Hey Mommy...

Everyone knows three-year-olds ask a lot of questions. I spend at least half my day answering questions...some routine (Mommy, can I have a snack?), some theological (Mommy, what did Jesus save us from?), and some just plain silly (Mommy, what does it look like in an alligator's belly?). I have had all three of these, just today! Almost every question Lydia asks starts with "Hey Mommy.." so thought I'd chronicle a few here. Maybe you have better answers than I come up with. (The "Hey Mommy" is understood.)

"Can you see my foot shadow?"
"Do people eat jellyfish?"
"Do some people eat people?"
"Why would you eat people?"
"Did the forbidden fruit taste sugary?"
"Can Molly have honey (lettuce/cheese/cheerios/grass/dirt) yet?"
"Is my booty super clean?"
"Where does my food go after my belly?"
"Do the fish drown in the ocean?"
"Where were me and Molly when you were getting married?"
"Did you have a sparkly dress at your wedding?"
"When can I have a brother? Tomorrow?"
"Can I have a caterpillar pet?"
"Can we go to heaven? Can we go now?"
"Do you want to play Abby and Emma?"
"Can we be a fish family?"
"Do you want to play duckapotmoses [pretend we are duckbill platypuses]?"
"How will we dry cow-ie after we wash him? Will he just need a time out?"
"When you were a little girl did you disobey/spill stuff/push your sister/lie?"
"Did you see me wipe?"
"Can Molly and I go barefoot?"
"Do some people not have shoes?"
"Did we have shoes in America?"
"Is it ok to get naked when it's just you and Molly here?"
"Do I talk a lot?"

A small sampling. And yes, when I was a little girl...I'm sure I talked a lot Lydia. Like Mother like Daughter. 

Picture of the Week: Muffin Change

There is an epidemic in this country.

We have a change problem. It can be your auto-rickshaw driver. It may be the shop vendor. It is definitely the vegetable-cart guy. No one has change!

I buy something for 87. I give 100. "Do you have 3 change, madam?"

No, no I don't. I gave it to the vegetable-cart guy this morning.

Don't worry, though. Here is the solution. That 3 (which is equivalent to a nickel) now becomes 3 pieces of candy, a pack of gum or if you are at a bakery (which my friend and I thought was a coffee shop...due to the name being a coffee shop...but we can talk about misnomers later)...a muffin. I bought bread, two cokes (replacement for coffee) and didn't have the 5 change. "No problem," he says. "Here is strawberry muffin."

It's just a funny thing that now I have come to expect. I gotta tell you, Lydia doesn't mind. She ate that strawberry muffin (it was pink) and asks me to carry big bills all the time. 

Edit: Found!

Minutes after typing the previous sad camera-missing post, we asked Teresa (our house-helper) if she had seen the camera. She apparently has a photographic memory (no pun intended) and led us to retrace our steps once more.

It was in a random box of toys.

Hurray! Praise Jesus! Thankful for the time it was gone (sanctification?), thankful for Teresa, and thankful we have our little blue point and shoot back!

Picture of the Week: Missing

Sadly, I think we lost our camera.

Brian got it for me two Christmases ago. A cute little blue point and shoot. We remember seeing it Thursday on top of the fridge (easy access for us, not easy access for a three year old). But now, we can't find it. Here are our three scenarios: 1) It is somewhere in the house...although we have looked seemingly everywhere. 2) It miraculously flipped off the fridge, into the trashcan (flipping open the lid) and was taken out Saturday morning before we realized it's disappearance. 3) It was stolen by the man that delivers our groceries...though I kinda like him. He seems honest and I was basically watching him the whole time he unloaded the milk and vegetables.

I do not like any of these options. And therefore I'm left with no solution, no probable guess and no closure. I really liked that camera, but (and maybe it's like this with you too) losing things bugs me more than the value of the thing. I feel out of control. I feel frustrated with my lack of omniscience. I wonder why God would allow this to happen. I mean, it's not a devastating tragedy. It's not insignificant either. It's mildly saddening, middle-ground-ish frustrating and I suppose irksome enough for me to see my idol of control.

So, no picture this week. We still have our phone cameras (so, please, it's not like we're suffering here!), and we'll adjust our photography and hopefully God will use even this lost thing to find my easily wayward heart.