I have been home for the last week on Spring Break. (It really hasn't been a break from anything, but I'll explain all that later.)
Months ago, my boyfriend and I promised my six year old sister that we would take her skiing over the break. On the way to the mountains, we had a very deep conversation.
"Dory, did you know one of the boys in my class is really fat?" Jamey has called me Dory since she was about a year and a half old. It's adorable.
"Now Jamey, would God want you to call someone fat?" I try to be a good influence on the kid. I don't want her turning into a total demon later.
"God would want J.R. to be healthy and strong Dory."
She had a point there. "Well, maybe you should help J.R. Exercise with him or something."
"Dory," she sounded annoyed. "There is no hope for J.R. He gives up every single time he tries to run in P.E."
Poor kid, he's only in the first grade and my baby sister has already lost all faith in him.