Courtesy of John Michael

"Awissa, wissa, I taught Max a new trick."

"Really? Show me!"

"Watch this. . . Wook. Awissa. Wook."

"John, say look."

"Lll. . .ook."

"Okay, I'm watching now."

(He holds the treat in the air and places it in front of our dog, Max.)

"Eat, Max, eat!"

Dog Happily takes treat without having to do any tricks to earn it.

Besides be a dog, of course.

"See, wook. He's eating it!"

"John, he already knew how to do that."

"No, wook, his tail is wagging!"

"John, say 'look.'"

"Lll . . .ook."

Oh the mind of a seven year old.

My brother is an excellent dog trainer. If your dog has problems eating treats, you know who to call :)

Radiant Tales: Chapter Eighteen

This is a significant post.

It correlates with my eighteenth birthday :) That could be good or bad.

Or both, I guess.

My birthday began at five thirty.

 . . . am.

with my ever faithful alarm clock that gets louder and louder the longer I lay in bed. I jumped out of bed and felt like I was about to throw up. I almost collapsed, too. Just for future reference, when you have a cold and are under serious sleeep deprivation, don't ever get a flu shot.

ever.

After this near fainting-spell of mine, I beelined it to my light switch, turned off my alarm, flipped on the light, and gasped.

Sitting on my desk in my room was my very own vase of flowers.

I couldn't smell them, though, because I lost my sense of smell due to my cold. Fortunately, I could imagine the sweet aroma because of how beautiful they were.

Next, I had an eventful day at school. I don't think I've ever recieved so many "Happy Birthday!" greetings in my life. However, my dear friend, Christina, is partially to blame for all that. She made me wear a tiara all day.

All. Day.

I love tiara's so much. I just hate being the center of attention, and I don't really love everyone knowing that it's my birthday. But I love Christina, and so I wore it.

And I was happy.

My mother made a beautiful cheesecake for me. In my opinion, it's one of the most divine deserts that man has created.

We played "Pin your name on Alissa's name" and "Sallé vous passé." And,

drum roll please.

I blew out

all

the candles

with one breath.

Doesn't that mean my wish will come true? I hope so :)

But maybe what I've learned after having had eighteen birthdays, eighteen times to make a wish and hope that it comes true, and eighteen years to live on earth, I've learned about what is really important to me.It can't be wished with one hundred candles, opened with one hundred presents, or purchased with one hundreed birthday dollars.

That which is precious is invisible to the eyes.

Recently, I've thought a lot about family and what they really mean to me. I've grown up past all the little girl tantrums where I couldn't understand why my parents wouldn't buy me a certain barbie doll or a special toy. I've grown up past all the misunderstandings of early curfews and dishes nights.

My parents love me.

Even when I'm scared, angry, depressed, and irritated at how intimidating college and growing up seem, they still love me. That may sound really cliche,  but when you add up all the hours my dad spends at work, at church, and all the little service inbetween, it's easy to see how much he loves me. My dad is willing to sacrifice anything for me. Including his health. My dad gives me everything and never complains. My mother has given me everthing as well, and I hope someday I can grow up to be like her. She hates her gray hairs, but I think that she doesn't get them from getting older. It's probably from me that they come. My mother will do everything for me from running me to Provo to take care of medical stuff to checking me out or excusing me from class when I need extra homework time. Heavenly Father has opened my eyes and let me see how much my parents do for me.

I constantly ask myself this question before I say my evening prayers. "If I were to wake up tomorrow with only the things I was grateful for tonight, what would I have?"

And I always make sure I thank Him for my parents. If they were the only blessings I had in this life, it would be enough. It. would. be. enough.

I'm grateful for the eighteen years that Heavenly Father has blessed me to live with this  wonderful family of mine. Sometimes when comparing the possessions I have to what others have, I feel like I don't have hardly anything. But even if I don't have the latest dress, shoes, or car, I have learned this: I am rich. Oh, so very rich.

Love, Sunshine

Basket-Ball Games, Caveman Style.

First of all, I am not a big sports person. I like to bike ride, I can play tag, sometimes I'll serve a volley-ball, and every once in a while I can smack a baseball.

. . . once in a while.

I can't dribble a basket-ball down the court to save my life.

I detest swimming.

Golfing is ridiculous.

I don't can't usually throw Frisbees in a straight line.

And if you ever see me playing football, just pray that I don't get tackled and die.

Thank you.

Let's just say that if I didn't have sports in my life, I could survive.

But there are sometimes when even I enjoy/attempt playing the afore mentioned sports, and then there are those increasingly frequent times where I will even attend such sporting events.

Unbeknownst to me, American Fork High has a pretty decent basket-ball team which has a few traditions of it's own.

My friend invited me to attend the AFHS Varsity basket-ball game on Friday night. I mostly went because I wanted to take a break. And (don't tell anyone) I was just a little bit scared to go. You see, I have never . . .

*clearing of throat*

never been to a basket-ball game at AFHS.

All you lovely sophomores out there, take advantage of that wonderful activity card that displays your beautiful face to the whole world and GO TO THE GAMES!!!!

We found a pretty decent seat. I wasn't expecting much because even if it is decent, I'll wind up standing on my tip toes because everyone in the student section stands up the whole time. Even when I'm standing on the bleacher seats, I still can't see. But hey, that's what happens when you're the minority. Anyway, the game starts and before you know it, we've scored eleven points. And then, one of our Cavemen shoots a three pointer and makes it.

All of a sudden, just as I'm about to shout hooray, everybody - everybody - takes a step back and sits down. Pretty soon, I've got three people in my face. I was practically in shock.

Yes, my dear friends. Apparently, it is tradition for us to do that every time we shoot and make a three pointer.

It seems weird. I mean, they shoot a three-pointer and you sit down when it seems you should jump up for joy. I've never actually sat down for joy, but, hey, there's a first for everything.

We won the game, something like fifty-eight to thirty-five. And it was honestly the funnest sports game I've been to since football ended.

Actually, it was pretty fun to play basket-ball with the girl cheerleaders in my PE class. It's a good thing they chose to be cheerleaders. But we won't go into that :)

And it was pretty fun to watch how those guys could pick up the ball with one hand. I have to hold it with two, and even then it's huge.

So, the moral of this story?

It's fun to watch them score the points.

As for me? I am content to sit down for joy.

:)

Love, sunshine.