Things overheard

Anne-with-an-e, upon looking into the manger that is supposed to be filled, soft and comfortable for Baby Jesus by Christmas morn:

"Oh, no! There isn't much straw in here for Jesus! We'd better be nice to each other!"

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I was reading The Best Christmas Pageant Ever to the girls. I read a description of the Herdman children, and, not wanting Ramona to hear anything untoward, I decided to spell s-m-o-k-e, but then said "cigars."

She looked up from her coloring book and said, "Smoke? They smoke?"

Betsy, Anne and I all looked at her, wide-eyed. She smiled crookedly and shrugged. "How do I come up with this stuff?" she said.

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Ramona was awake before five a.m. today. I snuggled in with her, to convince her that she was still tired and that it was far too early for her to be awake.

"But I'm not tired, Mommy," she whined.

"I know, " I conceded, "but I am."

"Okay," she said. "I'll close my eyes. But just to rest them. But you may sleep as long as you like."

Oh, if only ....

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