Here’s the song reference.
One of the great Halloween traditions at our house, and the one perhaps most eagerly anticipated by the tribe, is the presentation of gifts to our wee tribe that are, shall we say, not suitable for polite company. There are gummy body parts, toy bugs, snakes, and spiders, and other treats that verge on the vile. The kids, of course, think this is perhaps the coolest set of little surprises they receive all year, and as a result, we rarely have any trouble getting them to eat dinner on Halloween night — the brown paper bags will not appear if so much as a morsel remains on their plates.
This year’s offerings, in addition to ghoulishly blue ring pops and pumpkin-shaped marshmallows, included little canisters of glow-in-the-dark slime. My husband and I remember the goo fondly from our own childhoods, and giggled madly when we discovered it in the dollar bin at Target. We rationalized giving this to a kindergartner and two preschoolers by considering the possibility of a science lesson about non-Newtonian fluids. Homeschooling has its perks, you know.
The slime in question was the surprise hit of Halloween. As soon as each child finishes breakfast in the morning, she or he sets about clamoring for a tub of slime. Beanie is particularly enamored of her wee vat of green goo, and has merry adventures with it and her little Care Bears toys. This morning, while Bugaboo was curled up on the couch watching her Saturday morning cartoons, Beanie meandered into the kitchen, where I was attempting to assemble a grocery list, and plumped her rump into her chair.
“Mommy, I want to play with my slime, please.”
“Okay, Beanie. Please keep it out of my coupons, okay?”
“Can I get a Care Bear to hide in it?”
“Sure, why not?”
As she pelted out of the kitchen to retrieve a toy, she chortled back over her shoulder, “I’m getting Share Bear, because slime is more fun when you share it, and Share Bear knows lots about sharing!”
For the next hour, a curly-haired, shining-eyed little blessing of a girl played contentedly with her pool of slime and a pink plastic bear, narrating the bear’s adventures as she went. First the slime was a mud puddle, then a sleeping bag to wrap around the bear, then a skating rink, then a green donut, then a meadow, then a frisbee, then a pizza, then a BIG GOOEY MONSTER that would have eaten the poor bear had Beanie not rescued her from its evil clutches.
I could sit and listen to Beanie tell stories for hours. She is completely unselfconscious about it, and equally oblivious to anything that’s going on around her. Give her a pile of confetti, and she names the pieces and sends them on quests. The common thread in all of her adventures is kindness — everyone has to share and use nice words. I love that about her.
Today’s prayer: Lord, thank You for this little blessing who cannot abide ugliness. Help me teach her that she must show the same love towards others that she insists upon in her play, the same gentleness of manner and speech that You used. Cleanse my heart of anger and rancor, that I may be Your face to her and thus teach her with more than words.