I was standing at the kitchen sink washing dishes when I noticed my four year old son arranging his stuffed animal toys in short rows in front of a chair on the grass. At first I paid no attention to him but regained interest when he climbed on the chair and began speaking. I could not hear him so I quietly opened the window as not to alert him to my eaves dropping. He stopped talking, got down and with his small beach shovel dug a hole next to the chair.
He picked up one of the stuffed toys then got back up on the chair and began speaking.
I still could not hear him clearly. At the end of his sentence he threw the toy into the hole next to the chair.
Bewildered, I dried my hands and snuck out the back door and made my way around the garage to gain a better vantage point. As I rounded the corner of the garage I could hear him plainly.
“In the name of the father and the son. . .”
He stopped as he realized I was there.
Caught and embarrassed, I stood up acting like I was only strolling by.
[Hey, son, what are you doing?]
[Playing preacher; that nice. What are you doing with the animals?]
“I’m babtizing them.”
[What are you doing with the hole]
“Just doing what the preacher said.”
He picked up one of the stuffed toys; held it up and said. . .
“In the name of the father and the son and in the hole he goes.”
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