On a recent, very warm day at church, I made fans of the programs for my children to use. (Seriously, it was roasting. The a/c apparently wasn't switched on, I was ninety months pregnant, Bradley was at home with a sick Hebs, and the only place Gee was planning on sitting was my (nearly-non-existent) lap. Where he promptly fell asleep. Leaving me to concentrate on the ever-growing sweat-splotches on my pretty church shirt. Oh, and trying not to faint or throw up from sheer heat exhaustion. I, unfortunately, did not get a lot of spiritual meaning out of that meeting.)
Anyway, back to the fans. As I was folding Gee's, he kept tugging at my shirt and saying, "I need a ah DOO-declarh, Momma."
"A what, dear?" I asked, concentrating on my folding.
"A ah DOO-declarh!"
We went through about four rounds of this before I finally figured out what he was saying.
"I do declare!" As in a southern belle, fluttering her eyelashing behind her fan. Heh heh heh. I have weird children.
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That same day I subbed during sharing time, sitting with Gee's class as their teacher was unexpectedly absent. The story of Jesus and the Ten Lepers was told.
"Most people wouldn't touch or talk to people with leprosy, because they were afraid they would get sick with leprosy and die, too. But Jesus always talked to the lepers. Why did He do this?" the teacher asked, hoping to lead the children to realize that Jesus loves everyone, even the lepers. She called on Zee.
"I know why Jesus talked to the lepers! It was because He knew He couldn't die!"
Such is the logic of a six-year-old.
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