Thoughts on Monkey Snacks

In our family, we call Tootsie Rolls monkey snacks and they are one of Greg's favorite things to eat. In honor of that, we considered wrapping some favorite stories about Greg into some toostie roll wrappers. We decided against it because it didn't make the tootsie rolls sound all that appetizing once we had handled them that much. So instead, here are some favorite stories about Greg that he can enjoy while eating his own tootsie rolls.

(From Liz)
Greg and I had a running joke for a couple of years about how I think that paper cuts are the most painful things. I whine more about paper cuts than pretty much anything else that might cause me pain. So when I was in hard labor with Will and we were waiting for the anesthesiologist to show up, I was in a lot of pain. The nurse said, "breathe into the pain and try not to curl your toes and you'll feel better." That was worthless. Then Greg asked, "is it worse than a paper cut?" I thought it was pretty funny. But apparently, the nurse shot Greg the dirtiest look.

(From Jeremy)
In the summers when Greg was in high school and I was in junior high, he would sometimes invite me to tag along with him and his friends on their 2am runs to Denny's. I'm not sure he ever realized how cool I thought it was to be able to tag along with him.

(From Charlotte)
For Greg's 1th birthday we decided to surprise him with a Shih-Tzu puppy. He been asking for a dog forever. So I got him out of school one afternoon and told him we were going to go see if he wanted this aquarium full of fish that a lady was selling. We got to her house and she answered the door. "Perfect timing," she said, "I just finished giving them a bath." Greg looked at me and whispered "She gives her fish a bath?" We went in the house and saw all the puppies rolling around. "Mon," Greg said to me, with a lot of love in his voice, "You're so full of shit." I replied, "I think that's the nicest thing youve ever said to me."

(From Tate)
GWEN!!!!!!

(From Jeremy)
I remember asking Greg about his trnasition out of vegetarianism during his mission. "Well," he said, "there's a certain satisfaction in eating for dinner the fowl that woke you up that morning."

(From Kristen L.)
IF THIS MAN ASKS YOU TO TEND HIS BONZAI TREES, RUN AWAY

(From Charlotte)
I remember being reprimanded by Greg when I made a comment about Reid Nibley's eccentric grooming habits during piano camp. "Mom," Greg said sternly, "He's the smartest man I've ever met."

(From Rea)
Once Grandma told Greg they were going to have french fries. So she asked him to peel a potato. "Potato? I thought we were having french fries." "We are," Grandma said, "I'm making them." Greg replied, "I didn't know french fries were made out of potatoes!"

(From Michelle)
A Haiku on Human Geography
by Michelle
How many giraffes
currently live on Saturn?
Why, zero, of course!

(From Michelle)
[Phone rings.]
Greg (in old lady voice): Hellooo?
Michelle: Hey! It's your favorite sister!
Greg: Jeremy???
That still makes me laugh

(From Michelle)
I'm not sure whether Mom put Greg in charge of Saturday cleaning or whether he took it upon himself to give orders. The World Book Encyclopedia of 1972 that we had featured picutres of all the ranks and insignia used by the Army and Greg would use those pictures to assign us ranks based on our performance. I'm pretty sure I never got past the rank of Private. And I still dislike housecleaning. And the military. But I do admire Greg's appreciation of cleanliness.

(From Charlotte)
Once dad was tubing with Greg down at the college. Greg had a very close call, just barely missing a big boulder. Dad was so relieved that he started laughing. Greg replied, "I DON'T THINK THAT'S FUNNY, NOT ONE LITTLE BIT!"

(From Jeremy)
Not only was it a blast to play in a percussion duo with my older brother, but it also came in handy later on. For some reason, when Greg and Liz and Kristen and I were first married, it seemed like every time we got together the girls would start talking about menstruation. EVERY TIME. It became Greg's habit, every time the conversation began to veer in the direction of feminine hygiene, to say, "Jeremy, why don't we go ply the xylophone?" That is now our standard euphemism for escaping from an uncomfortable conversation -- even if there is no xylophone present. (From Liz: for the record, I have no recollection of those events.)