Category: Family

While in Chicago recently, my friends and I attended Mass at the Cathedral.  About two minutes after we left, my friend Rick realized that he had forgotten his hat, a weather-beaten old baseball cap.  He went back to get it.

We proceeded to dine at Harry Carry’s Restaurant–where I was introduced to that amazing beer, La Fin du Mond, but that’s another post.  Anyhow, about one minute after we left, Rick realized that he had forgotten his hat, and went back to get it.

As he rejoined the group, I scrutinized his head gear more closely.  “You know,” I commented, “now that I look at it, that hat is pretty forgettable!”

Tina the three-year-old recently looked out the window and commented, “The trees are moving!”

Bernadette responded, “No, it’s just the wind.”

Tina peered out the window again to re-assess.  “No,” she said, “it’s the trees!”

At Mass a couple of days ago, the lector was reading St. Stephen’s speech in Acts, and proclaimed rather boldly:

“You stiff-necked people, uncircumscribed in heart and ears, you always resist the Holy Spirit!”

A few moments later, the homilist commented on John 6, saying that the Bread from Heaven brings us “immorality”–then hastily corrected the word to “immortality.”

Tina the three-year-old recently announced, “I’m working for Peter Pan!”

The context turned out to be that she was working at cleaning the living room so that she would watch a movie called “Peter Pan.”  But it provided me a momentary grin.

[Housekeeping note:  I took a long trip and returned to a backlog of work, so I fell off the blogwagon in a serious way.  But I kept some notes along during those days, so for a while now the FTT will be a “one time recently” kind of thing rather than strictly a “today” kind of thing.]

Bernadette the twelve-year-old:  “Dinosaurs like -”

Isaiah the nine-year-old: “Dinosaurs don’t exist!  They’re extinct!”

Bernadette: “Dinosaurs will eat anyone who says that!

Isaiah: “Hah!  That’s proof that they don’t exist, because I said it and they didn’t eat me!”

Bernadette: “They didn’t hear you.”

Isaiah: “Yes they did!”

I took the kids to the city Easter-egg hunt.  It took place on Holy Saturday, but I have a complicated and Jesuitical theory to explain why that was OK.

All the eggs in the city hunt are plastic.  Most contain little stickers or rubber trinkets; some contain numbers, which can be turned in for little prizes; and one egg, the golden egg, is redeemable for the Grand Prize–a bicycle or something.  It’s a madcap, five-minute event, with people running everywhere.

As happened last year, Tina only picked up one egg.  She got her one egg, put it in her basket, and stared at it happily–unable to comprehend why everyone else was rushing around to get more eggs.  Her aunt took pity on her and had one of the cousins share, so Tina came home with two eggs.

When we got home, Tina began insisting that I cook her eggs.  She had already opened the eggs and discovered the rubber trinkets; the other kids tried explaining that the eggs are plastic; but she only became more insistent that I should cook her eggs.  So finally I distracted her, hid her plastic eggs, and cooked up a couple of regular eggs.

And after that she was happy.  No wonder she didn’t understand the rush to gather more and more eggs:  who could eat that many?

[P.S. I think the election of a Jesuit to the papacy elevates my rationalization to a “papal theory.”]

Inspired by Pope Francis’s emphasis on serving the poor, for the Triduum I bought a book about the corporal and spiritual works of mercy.  After reading the chapter about feeding the hungry, I did notice how often I get snacks for the kids.

Just as I turned the page to begin the chapter about clothing the naked, Tina the three-year-old appeared in the door–entirely naked.  “Papa,” she said, “I can’t find any clothes!”

I suppose with regard to my own kids it’s more of a work of justice than a work of mercy.

I took the kids to confession on Good Friday.  We had a plethora of priests this Triduum:  Fr. Dave was in the confessional to the right, Fr. Andy in the confessional to the left, and Fr. Sieker had set up shop in the cry room.

As we waited in Fr. Andy’s line, a college student came out into the church and signaled to me.  When I approached, she pointed out the door and whispered, “Fr. Sieker is in the cry room.”

I couldn’t resist:  “Is he OK?”

Tina the three-year-old has left behind the innocence of youth and entered the stage of wanna-be stealth.  She recently entered the kitchen on her way toward the back door, carrying a bundle awkwardly wrapped with a towel.  She stopped to get Jacinta’s attention.

“Mama,” she said, “I don’t have any scissors.”

I have been cyber-silent for the past few days in honor of the Triduum, but life has not ceased to be funny.  So I need to toss up a backlog of posts.

A small funny:  Tina the three-year-old continues to call any park a “parking lot.”  So when we recently walked past a yard with a swing and slide, she called out, “There’s the parking lot!  There’s the parking lot!”