Meridian reader Trent Caskey writes: “My brother picked his 3-year-old daughter up from preschool the other day. She was wearing a pretty pink shirt that said ‘Princess’ on it. As he was helping her out of the car, and he said, ‘There’s my little Princess.’ She replied: ‘No, Dad, I’m a child of God.’” Come laugh with us.
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Desperate Times, Desperate Measures
One evening while my wife was away, our four young children reminded me that they had not yet had desert. I searched everywhere and was only able to find one stale marshmallow. I told them we were going to play a game where they would pretend to be little puppy dogs. The object of the game would be to see who could take the tiniest bite. In turn, the three oldest took very tiny bites. The youngest, age 2, snarfed down the whole marshmallow and with an impish grin, gleefully announced: “I lose!”
São Paulo, Brazil
Mystery at Grandpa’s House
We recently returned from visiting Grandma and Grandpa in Iowa, and this is what my 6 year old reported:
James: Mom, Grandpa has a de-humiliator in his room downstairs.
Mom: Hmm, I didn’t know that. I didn’t see it when I was down there.
James: Well, that’s because he keeps it locked up behind the door. It has a big bucket of water that he pours down the drain.
Mom: Wonder why he keeps it locked up?
James: Probably so a dog doesn’t drink the water. (Grandpa does not have a dog)
Mom: Oh. What would happen if the dog drank the water?
James: Well, he’d be humiliated.
Pretty Pretty Princess
My brother picked his 3-year-old daughter up from preschool the other day. She was wearing a pretty pink shirt that said “Princess” on it. As he was helping her out of the car, and he said “There’s my little Princess.” She replied: “No, Dad, I’m a child of God.”
The other night my husband and I were wrestling with a parenting question. Unsure of how to proceed, my husband suggested we Google the question online. After a slight hesitation, I countered: “Or we could pray about it.” I’m sure you can guess which path we ended up taking.
Stepping Up to the Plate
Retiring after 34 years of being a teacher and dean in a junior high school, my husband and I moved to North Logan, Utah. Warmly welcomed, I was quickly assigned to chair a dinner sponsored by the Primary. I talked to several people on the committee, took their ideas, and prepared a plate of food to be approved or improved by the entire group. When called upon, I put the sample plate on a table where everyone could see it, and asked if there were any suggestions. Because there was mutual agreement that it would be successful, I sat back and waited for the president to move on. Instead, Anne looked at me in awe and said: “Are you sure you’re a Mormon?”
North Logan, Utah
Trish Manwaring is an assistant editor of Meridian Magazine.