Play Time

We were in Genesis 4 Wednesday evening.

“What was the protective mark God put on Cain?” Puck wanted to know.

“Some people think it was a tattoo.”

“How did they make tattoos back then?”

“With charcoal. Or blue dye under the skin, I think.”

Puck’s eyes grew wide. “I think I’m going to faint.”

I think it’s safe to assume this kid won’t be taking after his dad down the “Sola Fide” “Sola Gratia” permanently written on his arms avenue.

Thursday morning, I was awake by 3:30 to Yali’s growing pains, heavy wind, rain, and a few growls of thunder somewhere out there in the west, but not enough to make it a bona fide thunderstorm.

Yali probably wakes up every morning wondering what new adventure is going to land in his lap that particular day. It’s never the same. Today, he found himself plunked in a high chair at Gloria’s with crackers, cheese, and fruit juice, followed by a long nap while I joined Puck at school for about 43 minutes of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” performed live in the sanctuary.

Puck claimed he didn’t understand a wink of it, but he sure laughed enough to get some idea about something. I’m still holding out for “The Merchant of Venice” though. One of these days.

It was cold again. Cold enough to skip the playground after school. Instead, we opted to terrorize the indoors, starting with Hans’ classroom.

“It’s the fun room!” he declared, walking in to yet another batch of kids jumping on the mini trampoline in the corner.

After awhile, Heidi seemed worried that her dad would scoot her off too soon. “Please!” she begged. “This is the only time I can have Yali to myself to play with!”

So they ran off for a lengthy game of hide-and-go-seek – four kids and a shoeless Colombian niño.