God 2, Heathens 1

Husband's parents are devout Catholics. As it is in many homes across this great country of ours, my in-laws begin most meals with a prayer. Perp has learned to sit with her hands in standard prayer position and yell "AMEN!" at the end. I suspect she will be leading the prayer in a few short years. It's remarkably cute and I hope that she is able to develop a framework of faith that gets her through hard times. I really do. I don't ever see it happening to her parents, but it'll be a great way to separate herself from us, heathens that we are.

Imagine my horror (and, I'll admit it, hysterical laughter) when she started shrieking, "OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!" whenever, well, whenever she felt like it. The first time was after she discovered that if she tossed her big rubber ball up the stairs it would bounce back down and smack her in the face, if she stood in just the right spot. Oh bliss! oh rapture unforseen!

Lately, it's popping up in odder circumstances. I can't even think of one off the top of my head, sadly. But her inflection is perfect, astonishment mixed with elation, like she's just won the toddler lottery: access to every drawer and cabinet in the house.

Most Saturdays I go to the local yarn shop and attend a stitch & bitch. It's a nice break, we chat and snack and get all crafty and shit. I'm even resurrecting my long-dead aspirations to be a knitter. I'll keep you updated; I konw you're dying to hear about it.

As I was leaving the house, I heard Perp shouting from the bottom of the stairs. It was a chant that I think Husbands parents would swell with pride to hear. Who knows, maybe she'll be leading dinnertime prayer sooner than I thought:

"OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! GOD IS GOOD, AMEN!"