I have just told Jellybean that she is not to have any more chocolate cake. With one little hand upon her chest and the other thrown out, embracing the world, her eyes to the sky and brow furrowed in deepest emotion, her royal highness musters all of the woe in her little body and says: "My heart... is hurt. *sigh* You broke my feelings." Her arms and head droop pitifully toward the floor, she gives a couple of convincing sniffs and exits the room. There is a deep silence. Then... everyone breaks out into hysterical laughter.
"This, dear friends, is the seal of an authentic experience of the Holy Spirit, the source of every charism: the person endowed with supernatural gifts never boasts of them, never flaunts them and, above all, shows complete obedience to the ecclesial authority." More here.
Last time I took the children to Cookie's beach volleyball game, the younger ones (9 and under) were not well behaved. They got sand in every possible crevice and managed to disrupt games and kick sand in a parent's beverage. You must not act that way, kids. No more tumbling in the sand and running around like monkeys. Absolutely no throwing sand. EVER. Sit still and behave.
They insist that this time they did remember my admonition but thought it irrelevant since they found an empty court where they could bother no one. So they proceeded to do many of the things which they were told not to do and the result was as follows.
Crash (age 9) and Button (age 6) were engaged in a sand war. They ended up unhappy with each other and somehow managed to throw sand directly into each others mouths. The result was that they both ended up "puking their guts out" (as the saying goes) in the grass. Please forgive my lack of compassion. The account has tickled my funny bone to the extreme and all I can say is: I. Told. You. So. :)
(The greatest irony of course is that I had to rely on eye-witness accounts because I was still sitting at home nursing my injured toe, foolish woman that I am.)
|Jellybean playing in the sand.|