Monday, December 26, 2016
O Death, Where is Thy Sting?
Q & O have this little ritual going on every time we pass by a graveyard. One (or both) of them will make a comment about how "the peoples" died under the ground. My/Clare's part is then to say, "No, they died and then they were put under the ground." Q &/or O will then inform us (gravely, of course) that "the peoples" died years ago. Every graveyard, every time. It's odd, but, you know, so is Catholic mass. Today we had a little variation on this liturgy. As we cleared the edge of the graveyard, O looked out the window and said, "Good-bye, peoples. I'll miss you."
Of course, O's normal reaction to seeing injury or death (on television--the only drive by shootings in our neighborhood involve grey haired ladies and pooches with irritable bowel syndrome) is to suggest, "He just needs a little rest," so you could definitely argue that the concept of death eludes him . . . but it sure is sweet, ennit?
For some reason all of this reminds me that one of M's earliest prayers involved God blessing McDonald's french fries. (Which reminds me of his great theological question, "Does God have a butt?") Yes, this is why we need children in our lives.
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3 comments:
When I showed this picture to O, he obviously read the title and "got it." He began to smile and point at the picture and then said, "He looks like me! He'a a real O Grim Reaper! I'm the real Grim Reaper!
O is the best. Except for Q, who is also the best. Maybe I should bring him a scythe instead of a sword...
I didn´t know that one of Q´s earliest prayers was for the blessing of McDonald´s french fries. That is classic! It´s not as good as ¨Ballerina!¨or ¨But, WHY?...¨, but it´s close.
No, the french fry blessing was M, not Q.
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