comment (some days as many as 80 sites). In addition, I visit other sites along the way. In any given day, I can visit 100's of sites. Why do I do this? I do it - to show my loyalty and to encourage loyalty to me. And ... it has been very rewarding.

I think that I have a good site. I think I have a unique format and I have worked very hard to create a positive forum. It is who I am and it works for me because I have tried very hard to build my site on the foundation of strong beliefs. I do not often complain in the normal "ranting" fashion - while I do have many complaints (just like everyone) in my life - just because that is how I have chosen to write on my site. I do complain - but I try to put a funny spin on the story and I do that for several reasons. One, because it often makes for a better story and two, because if I give myself permission to rant - I am afraid I will run crazy ranting all of the time!

I am not perfect - nor do I have perfect kids or do we live a hysterically funny life at my house. I am generally a serious person and yet I have always considered myself to be creative and through my writing I am able to stretch my creative tendencies by writing stories that are funny or touching or stimulating or whatever! I work constantly on my writing techniques to develop new and interesting ways to tell a story. Having this blog has enabled me to see my life (through my writing of these stories) in a different way and see my children and the raising of them - through an entirely new view. I work daily to find a story to write and sometimes I come up with a good story and sometimes I don't. But, I have dedicated a lot of time and energy into finding and documenting these stories for my pleasure and for the pleasure of those that visit my site.

I sometimes feel as though the success I have experienced on my site - creates bad feelings (I won't go into why I say this - but there have been incidents that have occurred). I have never, not even once, used the success of my site to hurt any other blogger. I have tried to do just the opposite by offering many bloggers advise on how I have accomplished my success and been very open to helping anyone that asks. I have always been loyal to every single one of my bloggy friends and invested many hours into getting to know each one individually as best I can. I have always felt embarrassed to post awards I have been given, but feel obliged to recognize those that give me the awards and happy to introduce those individuals to my readers. Awards given from one blogger to another are indeed nice, but they are also a means for bloggers to create traffic to their own sites and I don't have a problem promoting other people's sites and am happy to do that.

I, like everyone, love to receive comments on my posts. I love the feedback and enjoy seeing the ideas or thoughts that something I have written can provoke. I love feeling like I touch people through my stories and my writing. I love telling a good story and love being able to share my children and our lives with all of you. I do not like feeling, though, that any success I have had is in anyway making someone else feel inadequate or unsuccessful. I know very well that there are many bloggers out there that are telling just as many great stories and writing them as well or better than me - that do not have the following I have. I visit many of those bloggers and read those stories. I support those bloggers. I have always searched out bloggers that were hurting for readers, because I know very well how hard it is to create a following and I have made tremendous efforts to find and help those people. I have done this intentionally, as I feel that everyone should be offered the same respect and opportunities as I have enjoyed and I do not hesitate to offer my site and its success as leverage for new or struggling bloggers.

I seldom write my posts "directly" to my audience. I write my stories as if they are "articles" and format my posts in the form of dialog or narritive - I do this on purpose. I am not the sort of blogger that offers a run-down of my daily events or intricate daily details about my children or myslef. I offer some of this information through my stories - but I do not "talk" right to my audience - like I am right now. I have done that on purpose - it is the format or technique I have chosen for my blog. I seldom ever respond to a comment in my comments. I have, on my site, tried to keep a distance between myself and my stories - I do this on purpose. I have attempted to create a site that stands on its own - the stories stand on their own - without my daily moods or personal traits influencing the stories. While I am obviously the one writing the stories and my picture is right there on the front page - I write my posts as a story that offers just a "glimpse" into our lives and who we are - who I am. I do this intentionally and believe that this is part of the reason that people may feel like they really don't know me.

My goal in blogging is to continue to write my stories. To continue to create even more of a following and I won't apologize for that. I want to continue to make friends and support as many people as I can possibly support. I want to only feel that my contribution is positive.

I know there are those people that - no matter what I say or what any of us do - will look for reasons to use my success against me. I can only say that I enjoy the success because I have worked very hard for it. I will continue to work hard for it - as long as I feel it is positive for me.

I began this post - because I was frustrated. I do not want to feel frustrated at anytime - having this blog - that has been such a gift in my life. I felt it was necessary to answer these questions and to also describe some of the feelings I have been experiencing.

I hope I have your continued support and want to impress that you certainly have mine.

If you drive up my driveway and look to the right, this is what you will see:

And this:

This is my side of the driveway - the right side.

Now ... if you drive up the same driveway, and look to the left ... you will see this:

And this:

This is my husbands side of the driveway - the left side.

And ... these aren't even all of his cars. He also has a Corvette (in the garage), a van, a bucket truck, a work truck and a 1977 Lincoln that is stored in a neighbor's garage, down the street - soon to be moved to his side of the driveway.

This is my husband's hobby ---- BECOMING A REDNECK!

On the upside ... I don't think he realizes that this is a BIG OL' REDNECK MESS. That's okay - that's what he has me for --- to tell him that THIS IS A BIG OL' MESS AND IF HE DOESN'T GET SOME OF THESE CARS OUTTA HERE, I AM GOING TO START PUTTING ALL THOSE WHITE SOCKS IN THE FLOWER BEDS AS MULCH (See post: I'll Be The Talk Of The Town ... And Not In A Good Way)!!!

Before I had kids ... I had certain ideas.

Almost every single thing I thought I knew ... was wrong.

Almost every single thing I thought I would never do ... I have done.

Almost every single thing I thought I would never say ... I have said.

Almost every single illusion ... has been dispelled.

The one and only thing I can say that has saved me from all-out-insanity is ...

THE TELEVISION!!

And ... while I truly believe that the one in our van is the most ingenious, life-saving, brilliant, worth-every-single-last-penny, invention ... I am just as grateful for all those TVs just plugged into the walls of our humble house!!

I am.

I don't care if you agree with me.

It is the one thing ... if you told me you were going to take every single item out of my house and I could only choose one thing to keep - I'd give you my nice cozy bed, I'd give you my lap-top (reluctantly), I'd give you my CDs and radios and jewelry and clothes and shoes and nic-nacs and furniture and rugs and toilets and tubs and books and dishes and dogs and cats ... and there they'd be ... my four children, perfectly happy, sitting on the cold tile floor, staring at the screen of our TV - naked - with big ol' smiles on their grubby, dirty faces.

On the upside ... Really, I'm glad I don't have to choose, as I'd be really hard to live with without my clothes and bed and toilet and tub and lap-top and jewelry and lap-top and shoes ...

One day, late in the afternoon at our house, my nephew was standing in our kitchen with my son. I was cooking (an unusual event around here) and my son asked, What are you cooking for dinner?" in a very interested tone. My nephew said, "She's not cooking dinner," in a very confident tone. I said, "Well ... it just so happens ... I am cooking dinner," in defense of myself.

I was not offended by the comment my nephew made, as it is certainly quite an unusual sight to see me cooking and he was obviously confused by my actions. Now, mind you, he is not often around to see the times I actually do attempt to make these dinners for my family, but he is around enough to conclude that, unlike his mother, I am not much of a cook.

I'm not much of a cook at all. I don't like to cook and I'm not interested in learning new or better ways to improve my cooking. I can do many things and I am pretty good at a lot of things - cooking is not one of those things. I do what I can and what I have to, to feed my family - but no more. I can bake just about anything and have been known to do that often, but I am a miserable cook. I am sorry for that.

I am a good house-keeper though. What I lack in cooking skills, I make up for in cleanliness. I think my family would probably trade their clean rooms or bathrooms for a decent meal every dinner time - but it's not ever gonna happen.

I watch the cooking channel on TV a lot, but this does not make me a better cook. My family finds it amusing that I am so obsessed with watching this channel, knowing the poor cook that I am. I'm not sure what it is about these cooks that fascinates me ... but, I watch this channel all the time. My kids watch it too. I think we are all hoping that one day it will finally hit me - this habit of cooking interesting meals in thirty-minutes-or-less. It will never happen. I prefer to watch Rachael Ray slave over a pot of boiling water and turn out these fabulous meals with catchy names like Fiesta Summer Chicken or Tomato-Basil Meatloaf with Baby Garlic Potatoes, than to spend the time creating them myself.

On the upside ... Thanksgiving dinner will be at my house this year, but not to worry ... I'm really only in charge of the rolls, the mashed potatoes, the drinks, the ham and the turkey. That's right ... THE TURKEY! Can you say salmonella poisoning? (*hangs head in shame like a Culinary Institute drop-out*).

My husband and I share responsibilities around our house. One of the responsibilities that I have relinquished (delegated) to my husband is the taking of our animals (2 dogs and 3 cats) to the vet, when necessary.

I however, have taken on the responsibility of administering the medications, such as heart worm pills, to the animals, when needed. To remind myself to give the heart worm pills to our dogs, I draw a tiny little red heart - on my calendar - one each month.

The other day I was sitting at my desk, doing this drawing of the hearts on my two calendars and my husband walked by (*do-de-do ... do-de-do*). He looked over my shoulder, watched what I was doing, but didn't ask a word (not uncommon).

I know very well that he is not at all aware of what these hearts are for (how would he) - but he's never asked. I think he is afraid to ask (Really he just doesn't care. If he actually took the time to investigate all the peculiar stuff I do ... he could never keep up ... he'd lose his mind). Maybe he's asked the kids, "What are those hearts for on your mother's calendar?" ("Duh ... what hearts? Where? Um ... Duh ... I duno."). I doubt it. No ... he's clueless.

I have purposely not told him what they are for. I kind of like him roaming around wondering, "Hmmm ... maybe it's some sort of code - maybe these are the days she meets her lover."

On the upside ... Just keeping him on his toes - that's all.

Yesterday, my mom calls me in a state of panic and says, "Kellan, Kellan ... it's me, Mom (*panting*) (and ... I know it's her) ... how do you ... how do you, oh this darn thing ... how do you turn off the printer? It's just printing and spitting out papers (*more panting and grunting*). I've pushed all the buttons - how do you turn it off?"

And ... not long ago she says to me, after missing a call on her cell phone, "Someone just called and it went to my voicemail - I don't know how to get it outta' there."

I was at the nail salon on Monday and there was this woman my mother's age, getting a pedicure (I don't have the time for pedicures - only nails). She was on her cell phone and the call dropped and she said, "Hello. Hello. Hello. Hello. Hello. Hello," six times. When she reconnected with her party, she then got another call on call-waiting (I say to myself, "uh-oh.") and so she switched over and she said, "Hello. Hello. Hello. Hello. Hello. Hello," six times. I swear (it was funny)! I tried not to stare at her from across the room, but I couldn't help it. Her daughter needs to tell her to, "Stop doing that - you look ridiculous - it doesn't do any good saying it over and over again." I don't think she ever connected back to any of her calls (poor thing).

We all have dropped calls - we do - but my generation has definitely learned and embraced the concepts of the mobile phone and computer. We've diligently dedicated ourselves to learning all of their features - have pretty successfully moved from land-line phones to mobile phones - can load and unload our printer paper - rather easily. Not my mother and her friends.

Note to Mother: The voicemail is a pretty important feature on the mobile phone and ... it doesn't reconnect the call if you say, "Hello," six times - it doesn't work.

And, while I am capable of flashing over to a call-waiting call without losing both callers, able to retrieve my voice mail messages daily, able to set my alarm, use my phone calculator and take pictures ... I have to admit that I have yet to master texting (*sigh*).

One day recently, I was making the attempt to text a message to one of my daughters and there I was: (e,e,e,)=C, (e)=A, (eee)=L, (eee)=L, (e)=M, (ee)=E (CALL ME) - it took me 20 minutes to enter this one message (after all the mistakes, starting over erroneously, having difficulty with the sending of it ...). This is where I will be technologically left behind by my children's generation. It starts with the texting and will just go on from there (not that I have ever grasped the concepts of the telegraph, radio waves, microwaves, electricity, airplanes ...).

My brother lives in an older house and on the wall in his kitchen is a wall mounted, rotary dial phone. One of those we used to actually have to lease to have in our houses. Every so often, I intentionally use this phone to make outgoing calls - just so I can use that rotary dial. Those were the good ole' days - when the phone was always in the same place you left it, the mechanics of the thing were self explanatory and they came in colors to match your kitchen appliances.

My kids - they all ignore the rotary phone at my brother's house. I think they are confused by it. Scared of it. Can't quite figure out how to use it. I'm not sure what they think of this relic - but, I love it. It represents a simpler time (not that I want to go back).

On the upside ... my mother has me to help her with the gadgets she doesn't understand and my girls are thrilled that their daddy is fixing up his old 1969 Mustang for them. It won't have airbags, power steering, power breaks or power windows - but I'm sure he could paint it to match their cell phones or IPODS ... if they just want to text him and ask (cuz that's all they do ya know - text all day long - you can't a.c.t.u.a.l.l.y talk to these children!).