Spirits and flesh

It's Sunday. While adults say the prayer of confession, children connect dots. H. looks intently at the resulting pattern. Amorphous flow. A. raises her eyes with a knowing look and pontificates:
"It's the beard and bread"
Of course, what she means is "It's the beer and bread"
Of course, what she really means is "It's the wine and bread"
On the paper, the contours of the cup and the bread.

between plastics and sinews

J (with a huge smile on her face): "Dad, you know, toys can't feel pain"
If I know anything about interpreting the face, then this smile is at best morally ambiguous.
Last week we had revisited Toys Story. No smiles were evident then.
The difference between plastics and sinews is the smile.

hospitable, hospice, hospital, host, hostile

J, E and I are watching Jimmy Neutron.
J: "Dad, what if they put little robots in our brain?"
Me: "Who are they?"
J (pedagogical and certain): "Nurses"
Ten days ago J watched her older sisters being strapped down by nurses and being administered a battery of shots. Modern medicine meets modern child. Immunizations, numbness, and smiley faces. We have a duty to teach our kids they can never be careful enough. Or, failing that, conspiratorial enough.