The Joyful Priest and the Irritating Parable

We found ourselves on Saturday evening at Our Lady Queen of Peace again.

It’s a long story, and I was in Berms and sandals. I know. Some people do think that is acceptable “Sunday Best” or attire for Church, but I don’t and I was quite mortified. But as PL puts it, is it a greater sin to miss Mass or to attend Mass in Berms and sandals?

(My answer was, we’re still going to Hell, but now everyone will be in Berms and sandals. I have NO IDEA how that is worse.)

Anyway, mass was celebrated by the one I call the Joyful Priest. I’d blogged about him before.

I like him, and I took it as a blessing that the one day we ended up in Queen Of Peace, he was the priest celebrating mass.

Berms and sandals or not.

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Z reads me to sleep (or tries to)

One weekend, as I was trying to take an afternoon nap, Z decided to help.

By reading me a bedtime story.

This would of course not be helpful because I’m not 3 years old anymore. But the novelty of being read to sleep by a cute toddler trying to be grown up, and trying to do for her father what we do for her, was too much to deny.

Besides I was drowsy.

Who knows? It might work, no?

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Not the way Peanut Butter Cups are made

Z loves the Reese’s Peanut Butter cups.

And Peanut Butter sandwiches.

I bought some Reese’s snack packs which had a mix of Reese’s Pieces (like M&M but with peanut butter filling instead of chocolate), pretzels, some kind of nut (hazelnut IIRC), and mini peanut butter cups. Really mini. Even smaller than the “Mini Peanut Butter cups” Reese’s sells in small packs.

Anyway, I used to give her a snack-size peanut butter cup as a reward for whatever. And she loves it. And sometimes when she thinks she deserves it, she would ask for one.

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Z rules!

Z was attracted by an arcade and pulled me in to have a look.

It has been a while since I stepped into one and one thing that has changed was the Air Hockey game. The basic rules are still the same:  get the puck into the opposite goal to score points.

Except the chaos on the table was quite unfamiliar.

Firstly, who said you should be restricted to just one puck?

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The Scent (or stink) of Age

I’m starting to smell like an old man.

It’s the smell of koyok – the medicated heat patch (a.k.a. the “Ben Gay smell”). The old man’s (or person’s) smell.

And today I restrained myself from having a “Dad moment“. My Dad.

I was at the Eye Clinic.

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“Chikok! Chikok!”

Z took the headlight (a torch/lamp you strap onto your head, not the lights at the front of the car), and was making camera sounds as she pretended to take pictures with her make-believe camera that was the headlight.

Somehow, she had decided that the sound made by cameras was “chikok!”

Which was not too far off.

So anyway, when we saw a toy camera in the Toys’r Us catalog, I ask PL if we should get Z one.

It was only $10.

Maybe it would have electronically produced sounds.

But after a short discussion, we felt that there was no value added, and we would miss the sound of “chikok! Chikok!”.

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Unofficial Bus Shelter Roof Inspector

Z likes double-decker bus.

And of course, she likes riding on the upper deck.

Previously, while on an upper deck, the bus we were on stopped at a bus stop, and we could see the roof (or top) of the bus shelter. It was black and brown with dead leaves.

“Daddy! The roof is dirty!” Z reported.

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