I overheard Mr. C, holding one of his army guys, saying, “I don’t shoot girls with blue dresses or white dresses…just those with pink dresses, purple dresses, and green dresses–they’re the BAD girls!” I felt a little better when I realized the context–he was aiming his army guy’s gun at Cinderella’s stepmother and stepsisters.
I’m not the only one around here who has noticed how loud Little E can be. After a particularly ear-piercing noise from Little E, Mr. C said, “When E makes a sound, it makes the table break, it’s so scared!”
One Sunday, Greg found a baby bird who had wandered onto the sidewalk leading from the children’s wing at church. He was concerned that the bird would either get trampled by unsuspecting children or distracted parents leaving first service or that it would wander into the street to be run over by frazzled drivers in church traffic. So, he found a stick (how sweet is my husband?) and persuaded the shaky little bird to hop onto it and then carried it to a safer place. Our kids weren’t with us when this happened, but when I picked up Mr. C from childcare later, I told him what his hero dad had done. When we met up with Little E, I asked Mr. C to tell her about the baby bird Daddy saved. He proceeded to tell her the story, but when he was finished, Little E came up with a different ending. She said with relish, “And someone came up and hit the baby bird!!” Wow. Maybe we should put her back into the church childcare a little longer–apparently what they’re teaching there hasn’t quite taken yet.
At church, Mr. C learned a song to sing before eating, a song of thanksgiving for the food, and he taught it to the rest of us. It goes like this: “God, we thank You; God, we thank You for our food, for our food. We are very thankful; we are very thankful. Amen, amen.” After hearing it a few times, Little E came up with a better version: “God, we thank You; God, we thank You for our food, for our food. We are very special; we are very special. Amen, amen.”