This one's for those sweet teenagers at church that watch my kid on Friday nights. You know who you are.
Our church has a bible-study-thing-that-defies-definition on Friday nights. Ish. We call ourselves The Difference. For now. Aaaanyways... child care is provided. With the exception of one wonderful woman (who also happens to provide daily child care for my kid), the nursery on Friday nights is staffed by teenagers. A few weeks ago, Kate happened to be the only kid there, and there were two teenage guys there to watch her. Poor guys. Cam and I sent her off, snickering to ourselves, wondering just how badly she would scar them.
About an hour later, one of the guys comes in, plops down a picture that was obviously drawn by my kid, and says, "Amy, your daughter has a wild misconception of the general shape of potatoes." (And a thank-you to Adam for writing that quote down for me.)
So this morning, Kate comes into the living room and announces:
"I'm making a holiday book of the potatoes of doom."
I turned to Cam and said, "She's your kid."
It's about holidays for potatoes.
There are many things that amuse me about this story.
- That a teenage guy not yet out of high school can put together the phrase "wild misconception of the general shape of potatoes". Hope for the future, man.
- That my kid can remember something that happened over a month ago and decide to turn it into a project.
- That, no matter how pesky Kate can get, he still agrees to watch her. Yes, I know the church pays him, but there's no hazard pay involved.
- I don't know if we say it enough, but... you're a cool kid, Gavin.