I’m playing with my daughter, N. We are using small plastic people from such adventures as “Mama and Dada Bring a Baby Home and Eat Ice Cream” and “I Go to a School Where a Dog is My Only Classmate”.
Not to be outdone, my daughter creates a diverse family of her own.
I ask her who is who because when an angel and baby Jesus are involved, I want to know where I fall.
This is me.
This is Scott.
This is her brother, E.
And this is her.
I press her for more information.
Me: Baby Jesus?
Me: The angel?
Me: The shepherd, the wise man, and the farmer?
N: Me, me and me.
Now, I’m all for creativity. But if she’s trying to tell me that I birthed the Messiah, I’m disappointed in the lack of burning bushes and booming voices.
Although I’m pretty sure the angel and Jesus set is the best $50 that I’ve ever spent now that God is speaking through it. I also discovered that a replacement Baby Jesus is only $7! A sigh of relief from the virgin-ish Alex for her prophetic Little People set and tendency to lose things.
After we are done playing, contemplating the fall of humanity and enjoying my buxom blond status, my daughter offhandedly mentions that the dog is named N, too.
The offering line starts to your left.
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