The conversations in the back of my van went something like this:
“Why do boy Indians have long hair?”
“Because they don’t have time to cut it.”
“Charlotte, you’re a big baby. You don’t need toys in the van. You can play with them in Sunday school. Pierce is a little baby. He needs them now. Give that book back to Pierce.”
“Yes! Charlie, you are a big baby! You don’t need that! Pierce does!”
This went on for many more minutes. My sanity when we got to church was questionably shaky.
Today is being held together by orajel and birthday cake. We’ll make it.