Burn the Books
Following a light sprinkle of rain – can never say that without conjuring images from the classic “Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs”; great book – we shipped out to the Bear’s Greek verbs-tenses-paradigms-of sing-song-sung Phonics-style, mixed with a hint of ancient Hebraic chanting.
Oh.
This is going to be a fun semester.
Puck opened Mom’s pantry and began chanting, “Brownie brownie brownie brownie. Pretzel pretzel pretzel. Brownie pretzel brownie pretzel brownie pretzel…”
Nope.
But there were egg sandwiches. If I got a dollar for every egg sandwich I composed over the years…
Grandma Combs joined the party before nine, I think, bearing baked goods, soft racquetball set, and roast chickens. What? Doesn’t everyone’s grandma carry roast chickens and racquetball sets in their grandma-totes? The primary cause of the visit, however, stemmed from an unfortunate encounter between the bumpers of Grandma’s gray Toyota and the Green Slug’s. Carrie and Francis got down to business examining the qualities and durability of various glues, bumpers, and paints, etc.
It was time for a book burning.
If… only figuratively.
When your church library inherits no less than 200 Christian romance novels…
Action must be taken.
Fortunately I don’t have to read 60,000 pages of… whatever you want to call it. I’m leaving the determining qualifications of acceptance to Mom and some of her church-lady friends. However, I am kind of tempted with the idea of a good old-fashioned book-burning.
Just a little.
Instead, Mom and I carted over a full bookshelf of theological analogies to house in the little room off the sanctuary, which… made me feel a little better.
When we returned, Carrie had done Grandma’s nails. Mom shredded the two chickens, I sliced the cheese, and Linnea-Irish and I discussed heavier life issues, including – well, not including…
“The girls at AHG want me to come back,” she tried not to smile. “Apparently none of them can light fires of do anything at the campground like I used to do for them.”
– The advantage of growing up around three Boy/Eagle Scouts. –
“They used to try to start fires with green leaves. Green. And… Germ-X only works as a fire starter in small amounts.”
Meanwhile, Francis jaw-dropped into a nap on the couch shortly after escorting Grandma to her car.
When Dad got back, he razzed us girls about food stuff over his “smile lines” – “What’s going on here?” he asked, examining the remaining-egg-sandwich plate.
He ate one anyway.
Also – Francis made the YMCA swim team.
My night ended with confusing culinary Korean comedy and… more lousy news from church.