My Master Plan

Saturday is the boy?s birthday. He is going to be a whoppin? 2 years old! Enter the terrible twos. Oh wait… He?s already there. Actually he is a really good boy, just your typical 2 year old who thinks he can have cookies for breakfast. HA! We outsmarted him. He asks for cookies and we give him crackers.

So since Saturday is his birthday I thought it would be a great idea to have him baptized on Sunday. The original idea was because that Sunday happened to be free on the flower chart at the church. So now we are up to, “why did your parent?s name you that?” “Well, they couldn?t think of anything better.” and “Why were you baptized the day after your birthday?” “Well, that day was free on the flower chart.” Much to my chagrin after I discussed this as the day for his baptism (like 4 months ago) that day was taken on the chart. Good thing is now I don?t have to pay for flowers for Sunday!

Back to the story. Baptism is Sunday. Elle has this grand plan that she is going to collect water from the Amur River to baptize her child with. I carefully take an empty mason jar with me all the way to Russia. I hike my happy ass down to the river. Not an easy jaunt I might add. Risk life and bacterial infection to collect said water from said river and then douse myself from head to toe in Purell. I have video even. Ok, not the Purell part, but collecting the water. I once again carefully wrap the jar of scummy yellow water and cart it all the way back from Russia and proudly place it upon my mantle. Collect water: CHECK!

I tell the pastor that I want to use this water to baptize our son. He says no problem. Just boil it for 5 minutes and we?ll dump it into the recycling baptismal font. Boil water… I can boil water. This afternoon I figured I should get on that. I carefully dump the precious, from Russia, water into the pan and make sure to put the lid on. I don?t want my from Russia water to boil away in the event that I have a dumb moment and forget it. I go about the business of cleaning our family room in anticipation of over 40 people decending upon my home. (you attachment parenting people keep your words to yourself) I walk by the kitchen on the way to put something away somewhere and think, gee I should check on that water. The pan isn?t making any boiling noises. Remember, the lid is on the pan. I turn off the heat and remove the lid to bask in the glory of my from Russia water. Much to my shock and dismay the water has somehow magically disappeared from the pan. I look in to a steaming (or not so steaming) pan of nothing. Well shit. I flew all the way around the world to bring home this water so I can baptize my son with it and it has the audacity to boil away… with the lid ON!!! Damn water.

How the hell does that happen? Was the water so laced with benzene that this is God?s way of telling me that if I poured that water into the font it would make my child and every person there after grow a third head, or at best a third nipple? Boil water to baptize said child: not so much check. Great plan huh?

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