Poor Tim has had an on-again off-again minor stomach ailment that manifested itself again this morning. He threw up after breakfast.
(The big bowl we always send around with a sick kid).
After a bath and some comfort, he asks me, “Mom, I want that thing with the oil on my head like from church.”
“Do you mean a blessing?”
“Yes. I want that.”
So, after that rather spiritual request, he sat in a chair and piped up, right before Tom started the blessing, “I’ll have a blessing . . . and then some chocolate cake.”
I guess if a blessing is going to fix everything, why not eat chocolate cake.
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