This morning at church I went to get Cady Gray from the nursery when it was time for Eucharist. We came back into the sanctuary as the congregation was saying the Lord's Prayer, and I set her down beside me with a doodle card and a black pen. She immediately set to writing. "I ... LOVE ..."
I watched her with benevolent pride, looking forward to a nice souvenir commemorating the special bond between a mother and a daughter. Then she leaned over to me, just as the church went quiet while the acolytes and deacons received the elements, and in a stage whisper audible for several rows in either direction, asked urgently:
"Hey Mom! How do you spell everybody?"
(I helped her with "every," but then she took over: "Now buddy!" she announced.)
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