We have a little routine on Sunday mornings.
As we drive to Mass, we say a decade of the Rosary. Atticus concentrates on driving and I concentrate on leading the prayer. I ask the kids which mystery they'd like to contemplate and then they name people and intentions for whom they'd like to pray. Then we begin.
This morning, though, I must have been a little tired. As we pulled out of the driveway, instead of asking about meditating on a mystery, I said, "Okay, guys ... which decade would you like to meditate on?"
"Oh, I don't know," said Anne-with-an-e, "how about the 50's?"