Neither Mr. Boy nor I are Vacation Bible School material, but the two girls love it.  Peppy songs, arts and crafts, and a big assembly at the end of the week.  I bribed came to an agreement with Mr. Boy that if he would attend VBS without complaining, I would give him extra Lego privileges.  (Legos are a controlled substance in this household, what with the goat-like habits of the experienced toddler and the aspiring toddler.)


Turns out they have not needed my volunteer hours, at least not yet, despite the stern warning on the registration form that all parents were expected to volunteer, or else.    (Or else: bring snacks.  If there’s one things I’m worse at than VBS, it’s VBS-snacks.  So I said I’d volunteer.)  Our parish is blessed with an army of professional early-childhood educators, all of them out on leave for the summer and apparently getting restless for lack of activities to lead.  Or something. 


Freed for a couple hours with no responsibilities except  SB (her: first word: "back pack" – she’s highly portable), I headed across town to visit a dying kinsman at the hospital.  (Too complicated to explain the precise relationship.).   Love him dearly, and 80-something is way way too early for him to go.


You might think that the peppiness of the VBS-CD — sent home with each family so the children can learn their songs for that assembly at the end of the week — might ring a little hollow at a time like this.   But not at all.   As Father said at that first funeral I blogged about earlier this year, "It is for this day that we are baptised".   Choruses of children urging, "Dive into Jesus!" is just the thing right now.


Meanwhile, the Curt Jester has posted a brilliant You-Tube on this whole question of songs with hand-motions. For those of us who are VBS-resistant.