We were at mass last night and the kids were endeavoring to restrain their excited little hearts and find a way to survive mass without exploding. As usual, I had Emily next to me. Throughout the mass she’d whisper little things to me. Things like “I love you with all my heart Daddy,” or “I love God too,” or “Church isn’t just for rich people, is it Daddy? It’s for everyone.”
As curious as I always am about where some of these little whisperings come from, nothing quite tops the point where she had a curious little look on her face, drawing me to lower my ear to her level so that she could offer up whatever little piece of wisdom it was that she’d been mulling over.
She looked at me, lifted her mouth to my ear and whispered, “I farted.”
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