My heart nearly exploded tonight over a gourmet dinner of cheese-filled hot dogs and boxed mac and cheese.
The kiddos and I stopped at the library after work and then came home for some "bonding" while Pops had a meeting. Max has been joining in our evening meal prayer and tonight was no different. Five minutes later, he chattered like a monkey to get my attention, "Aye yi yi yi yi." (Pretty common noise for him). When I looked at him, he folded his hands, closed his eyes and in his sweet little baby voice gave his rendition of our prayer. If that doesn't sweeten you up, you need to eat chocolate and chug a Dew. Stat.
Our mealtime prayer is fairly common, but I'll include it for my family, who uses a Catholic version: :)
Come Lord Jesus, be our guest.
Let these gifts to us be blessed.
While Max continued to make monkey noises and smash macaroni in his hair, Gage was trying like nothing else to get the words right. He does the first line great and put random syllables together for the 2nd line with no idea what he's saying. So I tried to help. And after a few tries he got it.
Five minutes later he holds up a hunk of hot dog and asks, "But why do we bless our food?"
Seriously, could he wait a few years for me to research answers to these questions? Strangers? Blessing food? I'm in WAAAAY over my head so I did what I do best. Make something up.
We talked about how its like thanking Jesus for letting us have warm food to eat and how some people might not get supper and have to go to bed hungry.
Without skipping a beat he came back with, "Like the Grumpy Old Troll. He's always hungry too." [from The Three Billy Goats Gruff]
I think tomorrow night we'll change up the prayer:
Come Lord Jesus, be our guest.
Don't forget the Grumpy Old Troll
He like to eat goat the best.
Its probably easier to understand anyhow.
(Full Disclosure: Moments after this story took place Max fell out of the bathtub while I wasn't paying attention and Gage fed his leftover hot dog bun to the dog.)
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