I’m always a little surprised at what my three year old is listening to. (Read: I’m scared.)
After spending a week in the beautiful Hill Country of Texas, I made this comment:
I don’t see how anyone could spend a week at this camp and not come away changed.
After all, we learned a LOT about God and forgiveness, and barring a heart of rocks, that has to change a person from the inside out. It’s the best thing about camp.
I still stand by that statement. But to be honest, I wasn’t really applying it to my preschooler. Yes, she was there. Yes, she “participated” in all the classes and worship services. But I guess I wasn’t quite prepared for how much she’d actually bring home with her.
As usual, she got her facts a little mixed up. (OK, maybe a lot mixed up.) But she was listening! I know this because a full four days after we returned, she was riding along in her car seat when out of the blue, this narrative came spilling out:
Finally, the OLDER brother got a job.
At Camp Bandina.
Feeding the swiney pigs.
I think he just threw it at them so he wouldn’t get dirty.
Then he ran all the way home.
And his father hugged and hugged him.
But the OTHER brother, he was mean.
Not the OLDER brother, because he GOT a birthday.
But the OTHER brother yelled at him and said, “HEY! Why didn’t you give ME a birthday!”
All of this was followed by a random exclamation of,
We have PLENTY of hairs on our heads!
So, my friends, be careful what you say around a three year old. She just might be listening!