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Skidamarink

I don’t know why the United Nations gets itself all up in a twist; I have found the simple and certain key to world peace. Are you ready for it?

It’s a room full of four year olds singing Skidamarink-a-Dinky-Dink.

It’s true. It’s biologically, chemically impossible to witness this type of thing and retain a single negative emotion in your head. I know this, because I stopped by my daughter’s preschool class on Thursday for their annual Mother’s Day breakfast. The four-year-olds had been hard at work for weeks, learning songs and making crafts to share with their moms.

(“It’s a VERY SPECIAL PARTY with a VERY SPECIAL PRESENT,” she had been preparing me, with wide-eyed seriousness, for many days. “But I CAN’T TELL YOU WHAT WE’RE SINGING. Because IT’S A SURPRISE.”)

They started by showing us their morning routine, beginning with the Pledge of Allegiance. In a staggering bit of good luck, it was my daughter’s turn to hold the flag (holding the flag for Mother’s Day breakfast is a little like a hitting a homerun at the World Series, wouldn’t you say?):

They lined up for some Skidamarink and a few other songs (including, to the tune of B-I-N-G-O, “I have a very special friend, and Mommy is her name-o”. Oh, my heart.)

After a delightful musical performance sprinkled with motions, some bashful tears, and a handful of cut-ups, we lined up for snacks:

We ate and laughed together, and my girl gave me the VERY SPECIAL PRESENT her teachers helped her make:

It’s a painted pot, filled with soil and topped with a seed packet. (“It’s REAL-LIVE DIRT that you can PLANT STUFF IN,” she explained.) She could hardly wait to come home and plant the seeds to grow basil, which, ironically, she will never eat, because “IT’S SPICY! IT’S TOO SPICY!”

I hugged my girl and headed out, but not before noticing the little white board in the corner:

I love that verse, even if it’s an incredibly high standard. Her children call her blessed? Sometimes mine call me grouchy. If it means “blessed” in the sense that I’m quick to bless others, well, there are many days I fall terribly short. But if it means “blessed” in the sense that I’ve been the recipient of many good treasures?

Yes. Yes, I have. And I have a pot of basil seeds to prove it.

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