Bless me, Father

Last night while we were weeding the memorial garden at the soccer field George told me he wanted to go to the "confession stand".

I paused for a minute as that brought back some scary memories from my Catholic childhood. Then gave thanks that he wouldn't have to go through any of that. The "confession stand" is at the foot of the cross.

All he needed to know for now was that I didn't bring any money and it was closed anyhow.

What have I done to deserve this?

As mother-in-laws go, I have a pretty sweet deal. She cans. She quilts. She always remembers birthdays. She doesn't get involved in our blended family circus. She sends me sixteen year old vegetables(more on this story next week.)

But I must have done something lately that offended her horribly.

Last weekend, Kevin went to pick up an old Edison phonograph to sell and he came back with this cookie jar. When you open the lid it plays Joy to the World by Three Dog Night. LOUD! He informed me that she was thoughtful enough to install a fresh set of batteries.

George quickly decided it is a great place to store his Magnetix so this frog is singing repeatedly throughout my day. Did I mention how LOUD it is?

The fact that neither of them see anything wrong with a three year old singing about drinking wine bothers me too. Don't be too surprised if this frog encounters an accident real soon.