Delicious

Last week as we were driving up to visit friends in Ashland, Oregon, we stopped at Lake Shasta for the night. At breakfast, both the kids ordered hot chocolate and, as expected, there was a spill. Not Jonah, the 2 1/2 year old, but Zoe the BIG kid. She spilled the WHOLE cup all over herself. Luckily, she had diluted it with like 9 little creamers, so it wasn’t too hot. But she was

covered

in hot chocolate. A chocolate covered Zoe. So, we excuse ourselves and hoof it back to our room to clean her up. On the way there, she licks her arm and says, “MMMMmmm! I taste GOOD!” And it reminded me of this, which I found on StumbleUpon.

Big Questions

Zoe has been handing out some doosies lately. On Saturday, she was sitting in the car eating a Popsicle while I cleaned my car (yes, I know…two opposing activities). Out of nowhere, she asks if I know cheezus. I thought she was asking about goldfish crackers so I asked if she wanted some crackers.

Zoe: “Do you know Cheezus?”
Me: (thinking she wanted something else to eat…) Do you want some goldfish crackers?”
Zoe: (annoyed) “No. Do you know CHEEZ-us?
Me: “Do you mean Jesus?”
Zoe: “Yes. Some bad men did things to him.”
Me: “Um. Yeah. Where did you hear this?” Note: we are not at all religious, so I am now confounded about where this is coming from…
Zoe: “Daddy.”

So I asked Stan about this and he told me that with all the missions and churches they visited while in Mexico, Zoe was fascinated with all the images of Jesus and kept asking about his wounds and why people hurt him.

Then this morning I am driving her to school and we are, as usual, listening to NPR. There is a story about a man who flew fighter planes in WWII, in spite of the fact that he was African American. At that time, African Americans were only given menial jobs because of a study that was done after WWI that claimed that “negroes were a sub-species of human”. (I’m not kidding….here is a link to the story) After listening to this story, Zoe asks:

Zoe: “When will we die?”

After a moment of panicking because I don’t know exactly what to say, I decide on this:

Me: “Not for a long time, sweetie.”
Zoe: “YAY! Can I have a lollipop?”

Remembering Bibbs

When I was little, my mom was on the school board and was fortunate enough to meet a woman named Bibbs Orr, who was also on the board. Bibbs was Scandinavian – tall, robust, and elegant. She had a slight accent, which further enhanced her elegance in my mind.

My most vivid memory of her was when my sister Meri and I got to go to a school board conference with my mom in Anaheim at Disneyland. We were staying at the Disneyland hotel which was ridiculously exciting. We were meeting Bibbs for dinner, and as we were walking outside at night, we saw her: she was dressed in heels and beige slacks, with a cream sweater, I believe. The most memorable part was her cape that was blowing dramatically in the wind. She was walking past the fountain that was lit up, and when she saw us, she opened her arms and called out, “My Princesses!”. We went running over to her and were enveloped in her cape as she hugged us.

She loved good food, and would pile her plate high at the breakfast buffet. She loved to taste roasted coffee beans and said that was the best way to tell if the coffee would be good.

Bibbs died many years ago of ovarian cancer. Thinking of her this morning, I was wondering whether she knew what she meant to me, and that she would have a lasting effect on me? I hope so.