I.
Me, annoyed, with the latest Netflix dvd delivery: Hey, what's this? What's "Babe I"? Who the heck ordered "Babe I"? What kind of movie is "Babe I"? What's this rated anyway?
Owen: Mom. "Babel." It says "Babel."
II.
Owen and I are trying to find an address.
Owen: Check Google.
I start typing: www.go--
Owen: It's just so cute that you still type the www.
III.
In church.
An unfortunate liturgical attempt at up-to-dateness during the Prayer of Confession. "Imaginative God." I see Owen grin.
We confess that we've messed up Imaginative God's creation with "litter and violence." The juxtaposition makes me giggle; Owen snorts as he tries to swallow his laughter.
By the time we admit that we've turned away from God's banquet table to "Fast Food counters," the pew is shaking. We've lost it entirely.
You're a bad influence, I tell Owen. He reminds me that I'm the one who's supposed to be doing the influencing.
Right. I knew that.
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