I Live in the Peanut Gallery

Joseph the Ninja
This year, I helped with the children’s Christmas play at our church. My eldest, my five-year-old boy’s boy, made his stage debut as Joseph. It was a non-speaking part. His job was to stand next to the manger, and look protective and father-like. That’s what we told him to do, anyway.

All through rehearsals, he did just that. There were a few nose-picking moments, but other than that, he was ready to go.

During the actual play, all of which I spent backstage herding guiding little angels, shepherds, and sheep, my child took his role of protector to baby Jesus to heart. I also think he had a strong desire to, um, show off. Like his mother. *cough cough*

My husband informed me afterward that my Turbo was striking ninja poses. When I asked Turbo what he did during the play, he told me “I was doing the ninja dance.” Very matter-of-factly, I might add.

Of course Joseph would do the ninja dance. How else would he keep dangerous stable animals away from the baby who was lying in their food?


My only regret is that none of our pictures turned out at all! I’m hoping a friend happened to catch one or two, and if I can track one down, you’ll see it in no time!

Commentary on the Christmas Eve Sermon
On Christmas Eve, we attended our church’s “whole family” evening service. (“Whole Family” = “No Childcare”) I was genuinely excited about sitting all together to listen to the teaching on the Christmas story, though I was a bit nervous, considering that our kids don’t usually sit with us in services. Truly, they were very well-behaved and quiet most of the time.

The key word being “most”.

Keep in mind as you read this that we are only three rows back from the front.

Turbo is also at the center of this story. Because he takes after his momma.

Our pastor was trying to illustrate the humility it took for God to take the form of a human baby. He likened it to God asking one of us to become a chihuahua, and sending us to a planet full of bloodthirsty pit bulls and dobermans, where we would be killed. And we’d be a chihuahua forever.

My son did not realize that this was not a Q & A session, and piped up so everyone could hear: “What’s a chihuahua?” I have no idea if Pastor Jim heard him or not, but I know everyone else did! There were many laughs, both stifled and outright, including ours. No one who was there would deny its funniness.

Later on, as Levi kept quietly reminding Turbo that he needed to stay quiet and listen to the story, Turbo got tired of waiting.

He sighed loudly and said (equally loudly) “This is a long story!” There were more looks and laughs.

Needless to say, I had a hard time staying quiet myself. Especially because I had no idea if our pastor could hear him. Luckily, Cuteness let me know she needed to go potty, and I could mercifully leave the sanctuary and laugh my head off outside the doors!

Any cute stories from your Christmas? Do tell!