#1
I procured tickets to see Peter Pan on Broadway (thanks Mama!). We have seats that are just in reach of fairy dust. Clearly this pales in comparison to the Monster Truck Jam, but having your mama there has got to count for something. And John and I can both vouch for that if all goes well.
#2
Cathy Rigby is Peter Pan. She is going to swing out on her fishing line cable and sprinkle the people in rows A-J with pixie dust. Just because we are in Row N doesn't mean that we are losers. On the contrary. We just don't want to get dirty, that's the thing.
#3
Brian lost and found his wallet. From what we can piece together, it apparently took a ride on the back of his car through Green Hills, suffered through a rain storm and several beatings by various Hummers, and then magically was found by an elderly opera fanatic, who called yesterday requesting a pick up of the item. He also included -- for John's sake I think ... he was along for the pickup -- a half-eaten box of chocolates. We had been eating out of the box for an entire day when we finally thought to look at the name of the candies. Since then, much fun has been had with the name.
#4
Sam has discovered that he is a real person capable of controlling things (me). Usually I am trying to eat him up with kisses, but there is that other, um ... 49% of the time wherein I am breathing deep and "managing" him. Today we had some humdinger moments; HOWEVER, every single day of my life I longingly say, "WE.SHOULD.BE.RECORDING.HIM!" and Brian agrees wholeheartedly. But then one of the children dumps out an entire bag of expensive, organic dried cranberries and we forget. Tonight what I want to remember is his nightly desire to sing the "Blessing Song" that is, apparently, the gold standard at all 37211 preschools. The words are set to "Are You Sleeping Brother John" in case that helps:
God our father
God our father
Once again
Once again
We bow our heads to thank you
Bow our heads to thank you
Amen.
Amen.
So normally we humor him by singing this before every meal, but tonight as I was in John's room saying goodnight and Brian was in bed with Sam, John and I noticed that they were singing the song without us, and there were such hilarious interludes that we almost had to disturb the show with trips to the bathroom.
Sam sings "God our Father" like this:
NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FIRST WE SING GOD THE FATHER. (cue finger entwinement and head bowing)
God our father
God our father
One sageen.
One sageen.
We found our heads to thank you
Found our heads to thank you
GAH-men.
GAH-men.
What follows is typically John's nightly dinnertable invective on the pronunciation of "amen," but tonight -- because we were in bed and not at the table? -- John just listened with me and enjoyed. And despite the fact that Sam had a major coughing episode just after the words "thank you," he still managed to get in the usual double dose of wholehearted "GAHmen."
My Sunday school class today was all about prayer and how we each define it. It was a fascinating discussion. But in the end, I think I was left with the emphasis on just doing it. Just getting through to the end. Imagine! Not having our minds wander or falling asleep or getting distracted by filthy craisins. Starting and finishing a prayer -- however we define praying -- is WAY more important than what we say.
OUS, and hoping you make it to GAH-men,
k
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