Honesty is the Best Policy

"Brush your teeth and get in the van for swimming lessons. We need to leave in five minutes," I yelled at my kids this morning, as I stood sentinel at the doorway.

First down was Parker.

"Did you brush your teeth?"

"Yes."

"You may proceed to the van," I said stepping away from the door.

Next came McKay.

"You forgot to wear shoes," I reminded her.

"Oh, yeah," she said, heading back for flip-flops. I would think that wearing shoes would come automatically to most people, but not McKay. Once I went to unload her from the van only to discover she was barefoot. Her ballet bag saved us that day, as she danced her way through the store in ballet slippers.

Finally, Deacon made it down the stairs.

"Did you brush your teeth?"

"Yes, sir, mom-o," he announced, as I let him by. "I also left the water running in the bathroom sink and made a house out of toilet paper."

What? I raced upstairs. Yep, Deacon was correct on both accounts.

Alright, the out-the-door mommy questions are going to be tougher from now on. "Did you brush your teeth? Will I need to file an insurance claim when I return home based on any of your actions today? Should I stop at Costco and buy another case of toilet paper?"

Oh, yeah, nothing's going to get by me now.

Spiritual Moments

Ahh, family home evening, the one night a week where our family gathers together to learn about Lamanite toileting habits.

Tonight Deacon had the scripture. "Let me go get the dictionary," he announces, running off. "Dictionaries have great scriptures in them!"

He returns with a pocket-sized German-English dictionary and begins reading. "The Lamanites pooped fire out of their bums."

He turns the page. "Then they stuck their fingers in the fire, and their fingers were dead!!!"

He continues to read about various body parts getting burned by fire, until he announces, "Then their whole bodies fell in the fire, and they died. But they came back to life. There they are behind the couch! And they're shooting me!"

At which point screaming erupts as all the children run from the Lamanites.

Calm is restored, and McKay teaches us the story of the Tree of Life. I'm asking the children to explain the symbolism behind the fruit, the iron rod, etc., and they're doing remarkably well. I'm impressed. Then I ask, "What does the great and spacious building represent?"

Parker responds, in all seriousness, "Barack Obama."

The lesson went downhill from there. "What could be some of the filthiness of the world, that the river could be representing?"

Parker had an idea. "Like those bikini girls in Las Vegas with an American flag on their bikinis."

I'm wondering how Parker knows about Las Vegas bikini girls, as I answer, "Yes...that could be filthiness."

McKay interrupts, "Wait, I thought the dirty river was chocolate milk."

Trying to bring a little spirituality back into the lesson, I conclude with a question. "So, what do you learn from the story of the Tree of Life?"

Parker exclaims, "Never wear a bikini! Especially if you're a man!"

Yep. That's family home evening around here.

A Reasonable Battle

I’m exercising when Deacon comes bursting into my room, swinging a shoelace.

“I’m Indiana Jones and this is my rope,” he declares, his shoelace twirling circles in the air. “Watch out! There’s a giant rock rolling towards us!”

Deacon dives out of the way, doing a few rolls across the floor for good measure. “That was a close one.”

Parker enters the scene, shooting a Nerf dart gun at Deacon. “I am a bad guy!” he declares, rapidly firing foam darts.

"Not today!” Deacon yells, charging straight at Parker with his shoelace swinging.

After a few minutes of intense dart gun and shoelace fight, it becomes apparent to Deacon that his shoelace is no match for a rapid action Nerf gun. He does what every superhero should try in the heat of battle. He walks straight up to Parker and says in a calm voice, “I am the good guy. You cannot shoot me. You are the bad guy.”

When all else fails, try attacking your enemy with reason.

May the Force be with You

Five minutes into Sacrament meeting today, the first counselor announces the opening song.

"We will now sing on page 60, 'The Battle Hymn of the Republic.'"

Parker excitedly asks, "Are we singing a Star Wars song?"

Music was making Parker think today. The congregation was standing to sing the rest hymn. In the quiet lull of singing between verses one and two, he asked, "Why don't these pews come equipped with built-in whoopee cushions?"

You have much to learn, young Parker.