Playing with purpose

Thou hast beset me behind and before, and laid thine hand upon me.

ALA-PA-BAMAA

This was my lesson.

This past weekend was a gloriously busy weekend for me. It started with an early arrival in Denver to visit with some of my children. I came early in hopes of avoiding a rain and possible snow storm. This storm promised to occur simultaneously from Wichita, Kansas, to Denver, Colorado. Colorado Springs, Colorado, everything in between, and beyond those boundaries. And because I am related to Murphy Law, none of that happened.

But I enjoyed the company. Beginning with the entertaining, Lynches. I love those guys, it is never boring.  The type of people, who, when you listen to their family discourse,  you find yourself grinning while you sleep.

Then time with more of my kids and discoveries from their influences. For instance, I discovered a new function for pool noodles. We had amazing battles with them. When they are damp from the pool, they pack a stinging punch. But all the power and swing of the noodle can be deflated by simply holding your own noodle in front of you. Noodles counter-man other noodles.

Now though I maintained my seating, I was in fact winning the war. I had captured three of my enemy’s noodles. I could hear the awe in their voices and hesitation to approach me until one of them noticed something amiss. During the battle my oxygen tubing had been knocked askew, causing both nose tubes to land in one nostril. I had not noticed.

Do you know, after they stop laughing and rolling on the floor; how emboldened an enemy can become at the sight of such human frailty?

But, I received my most profound lesson when the four-year-old walked up to me; waved her wand and grandly said, “Ala-pa-bamaa you’re a Prinicess!”

“Princess Auntie,” I corrected. “Ala-pa-bamaa you’re a Princess Auntie!” Showing my pleasure, I applauded and demurely batted my eye lashes. Three times she waved her wand and grandly pronounced me a Princess. I decided I would throw her a curve. Bored with my Princess Auntie status, after her fourth announcement I replied, “no I am a Princess Frog!” And I let loose a royal, “rrribbit!”

Briefly pausing she waved her wand again and said, “Ala-pa-bamaa you’re a Princess Crapola!”

Now, that took me completely by surprise, I wasn’t sure she knew what crapola was, so I asked. “What does Princess Crapola mean?” Skipping away she said, “dip stick.”

When I could get her to return, I confessed I was not in fact a frog, would she make me a Princess Auntie again?

“My Father, Friend, Savior, and Keeper, in all the ways I choose to be a dip stick please forgive me. Wave your cleansing, declaring, establishing wand over me, I promise to walk in the royalty designated for me as your child.”

Boy this free will stuff can be precarious. Get your Ala-pa-bamaas while you can!

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