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On Parenting at the Washington Post — My son, who at 3 years old was certainly a talking machine but not terribly comfortable composing verse and rhyme, sat down one night at the dining room table, regarded his cutup hot dog, looked at Mom and me, then looked down, folded his hands and intoned, and I quote:
“God our father, God our father
Once again, once again
Thank you for our blessings, thank you for our blessings
Ah-Amen, Ah-Amen
For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son.
What’s his name?
Jesus!
Hallelujah!”
The first verse was deployed to the tune of “Frere Jacques.” The second he punctuated with a merry grin, one hand splayed in the air as if he had just drained a three-pointer at the buzzer in a teen sports movie from 1986. Then he dipped his hot dog in his “bar-de-coo” sauce and demolished dinner. He was delightfully oblivious to the fact that his mom and I were watching him, stone-faced, forks held mid-chomp, as if he had just informed us that he’d been working on a unified theory of physics and would soon be leaving to return to his home planet of Flthhhpbt.
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November 4th, 2016 at 11:40 am
Exactly! Both our kids went to a Christian day care for all the reasons you stated. Plus it made my Mom happy, lol, since we weren’t regular church attenders. And I gotta say, I was always tickled to hear them sing all those songs I’d learned as a child in church every Sunday. Voices of angels, to be sure. Great stuff, as usual, Jeff. Go Cubs! 🙂
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November 4th, 2016 at 12:08 pm
Thanks, Belle! Are you at the parade??
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November 4th, 2016 at 12:12 pm
Enjoying it from our home in Central Illinois. Unbelievable, isn’t it?
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