Okay, one last parental story and then Mojo's off for the weekend. This is actually a GRANDparental story, since it involves my grandfather, who was a professor at Penn State. (And only, like, THE most popular prof at the time--he always said his highest honor was winning the first "Professor Snarf" award, which was an annual fundraiser and popularity contest. With 19,000 votes he received nearly TWICE the votes of the runner-up. Clearly Mojo did not get her charming personality from HIM.... but once again I digress.) He taught forestry, so unless you happen to be a forester (meaning the profession, NOT the car) there's a really good chance you've never heard of him. So I'll go ahead and claim he was a WORLD RENOWNED FORESTER, since none of you foresterless jamokes will ever know the difference. (So now in addition to your constant Mojo-worship you can ooh and ahh over Mojo's lofty gene pool, as well.)

One of the things about having a forester in the family is, you hear lots of forester jokes and anecdotes that you would otherwise NEVER HEAR.  MORE Mojo! »