Of Mice and Men

Well, another Sunday and we are peeved with our priest again. This is getting to be a habit. This week, though, it isn't theological. This week he snubbed my baby.
During the month of February, the music director decided that the collection would be gathered accompanied by spirituals such as "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot" and "Kumbaya." This is in honor of Black History month, I think. Anyway, he asked various children to read introductions giving the historical background of each song, right after the exchange of the peace and before the collection, and this was Travis's week. He practiced his piece about the background of Kumbaya until he had it Perfect (and this was not easy, either! To Travis, Kumbaya is a word that Begs to be said loudly, with an emphasis on that final syllable -- "kum-ba-YAH!"--accompanied by dramatic karate leaps and arm chops. After much discussion and a couple viewings of serene nuns singing Kumbaya (which was Not a great idea, as it led to Ninja Nun imitations), we worked out all the kinks.). When we got to church, Ed even mentioned to Father Blanck how much Travis had practiced (although it is entirely possible that Father B. had no idea what Ed was talking about). The kids come back from Sunday School during the exchange of the peace. Today they were busy with a craft and came back a minute or two late, and Father Blanck had the music director read Travis's piece so that he could hurry up and get on with the collection. It wouldn't have bugged us so much except that the kids were walking up the aisle when he started, so he Could have waited 30 seconds and let Travis do his thing. Jerk. Ed and I were so busy being furious and outraged that we didn't even notice the colletion plate being passed (not that missing our offering is a major hit to the church budget, and Ed did drop our envelope in afterwards). Travis was perplexed and a little disappointed, but he quickly got over it and happily whispered back to me, "Mom! This is the best day ever!"
"Why?"
"They have ham sandwiches And cookies and Cheddar Pringles for coffee hour!"

Sometimes it is good to have a kid who lives to eat.

This past week, the kids and I read Owl Puke for science. It sounds gross, but both the kids found it quite interesting (put that way, I guess it isn't surprising). I told them that as soon as we finished the book, we'd dissect our pellet, but we didn't finish reading until late Friday. Yesterday Travis had a friend over, so Today was dissection day. Once again I have been reminded Why I don't like science experiments. Both kids were keen to start, and each quickly found a skull (we actually found 3, which was impressive, given the smallness of the pellet), and there were glad cries of "Oooh! I found a jawbone!" and "Look! Here's a hip!"
Travis hit his limit at 15 minutes, and started reading the comics from the paper I'd put down on the table. Katie did much better, industriously separating teensy bones from nasty bits of fur for nearly an hour. And then there was one. Me. After 3 1/2 hours, all the itsy bitsy bones are divided into their proper compartments in the Bone Tray (how ghoulish is that?). I think there was a bird along with three red-toothed rodents, and I know I mis-identified some of the bones, but they are all put away and the kitchen is sterilized, so I'll call it good. And that is why I don't like science experiments. (And next week we start with How the Body Works, which does have experiments, but none of them involve dead animal remains.)

**I just wanted to share this Non-gross dissection site I found. This is my kind of dissection --no sticky stuff, no nasty smell, and the clean-up is a breeze!