Yes, Sir, That's My Baby

So, here's the good news: Kristin has found a part-time job working in youth ministry at Collegiate Presbyterian Church in Ames. The staff is great, she likes the office and her co-workers, things are good. So, great, right?

Well, yes. They're good folks, and we realized this when Kristin went in on Friday to sign some papers and get things rolling on the payroll stuff. Ainsley, of course, came along for the ride. She walked into the office with Mommy and was, of course, an instant hit; our little girl is pretty much our best public relations ploy at the moment. That is, until you put her down and let her walk around and see what's what.

There was this statue of Jesus somewhere in the office, and naturally Ainsley wanted to investigate. So, under Mommy's watchful eye, she walked over and patted it on the head. It promptly fell over. And broke.

That's right: my kid broke Jesus.



When I was five years old or so, my aunt & uncle bought their first house and we helped them move in. It was a split level with fairly modern construction, including an open staircase and railings. To a five year old farm boy, of course, such things are meant to double as a jungle gym. Within ten minutes of arriving in the house I had pulled their railing out of the drywall. Fifteen years later, the same aunt and uncle moved into a new house in the same city, and we again helped them move. This time, I was just walking downstairs when I stepped wrong, grabbed the railing for support and again pulled their railing out of the wall. (When we moved into our new house in Ames, we invited the aunt & uncle to return the favor when they came for a short visit - and they politely declined.) I've got a reputation for breaking something the minute I get going in a new house/job/etc. It's nice to know that my kid is now known for making the same destructive first impression.

But that's not the worst of it. At the time, the office administrator just watched the statue topple and said, "That's really funny." Sort of bemused about it, you know - kids just break stuff sometimes. But when Kristin returned to attend her first staff meeting yesterday, she discovered that Ainsley had not just broken a statue - it was a sculpture done by Christian Peterson, a local artist of some repute whose works are all over the campus. I'm assuming it's a reproduction, because the staff was still laughing about it yesterday, but seriously, I'm beginning to feel like the Topper - "That's nothing. My kid broke Jesus!"