The other day when Kel's kids were over, they got to running around the house, as they usually eventually get to pretty much every time they come over. On rare occasions they have to be prodded a bit by whispered warnings or surprise attack tickle-bouts, but most of the time they figure out a way to get started on their own. Jachin and Micah had been running around the house, first chasing each other and then challenging and running from their Nana. Kel watched in silence for a long time, then finally said in exasperation, "Slow down. You are acting like a bunch of hooligans. Jachin replied matter-of-factly, "But we are hooligans. We were born that way." Your fault, Dad.
And Cailyn was over yesterday. For a few hours it was just she and I, when Chris took Mom took Wednesday Club. That's the group of ladies that get together once a month or so to talk about books they have read or experiences they have had covering a theme for the year. Chris has missed quite a few meetings for one reason or another, so I don't know what the theme is for this year. But she said yesterday they talked about Pearl Harbor. It was the anniversary of the bombing that drew the United States into World War II. Now, Chris is the youngest member of the club right now, and most of the other ladies have a good twenty or thirty years on her. That meant they actually lived through the event. They had boyfriends and brothers and fathers who were in Pearl Harbor at the time. The most interesting tidbit I heard her share was that the survivors of the attack were given postcards to send to their loved ones at home. But all they were allowed to write on them was that they were alive. They could say nothing about the attack or the extent of the damage they could see. All that was considered top secret and a matter of national security. When the local mailmen realized what was happening with the postcards, they began to watch for them. When one came through on their route, they would deliver the card at any hour of the day or night so the families could know their loved one was safe. Fascinating stuff.
Meanwhile Cailyn and I watched some Caillou videos on the computer. Then it was time for DadDad to be the baby and she would be the Mommy. That meant I had to go to school. She read some books to me. Actually she borrowed my trick of talking about the pictures rather than actually reading the story. And she used the same words and action I had used earlier. Gotta be careful there. But she did make an interesting comment. At one point she told me she was playing with someone. Always fascinated by imaginary playmates, I inquired as to jus who it was that had come into my house when I wasn't looking. She replied, "It's OK, DadDad. It's just my baby sister." Quickly I asked, "And what's your baby sister's name?" She twisted her mouth to the side, wrinkling her nose. Her eyebrows furrowed in deep thought. Suddenly, her entire countenance lit up. Her eyes opened wide, and her mouth followed. She jerked to a sitting position, threw her shoulders back, and announced, "It's Viva. My little sister's name is Viva." I repeated it to be sure I had it right. Then I asked, "What if it was little boy? What would his name be?" I knew I was treading on thin ice here. Imaginary friends who don't really exist are hard to imagine when the actual imaginary friend who does exist for the moment is right there. She pondered for a moment, but was able to come up with, "Vivo. His name is Vivo." And that did it. End of discussion. Back to the hard work of play. So, Nathan and April. The ball is in your court, I guess.
Isaiah 29:13 says, "The Lord says: 'These people come near to me with their mouth and honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me. Their worship of me is made up only of rules taught by men.'"
Father, help me, help Seaside, always to give you honor with more than man made rules, but with our lives instead. Amen.
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