I’m sat reading, minding my own business, grabbing a moment to myself before the next round of nose wiping, Calpol and hot water bottle filling begins. Miss M is having a perky moment. You know, the ones kids get when their temperature has dropped and they actually feel human for a while. She is sat near our tree playing quietly while Mr B snores on the settee and Miss E is playing Barbies in her room.
Miss M: ”Hooray, Mummy, my found Jesus.”
I look up at my little girl, a gleeful smile on her face. I’m not really sure what to say, I mean, well it’s not the sort of thing you expect to hear from a 3 year old is it?
An ex-con who’s finally found a way to go straight perhaps?
Or a not really very committed atheist hoping to hedge his bets on his deathbed?
Or even Jesus’ mother, Mary, at the end of a very long game of hide and seek when she’s ready to settle down with a drink and good, erm, parchment.
But a 3 year old?
MIss M: ”He was under de drawers Mummy.”
And with that she plops the small plastic effigy back beside his small plastic parents and lets out a satisfactory sigh.
And I go back to my book, another moment of madness avoided in chez Beaufoix.
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December 21st, 2008 at 3:24 pm
priceless.
December 21st, 2008 at 8:37 pm
To think poor little Jesus was lost and then He was found, by a 3 year old, no less.
December 22nd, 2008 at 2:39 am
OH come on, they totally wrote on papyrus back then! Duh!
December 22nd, 2008 at 4:51 am
Cami, it made me giggle to myself.
Finely Tuned and gorgeous woman, I think he’d have like that. ;D
Lilacs, that’s the one I was after. Papyrus. I will change it just go you. x
December 22nd, 2008 at 6:39 am
whose drawers?
December 23rd, 2008 at 1:00 am
Sometimes the things that come out of the mouths of babes are nothing short of divine.