Macey's Mission

A few nights ago, Brett and I were in the car discussing "Radical Mission," the non-profit organization Brett runs through our church. Macey was in the back seat and had been pretty quiet until she chimed in, "I have a mission."

I turned to look at her, surprised she even knew the word and thinking maybe she had picked up something insightful at Sunday School. "Really? What's your mission?"

She looked out the window dramatically. "Oh, it's about ducks and stuff."

Macey's Promises

Macey is always assuring me of random rules that it hadn't occurred to me to establish. Like, "We don't cut off our fingers," or "We don't eat paper." A few weeks ago, I pointed out a spider in our laundry room. The conversation started out about the same as usual:

Macey (solemnly): "We don't eat a spider."

Mom (distracted): "No, we would never eat a spider." (Pause.) "Wait... would we ever eat a spider?"

Macey: "Yes."

Mom: "When?"

Macey: "Um, thirty minutes."

Mom: "Who was with you when you ate the spider?"

Macey: "Miss Rene."

Mom: "What did she say when you ate it?"

Macey (matter-of-factly): "She said 'ew'."