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Overheard at lunch today:
Nicholas: A boy in my class doesn't celebrate Easter. Or Christmas. Or birthdays. He doesn't celebrate anything.
Me: His family must be Jehovah's Witnesses.
N: What?
Me: Some people who have different beliefs about the Lord Jesus than we do. And they don't believe in celebrating holidays. They call themselves Jehovah's Witnesses.
N: [after a moment's reflection] Well, I call them party poopers.
* * *
In other news, we did survive the trip to Pennsylvania and back, although Yahoo!Maps helpfully gave us a route that was three hours longer than it needed to be on the way down, including a bumpy and convoluted final stretch of road that caused Simon to announce, "I don't feel very good." I'll leave the rest to your imagination: suffice it to say that we were not prepared and it was not pretty.
Paul, who was and is indeed cutting his first tooth (I felt the edge of it yesterday), handled the journey somewhat better than I'd feared; but once we'd arrived at our friends' house he complicated matters by being unhappy most of the day and then waking up every two hours all night, every night. As a result I spent the weekend and most of this week in a sort of hazy stupor.
I think I need a holiday to recover from my holiday.
Nicholas: A boy in my class doesn't celebrate Easter. Or Christmas. Or birthdays. He doesn't celebrate anything.
Me: His family must be Jehovah's Witnesses.
N: What?
Me: Some people who have different beliefs about the Lord Jesus than we do. And they don't believe in celebrating holidays. They call themselves Jehovah's Witnesses.
N: [after a moment's reflection] Well, I call them party poopers.
* * *
In other news, we did survive the trip to Pennsylvania and back, although Yahoo!Maps helpfully gave us a route that was three hours longer than it needed to be on the way down, including a bumpy and convoluted final stretch of road that caused Simon to announce, "I don't feel very good." I'll leave the rest to your imagination: suffice it to say that we were not prepared and it was not pretty.
Paul, who was and is indeed cutting his first tooth (I felt the edge of it yesterday), handled the journey somewhat better than I'd feared; but once we'd arrived at our friends' house he complicated matters by being unhappy most of the day and then waking up every two hours all night, every night. As a result I spent the weekend and most of this week in a sort of hazy stupor.
I think I need a holiday to recover from my holiday.