Let's All Get Wet and Cold!

There was a time when I enjoyed playing outside in snow. That time is no more. I'm more than happy, though, to let the kids live out their childhood snow fantasies, as long as my involvement is limited to preparation, and post-play hot chocolate.

Here they are, almost ready to go out. Mim lacks her coat. Don't worry, Grandma, she did wear one. They are planning to build a snowfort. Mim's job is to gather snowballs, and she has developed a technique which involves using slush from the creek as a hard center. Have I mentioned that I'm glad I'm not outside?

I forgot to have either child make a pit stop before they suited up, so I'm not sure how long they'll be able to make it. What a rookie mistake! You'd think I would know better after almost nine years of parenting. With any luck, they'll be too excited to think about it for a while.

Yesterday they made a tiny little lump of a snowman, then saw that he had magically grown when they woke up this morning. Daddy was the magician. He made this big fella on the remains of its predecessor very early this morning as he left for work. He's the best daddy in the world.

Plagues are People Too?

We studied the Bubonic Plague this week in history. The kids were fascinated, of course, being the blood-thirsty little pirates that they are.

We discussed the symptoms, the devastation in Europe, the fact that entire families and villages were wiped out, you know, all the gory details. I pulled no punches.

So what would you expect to be the reaction to this horrible part of history? Should they perhaps imagine that they were living in that time? Should they pretend to be doctors? Should they think about the consequences of unhygienic practices - or should they, perhaps, start anthropomorphizing the actual bacterium, and develop a relationship with it? If you've read any part of this blog previously, you should know the answer to that.

Here is Black Death watching Zaya write a letter to Grandma Lilibeth, in which he details the things we learned this week. He (the bacterium) occasionally made cute little squeaking noises as he listened to Zaya describe his past behavior.

And here we have Black Death watching Mim color in her map of the progress of the contagion. The bacterium, in his squeaky little voice, said things like, "Ooh! I remember Paris! It was lovely!" and "I remember Rome, I got to go to the Colosseum!"

So...I suppose I bear part of the blame for the fact that they own a plush Black Death bacterium in the first place, but I don't think I can be blamed for all of it, because they wouldn't own it if Zaya hadn't been born with an obsession for microbiology.

 Before having children, I would never have imagined that I would be thinking "That's so cute!" while talking about the world-wide horror that was the Bubonic Plague. Either I'm losing my mind, or I've already lost it.

When I Was...

 This is The Book About Mim- according to Mim, that is. She wanted to write a story for writing class today instead of doing her regular curriculum. I didn't give her any ideas, so this autobiography is her decision entirely.

That is true. No argument from Mama.

 In this drawing she has smeared cake on herself. If we're being historically accurate, it should be Desitin and/or Sharpie markers.

 Quite true, although I would say this applied even more so in previous years.

So several of these things happened over more than a one year period, but I thought it was a fascinating insight into her view of her life, anyway.

How would you sum up years of your life in one short sentence? This might be a fun exercise at any age.

Using Useless Space

Last Saturday we turned Mim's top bunk into a Lego play center. I don't think I should have to tell any parent why we thought this would be a good idea, but I will enumerate the reasons below for those of you who may not be experienced with the blessing and the curse that is Lego.

1. I am tired of stepping on Legos. They cause pain like no other toy...with the possible exception of jacks.

2. Mim's room still has carpet. There are some very, very, very small pieces in those sets. The carpet eats them.

3. My kitchen table should not be a place where I have to push around Lego sets to get anything done.

4. The schoolroom floor should not be a place where I have to push around Lego sets to get anything done.

5. My bedroom should not be a place where I have to push around Lego sets to get anything done.

...ad infinitum...

Her bottom bunk now has two mattresses. Art put a sheet of plywood, to which he affixed a sheet of vinyl flooring, onto the struts of the top bunk.

As long as she doesn't sit up suddenly in the middle of the night, we should be fine.

She currently has a Lego doll house, (garage sale find!) a lego cafe, horse trailer and laboratory (Christmas gifts) and a huge tub of all Daddy's Legos from childhood. Zaya's Star Wars Legos have also been included. It only makes sense, really, since she's the builder, and is easily just as much a Star Wars nerd as he is.

 It's quite a collection, and I'm just picky enough to want to keep them all separate from each other, hence the multitude of tubs.

Will this help her room to look a little less like a FEMA event? Only time will tell.

But Why Would Anyone Do That?

"The potential for misuse is great."

I find myself saying this a lot when Zaya is telling me about his inventions.

For example, his Time Machine: I had to point out the chaos that could be created by people who would go back and re-write history for their own nefarious schemes. He hasn't seen Doctor Who or Back to the Future, so I forgave him for not thinking of these possibilities.

These conversations happen frequently, and I can't even begin to tell you how many different items that he's discussed with me over the years.

He informed me tonight that I will not need to worry about his inventions becoming the next TNT someday, because he has it all figured out.

In his words:

"I will keep all of my inventions in my lab, and they will only be available for me and my helpers to use. That way no one will able to take them and do evil things with them. How will I make my money, I hear you ask? I will sell the inventions that no one could use to hurt other people."

An example of an invention that he might sell is his candy-bar making machine. This machine takes all the ingredients of your favorite candy bar and makes one for you as you wait. He thinks the candy factories themselves might be interested in purchasing this little gem. I didn't have the heart to tell him that the candy bar factories basically consist of gigantic machines in which one puts the ingredients for a candy bar and receives a finished product at the end.

We are having some debate about another invention that he has decided he will release to the open market. It is an "other-dimensionalizer", which is basically a portal that will teleport you to alternate dimensions. He decided that the ability to travel between dimensions will be available to all, and so cannot be used for evil. He has also put on a filter that will stop "bad people" from getting through. I didn't have to heart to explain how "bad people" can look and, even sometimes act, just the same as "good people".

I have been given very specific instructions for how to build this device, but I will not share them with the internet for obvious trademark reasons.

One of the inventions that he will keep hidden in his own lab, and which he has been developing in theory only for several weeks now, is a liquid that, when dropped on any solid substance, will instantly turn it into a liquid. He could not see at first how this could possibly be used as a weapon, so I helped him to understand by one simple question.

"What would happen if you dropped it onto a human?"

"Oh. Right."

He now claims that it would recognize the chemical make-up of flesh and not liquify it. I have my doubts.

You can see, then, why I am very afraid for the future of the world. Nobel and Einstein both could teach him a few things now about releasing your ideas to the world at large. Unfortunately, they're both gone.

Maybe I should just let him watch Doctor Who after all.

Focus on the Goal...or Not

 Zaya likes to look for ways to make his seatwork take longer. Alright, maybe that's not his primary motivation, but that is certainly the result. One of his favorite "let's-drag-this-assignment-out-for-eternity" techniques is to give feudal titles to the separate areas of his sentence diagrams. This can get very complicated when we have prepositional phrases that act as adjective phrases and etc. It is less complicated, but still confusing when there are compound parts. Here is the way he finally resolved the issue. It makes sense...as much as it can anyway, considering the basic premise is to name grammatical structures after societal positions in a specific historical period.

It also leads to funny questions like, "Mom, does the Pope lick?" What he meant to say was, "Mom can the Pope marry?" but he got distracted because he was writing the word lick at the time.

Meanwhile, Mim found a disturbing new pencil holder. I think it takes up more room than it's worth. Oh, and it's very distracting.

Kitchen Island Paradise

Mim is enjoying the relaxed rules this week as Mommy battles some serious (tooth-related?) head pain. We made a little hammock from what used to be my best sheet. (It's still my favorite, but no longer as beautiful as it was. Apparently my wet hair bleaches fabrics.)

She has a cup of Chamomile tea there, because she decided that she needed it. I was too tired to argue, and was standing in the kitchen anyway.

She's been very sweet this week as I've been periodically down for the count between pain meds. She made me a little platter with crackers, hummus, roasted kale and sweet soy sauce. She really knows the way to Mama's heart.

I plan to do a post soon of our favorite educational iPad games. She is playing one of them. It's called Stack the Countries, and I highly recommend it and the other games by the same maker. There's nothing like the sweet, sweet joy of tricking your children into learning things.

Zaya has requested some Fizzy Fruit Punch, the recipe for which was in his English lesson today. We have a trip to the grocery store to make, and then I am going nowhere else and planning to do only what is necessary to keep the kids alive and the house from burning down. Three piano lessons and a trip to the dentist are quite enough for one day.

All Done

Here is the almost finished project. It took them several hours, but I think they all had a great time.

Tragically, my taking of these pictures has instigated THE CONVERSATION. Zaya has formally requested that I stop talking about him on the internet. I'm really sad, actually, but I respect his wishes. From here on out, he gets to OK or veto future posts in which he is central.

I guess my little man is growing up. I'm not ready.

Be Afraid, Tesla, Very Afraid

This year Zaya is taking Electric Circuits at our Friday School Co-op, and loving it. They've asked each student to work on making their own circuit-project. I knew from the moment I read Mrs. B's e-mail that it would be Art, and not myself, who helped with this project. He was more than happy to do so, of course. Any chance to play with electricity. The only thing that would make them all happier would be if it was a "make your own fireworks" type lesson.

As usual, they have gone far, far beyond where they were supposed to go, I think. They're currently discussing electricity at an atomic level, rather than saying things like. "Stick this wire here and the pretty light comes on," which is how I would have started the conversation.

Mim was making towers and houses out of the parts for a while (her default activity is to build something out of whatever is in front of her), but then found a solar panel, and is now using it to tickle herself. Hence the grin.

At some point I will have to go recommend that they close up shop for the morning. Art has a lot more patience for technical talk than the kids do, unless Zaya's really interested, in which case it could go on for a long time.

We will see what this project becomes when it's all said and done. Originally, Zaya wanted it to be a light that comes on with a switch on a scavenged remote control. Again, I know as little as possible about all of this, which is why it's great that he's working with Art. Mim is the one who helped him come up with the idea and disassemble their broken RC vehicle. It's definitely a group endeavor, but most things are. Just another benefit of doing school at home.

Pass Go, Collect $200

What should you do when your little sister doesn't want to play Monopoly? Play with your sentient plush dragon.

Zaya and Crimson enjoyed their afternoon. In fact, Zaya was just as excited when he got Boardwalk as one usually is.

The funny thing is, Mim decided she wanted to play after he got it all arranged. He told her, quite calmly, that he would rather play with Crimson anyway. She was miffed, but will, I hope, remember this next time he asks her.

Hop, Hop, Chomp!

Mim made a shadow puppet play for us all tonight. She hung a sheet from her top bunk, then put Daddy's best flashlight on a stool some distance away. We all had to crawl into the bed to watch her show as soon as it was dark outside.

Here's a rough outline of the play.

Act One:
 Scene One - An alligator eats a bunny.
 Scene Two - A large meteor crashes to earth,  and inside are large bunny-shaped aliens.
 Scene Three - An alien bunny eats the alligator.

Act Two:
 Scene One - Another large meteor crashes to earth, and inside are even larger alligator-shaped aliens.
 Scene Two - An alien alligator eats an alien bunny.

After that, things descended rapidly into chaos.

Can you guess what two hand-shadow puppets Mim can make?

Pre-Christmas Christmas

We did our own little family Christmas on the 21st, because we headed back to Oklahoma on Friday and stayed for a full week.
The kids were ecstatic to see that we had snow. Well, "snow" I should say, because it was just a dusting. It doesn't take much, though, when you're from the plains. Had they only known that they'd be playing in six inches of the stuff at Grandma's house on Christmas day...the smiles say it all, though.

Mim put together her own little manger scene while we slower eaters finished with our breakfast. I'm fairly sure that Jesus wasn't born in something this shiny, but who am I to criticize? I wasn't there either.

Art always reads the Christmas story from Luke, in an effort to remind the children that it isn't all about presents. This is partially counteracted by the shear number of presents that come in the next week, but we're trying. At least Crimson appeared to listen intently.

Mim used the opportunity of the reading to do a little scenery adjustment. This required moving to the passage in Matthew so we could add the Magi to the story. She likes to be thorough.

The kids' main gift this year (from Mommy and Daddy and G-Gma T) was a guitar. It's a real guitar, but 3/4 size, so it's perfect for little arms and fingers. Art has been teaching himself to play, and is now helping the kids learn as well. We really want them to be familiar with music and instruments. Perhaps it's ridiculous optimism, but we shall see.

All in all, a good day. The guitar was their main gift, but there a few little toys and books as well, because I'm not that mean. Not for a moment do I assume that children understand the worth of a musical instrument. The two biggest hits were books, which makes me happy. Zaya got The Elements by Theodore Gray and Mim loved her Spyology book. I was glad to see that she wanted to use it with her brother rather than on her brother. It's the little victories.

Traveling and being with family the rest of the week was wonderful as well, and if I can break the habit of years, I may remember to blog about all or parts of it in the days to come.

A Boy's Best Friends

Zaya's favorite toys are his plush microbes. They came to my attention at a time when I was at my wit's end as to what kind of toys to get him. He just didn't enjoy playing with normal toys when he was little. I tried every kind of block known to man. We tried trucks, cars, tractors and all the other toys that little boys are supposed to love. He looked at them. He pushed them around a bit, then he wondered off and started looking at anatomy books. Sigh.

And then I found ThinkGeek. It's a website that sells geeky items for adults and children. They also sell Plush Microbes. A child who loves to pretend to be a white blood cell or a cold virus, and who also loves to snuggle with stuffed animals, is a child for which the Plush Microbe was created. He started his collection at the age of three with the basics: influenza, the common cold, and Strep. Over the years the collection has expanded, gaining members every birthday and Christmas.  Here they are below.

This first group is the cells. They aren't actually microbes at all. They are the good guys, in fact. We started buying them after we found him saying things like "Mommy, I would like to sleep with Ebola tonight." I just couldn't handle that thought. Sleeping with a red blood cell is much less ominous. Below are: Fat cell, Platelet, Skin Cell, Brain cell, Neuron, White blood cell, Red blood cell, Bone cell, and Stem cell.

Then come the bacteria. From left to right, starting in the back: Salmonella, Gangrene, E. Coli, Black Death, MRSA, Shigella, Ear Infection, Strep, Flesh-eating disease, Gingivitis, and Anthrax. (The discerning eye may notice that Ear infection, Strep and Flesh-Eating Disease are all varieties of Streptococcus. In fact, MRSA is as well, but his little cloak disguises him.

Next we have the viruses. There aren't as many of these, because quite a few of the viruses available for sale are of...diseases of a certain type. I haven't allowed the kids to have these. This decision has already led to my son announcing to his Kindergarten class that his Mommy wouldn't "let him have Herpes." Yes, it's funnier now than it was then. So, on to the viruses. Left to right, Chicken Pox, Ebola, Common cold, Mono, Influenza and Rabies.

Last but not least, we have a collection of miscellaneous. Several of these are completely harmless. Mad Cow Disease is our only prion. The Fungi/Plant Life: Toxic Mold, Penicillin,Yogurt, Algae and Pollen (representing Hay Fever.) The little creatures are a Waterbear, Malaria, Louse and Bookworm.

This Christmas we added Krill, T4, Dengue Fever and Martian Life between both kids. They came a little too late to get in on the family pictures, but they've settled in nicely.

Now you've met the whole family. Don't be afraid to visit, though, they're put away in a container. It's not hermetically sealed, granted, but I still think it will be alright if you don't make them angry.

Miscellaneous Mimsy

Mim had a busy day today. First she did a little excavating. The precious gems she discovered are currently residing in a ziploc bag, all clean and shiny. It was very exciting, and she has been begging for days, so I was more than happy to oblige.

The rest of the day was full of alternately helping clean up, asking if she could drag more things out, dragging more things out, and watching The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe. Oh, and thrashing us at our first game of Mexican Train Dominoes. 

This evening, Mim also made up her first funny joke. She's been working on making up her own jokes for a very, very long time. She doesn't exactly have a strong grasp on what makes a one-liner funny, but I think we're finally getting closer.

Q: Why did the Mommy call her daughter "Honey"?
A: Because she was sweet.

Padum ching.

Zaya says it's a groaner, and he should know, since all, and I mean all, of his jokes are groaners. I explained that we couldn't groan at it, though, while she's still so new to the stand-up game.
Now she is getting ready to sleep in her bed/starship. It's called the Pinkelina. Yes, she really can be a girly-girl sometimes.

She told me that I was a salesperson and she wanted to buy a rocket, and engine, and some new panes of glass for her rocket ship. I told her that would cost about 3 million dollars. She assured me that wouldn't be a problem, as she had 99 million at her disposal. Were that all our family finances could be so easily augmented.

She has her new baby doll beside her in the doll bed. Last night she co-slept, but I think she has decided, like her Mama did eight-and-a-half years ago, that it's not as comfortable that way.

I'm not sure where the doll fits into the Rocket Ship plan, but I'm sure she's got it all figured out.

Don't Look!

This afternoon, Zaya was being a knight, and his father was asking for details about his adventure. In the recounting of his victories, which were achieved with an axe, apparently, he said,

"I defeated all of them. I have deadly cleavage."

You know, because he was using an axe, which cleaves things in twain.

Art kept a straight face, but when he told me about it later, we decided that we should probably explain why that is not a word that ought to be used often.

 At the lunch table we discussed the various meanings of the words "cleave" and "cleavage". We've learned the hard way that it is better to have these discussions as soon as possible, than to wait until the child uses the word with other people who might not understand.

Anyway, Zaya decided that, no, he did not, in fact, have deadly cleavage, as it is commonly understood, and we all agreed that probably no one actually did.

Then he thought for a bit and said,

"I bet Medusa does!"

So there's a little thought to take with you today. You're welcome.

If Life Gives You Random Junk, Make a Trainline

Mim likes to play down in the basement. She doesn't like to be by herself (ever, really, but especially downstairs) so she's really enjoyed the fact that Art is beginning to remodel the basement, and spends time down there patching cement and generally doing manly repair-type things.

Last week, she decided to turn his dolly into a train. Once she had this accomplished, she was able to drag her brother down to play. This is their train-line, complete with stations. (Zaya calls them planets. Just because they're playing together doesn't mean they're in the same dimension.)

Here's the train at the station.

The first stop is Quickret. Yes, we know the bag says Quikrete, but that's not what it's called. I was informed emphatically, so it must be true.

Then we have Zigomorphic. I have no idea what that means, or how it's related to a pile of 2X4s, but there we are.

This is the library. The selection appears to be limited.

Around the corner into what will one day be our guest bathroom, and we have Dollyhouse. This is a rather dirty Barbie house that is a three times over hand me down that spent most of its life as a squirrel feeder on the back deck.

And now we're back to the station. Up there is "Home".

You know, whatever keeps them busy, really, is fine with me.

The Battle of the Ozarks

 We've been studying the Norman Conquest over the last few weeks, so we decided to make our own Bayeux Tapestry. I guess it will have to be called something else, but we haven't decided on a name yet.

This tapestry chronicles our journey to Branson last September. Perhaps it doesn't have quite the overwhelming significance of the Battle of Hastings, but it was memorable and involved more than just horses and thrones, so I think we can hold our own.

Our medium was fabric and paint rather than delicate, detailed embroidery. Oh, and we wrote in English instead of Latin. Otherwise it's about the same. You know, aside from the skill and time involved. Oh, and that historical significance thing.

Here is your brief tour.

Day one, we left in the afternoon and trekked across the hills and forests to our hotel. The swimming pool was extremely critical to the success of the venture, so it figures prominently.

The next day was our trip to Silver Dollar City, which has been previously documented. I'm sure I don't need to tell you that Zaya was the one who chose to draw a roller coaster, and Mim chose Marvel cave.

 On the third day we wanted to spend as little money as possible while still being on vacation. Well, I say "we", I think we know that's not entirely true. It was a wise decision, though. We went to see the Shepherd of the Hills Fish Hatchery, which had much more than four fish in it. Those are simply example fish. We also hiked a long, winding, nay, eternal trail at Table Rock Lake. I don't know who measured that trail for the map, but they can't possibly have been right in their estimate. Either that or they weren't traveling with young children.

We rounded that day out with a little mini-golf, where we learned fun lessons like "An athletic, 31-year-old man is going to be a better player than a small, 7-year-old girl." and "Hitting the ball as hard as you can is not often your best strategy for putts."

 On Sunday we found a local church to visit, which we loved. It was an Evangelical Free church, and everyone was so friendly.  We drove on to Springfield for lunch and let the kids play for a while in the Greene/Close Memorial Park. They also had a Butterfly Garden which was lots of fun. The Japanese garden is beautiful, or so we've heard. They wouldn't let us in because we didn't have any cash on us, and didn't really want to walk all the way back across the park complex to dig it out of the van. No, I'm not bitter.

So our tapestry may never be found in a museum, but it made it to the wall in the hall, which is a pretty high honor. I know the details are a bit fuzzy, for instance, the Harvest E.F. church was a large brown brick building of fairly modern design; not exactly the gray, tall-steepled country church you see pictured here, but then I'm pretty sure that Harold the Unfortunate didn't actually look like this:

B-cells Say "Burble"

Tonight Zaya is a white blood cell.  He came to visit me in the heart (I was a cardiac muscle) and handed me an imaginary business card that said, "Zaya - B cell."

 He was being called up to "Lymph Node #26" but before he left, he gave me some antibodies to use if I should need them later. He then raced on his way with his trusty ribosome (otherwise known as Crimson, the plush dragon) and his plush white blood cell.

He is currently up in the U.S.S. Bedlam waging war on an invading micro-organism. He informed me that he is the artillery, and the T-cells and macrophages are the infantry. I'll be honest, I'm nervous for the little guy. White blood cells so often have to give their life in the struggle.

On a related note - did you know that white blood cells say "burble?" Well, plush ones do anyway; at least, they have for the last couple weeks. Dragons (and ribosomes) say "meep". I may be the only mother in the U.S. tonight who was kissed good night by two white blood cells and a ribosome, and then heard the phrase "I sure wish someone would make a plush mitochondria!"

Don't we all, sweetheart, don't we all.

You Never Know

Bedtime on the U.S.S. Bedlam (Zaya has named his bed.)

"Mom, do you want to come snuggle with me? I'm a stem cell."

"Umm...Sure."

I climbed up onto his loft bed and he handed me an extra blanket.

"Here's your cell membrane. Crimson made it. He's a ribosome."

(Crimson is his stuffed dragon and best friend.)

"Do ribosomes make cell membranes?" I asked, because I frankly have no clue.

"Well, he made the amino acids."

Then followed a discussion about mitochondria that I didn't quite follow. 

Finally I said, "Fair enough. Ok, so if you're a stem cell, what do you want to be when you grow up?"

"Well, I want to be a white blood cell."

"Oh, a hero, eh?"

"Yes."

"You realize that you might have to give your life for the cause if you become a white blood cell."

"Yes. That's OK. Oh, or I could be an osteoblast. Then I'd also be a hero."

"True."

A litte silence, then..."POP!"

"I've traveled into the blood stream. They need me and I've been called up."

"What are you?" As I'm climbing back down from the loft bed and heading out of the room.

"I'm an osteoblast."

"Oh, so the body has broken a bone."

"Yep."

He came into my room a few moments later claiming he needed something that involved an acronym for something that I suppose an osteoblast uses. I'm ashamed to say that I don't even know what it was. He got a drink of water and meandered back through the room.

"Back when I was a stem cell, I divided and my other half became a white blood cell. So I got both my wishes."

Now he's lying on his bed talking animatedly to his stuffed dragon, who I can only assume is still a ribosome.

When people ask me what I'm teaching my son for science, I just have to laugh. If only I knew!

Get the Man Some Air!

Saturday morning we went to the company children's Christmas party at my husband's place of employment. They opened the large building, optimistically called the Club House, and quite a few families came together to let the littles have some fun.

The kids enjoyed Christmas cookies and Hawaiian Punch, then stood in line for a balloon animal from the clowns who made balloon animals. Because, you know, nothing says Christmas like high-fructose corn syrup, red dye #40 and...clowns.

They handed Mim a "hummingbird" that one of them was already holding. Not wanting to cause trouble, she just took it, although she really wanted something else, like the bow and arrow that Zaya requested. His did take a very long time to make. Someone was probably cursing under their breath as they tied that particular creation, but we didn't hear anything, so it's all good.

The company had purchased gifts for all the children, which was a very generous and kind thing to do. To receive these gifts, though, we had to go through the line and sit on Santa's lap. My children have never done this before. Not because I've ever consciously decided to avoid the situation, but because it's just never really come up.

We've never done the whole Santa/Reindeer/Ho Ho Ho thing at our house, so the kids were underwhelmed and a tiny bit annoyed that they had to go along with the whole stitch-up to get presents. Of course, they could've taken a principled stand against it and not opened gifts, but it appears that their feelings were not so wounded that they weren't willing to accept free toys.

Both items were big hits, by the way. I applaud whoever made the choices for the various age designations. My friend, whose five year old daughter received her very first bikini-clad Barbie, may not quite agree.













Anyway, we were all sitting to enjoy our conversations and gifts when a little buzz started being passed almost telepathically from mother to mother throughout the large open building.

"Get the kids outside! Quick! Out to the playground! Santa's down!"

We all calmly got up, pretending that we suddenly couldn't resist the warm sunshine any longer.

"Hey kids! Let's go play on the playground! Look how nice it is outside!"

We all trooped out with the little ones, the building clearing of any human under five feet tall in the blink of an eye. A line of grown-ups stood up near the tree and chairs at the back of the building, hiding the red-suited mound of Santa, who had passed out. Apparently Santa had dressed for the Arctic North, rather than Southern Missouri.

Everything was fine. Within a few minutes he was up and feeling better, and I heard quite a few men vowing that their co-worker, who had so kindly agreed to be St. Nick for the day, would never, ever hear the end of it. A bare minimum of children were scarred by seeing one of their favorite people out cold on a concrete floor, so the day was decreed a success and we scattered out to our homes.