I didn't attend Vacation Bible School when I was little. Catholic doctrine every school day for nine months plus Sunday mass must have seemed adequate for my Jesus learnin'. Summers were for hanging out with heathens anyway, right? Needless to say, I didn't know how to explain Vacation Bible School to Baby Girl. I told her all day that we were going to Bible camp. Girlfriend knows that certain books in our house are called Bible, but I'm not sure she knows the theological weight they carry. What I do know is that every time this one particular gal pal comes over, who happens to be Jewish, Baby Girl goes and fetches her children's picture Bible and insists our friend read it aloud to her. Sneaky little evangelist, that one. Anyway, I wasn't sure if she would dig Vacay Bible Pow-wow Boot Camp Thing since I wasn't able to give her a sense of the what, who, how, why...only the when...but on our way there tonight, she said, "We're going to church camp?" Duh, mama. Why didn't you just distill it like that?
It was a little over her head, the games and skit-making and so forth. And she kept looking for the organist. But there were juiceboxes? So maybe we'll go back tomorrow?