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When I'm Not Writing...

...I'm a foster parent, among other things.  Here's a small glimpse of a day in the life of our family, with strangers in my house...

Michael is sleeping in only his underwear now that the weather is warmer. It's somewhat comical--his skinny little body with just a tiny pair of briefs on... He showed up to the breakfast table like that this morning. (Not a wise thing to do in a preacher's home where modesty rules, but it was funny nonetheless.) Ron told him to go get some clothes on, and I went with him to help.

While eating he asked, "Mom, next time it's Sunday and we don't have to go to church, and we have a stay-at-home day, can we go to Alaska?"

(Also in a preacher's home, Sundays and church just automatically go together, but he's only six, and he's only lived here two and-a-half months, so some of this stuff is still new to him...)

That was quite a mouthful that required a complex answer and explanation.  (Sort of like those awful higher math problems that multiplied rate times time times distance, etc., etc.) After I explained, he said, "Oh. I mean Saturday. Next time it's Saturday and we have a stay-at-home day, can we go to Alaska?"