Yeah, I know, I have to finish my Moms Panel Trip Report, but some things just strike me as funny, and if I don’t write them down, I not only forget about them, but I forget that they were funny. And in a round about way, this could relate to the Moms Panel – at least to Jo, our “British Subject”. It’s a stretch. Sue me.
So, we have this gorgeous nativity that my husband bought for me when we moved to South Florida oh so many years ago. I look forward to having it brought out each year, because it reminds me of the nativity my grandmother had. There were so many pieces to her nativity, and we were always allowed to play with the pieces, move them around, and make the nativity what we wanted it to be. Yeah, sometimes there were sheep in the cradle, and a baby Jesus face down in a trough of water somewhere, but as long as no one was getting hurt physically (forget the emotional damage done by drowning the baby Jesus), the nativity was ours to play with.
I have always allowed my girls to play with our nativity to an extent. There is no drowning baby in our set, and I try to steer them clear of the small pieces, like the pottery and the rugs. But it is certainly not uncommon to see Eilis and Granuaile sitting in the windowsill at Christmas time, moving the Kings further away from the manger as they shop in the pottery barn, or putting the Blessed Mother in a hair dresser chair that belongs to a Barbie (hey, do you know what kind of mess she might have under those veils? The roots, split ends, bad color – it could happen!).
Last night was a typical night. They played happily until bedtime, moving the pieces, chatting up the shop keepers, bargaining with the rug seller (don’t ask why I have a rug seller in my nativity – it’s like an addiction, this nativity, and I can’t stop adding pieces). I didn’t bother to put any of the pieces back in place last night, figuring I would fix things after I did my school run this morning.
Imagine my surprise – and listen to my VERY Irish grandparents rolling over in their graves – when I came home to see that apparently the sheep have staged a bit of a revolution. They are looking at rejoining the Kingdom!
I do know that my daughter Eilis was very much taken with the UK during our trip this summer. It was her first time there, and she loved not only everything about London, but everything about the people. She loved the cab drivers, the shop keepers, the waitresses (although most of them were from Poland). She loved the stores, the food, the palace.
Now, I’m not saying Eilis is behind this. It’s totally possible the sheep could be planning something all on their own. I’ve checked the manger for a secret weapons cache, and I think the Holy Family is safe for the time being. But just in case – Jo, can you talk to your people over there and see if there’s room for a few rebellious sheep? Or maybe a not so subtle 7 year old?