The Flying Dutchman

I've been formulating this post in my head for months. The inspiration comes from over 1 year of knowing and loving one of the best men I have ever known.

Our story isn't typical, and is far from normal, but that works for us quite well. We met the night I got back from my time at home last year for Christmas, and proceeded to spend every meal, every evening, and basically every waking moment seeing each other while we worked on the ship this past year in Togo.

We drank tea every night and talked while watching the container ships unload thier goods while rats and cockroaches ran around on our little dirty dock in Lome, Togo. For us it was strangely romantic, the dance of the rats and cockroaches. It became familiar, it was our thing.
We sailed for a total of nearly a month, eating our lunch on the bow every day and watching for whales (which he always saw before anyone else. The man loved those whales)

We saw sides of each other in every circmstance imaginable. We rode for 500Km on motorcycles to remote waterfalls, ate picknics and drank cold coka cola out of the bottle in every small city we passed. We drank coffee on deserted beaches on Sundays and played with the local kids who couldn't stifle their curiosity at the two yovos on an electric blue chineese motorcycle rolling up. When I asked him quite honestly if he had seen me violently throwing up during a hike (refer back to my last post about not hiking following a three week African stomach bug) he answered honestly, as he always does, with"No, but I heard you".

A friend wrote in her blog once about having a relationship start and spending the first months in Africa together. She said that having a relationship in Africa should be considered in dog years. I like that one, and anyone who has experienced this knows exactly what it means.

In South Africa we spent four months working hard in our seperate environments, coming together each weekend to spend hour upon hour talking about our week. He stayed with me on my 12 hour night shifts every Sunday and always gently held the babies as if they'd break when they would give us those 'I need some lovin' eyes' (or when they screamed, but I want this to sound poetic and that scenario doesn't fit).
We enjoyed life to the fullest African-style, all while letting our hearts break and also be mended for those who surrounded us.

Michiel has a heart bigger than the ocean he loves so much. To watch him interact with others makes me want to be a better person. He is patient, kind, loving, giving, and much more in a fruits-of-the-spirit-kinda way.
We came to Holland in February so I could get a chance to live with his family and get to know him in his own environment. Its proving to be a great decision in that we are learning, growing, and I am able to appreciate Holland beyond its tulips, windmills, and clogs (although those are all great things too)

Had it not been for God, Michiel would have left the ship when he was supposed to, 8 weeks after arriving. Without having met Jesus, he would have gone home, went back to work, and would be carrying on the same as before. Most of us who have had an encounter with such a being(Jesus) knows that life is seldom ever the same after that. It makes us do things like sell our cars, give up our jobs, baffle our friends (and many others for that matter). Michiel did all those things with a few phone calls and 14 months after arriving he finished on the Africa Mercy.

I could go on and on, but I'm not sure where to stop quite honestly. I could talk about his hours and hours of work to teach 5 local African volunteers from the ship each week the art of electronics. How he is still in touch with every one of them and reads me each email he gets from them with a smile on his face.

His simplicity in faith, love for people, and energetic personality make him irresistable. He is simply one of those great guys who people can't help but be drawn to.

So to wrap this up I will announce the news that as of May this year I will officially be Mrs. Flying Dutchman after a small wedding here in Holland. This seems silly, and I suppose is just more of a record for myself seeing as though this is old news in the social-network, but hey, I get to write what I like. And I like my Dutchie.

Mighty flip flops and other tales from Africa

Its a funny thing, this blogging. I sit to write, but can't find words despite the noise that all of them are making while flying around my head.
As with most of my time in Africa, I feel conflicted in some way tonight. Today is different though, today while I still struggle with how life is for Africans, I also struggle with the thought of leaving tomorrow.
It snuck up on me, I wasn't thinking about it. And then it happened. The travel agent dude re-booked our tickets and the date stared back at me in black and white. I realized we leave tomorrow. Tomorrow night I will load my over-stuffed two bags onto the scale which will surely diplay a digital number far greater then my allowance. Tomorrow night I will suck in my last breaths of the crisp cool air here in South Africa. Tomorrow I will still be trying to process what the HECK just happened and how two years went by so so fast.

There is so much I want to say, but how does one wrap up an experience so extensive, so life altering, so intense?

On the lighter side, first a lesson in how to be a missionary, as told by Suzanne Zickell.

-When you pack your anti-malarials, go ahead and pack the sunscreen next to it. The only thing worse then being in the extreme heat of the African sun is to do so with a chemically-induced sunburn.
-Those nalgene water bottles are cool and trendy and all, but they are worthless when driving anywhere in Africa. Plan to go thirsty or get wet. Still bring it though, but remember to only put water in it. It seems like a good idea to put in tea or coffee, but if you forget about it and the milk goes funky you will never, I mean never, be able to forget the stench that once came out of that plastic bottle.
-Bring your nailpolish ladies, having fresh paint on your fingers and toes can lift those 'I feel sweaty, disgusting, and just plain gross' days
-Buy old navy flip flops and forget about any other pair you are thinking of bringing. No other article of clothing in my life has ever impressed me the way those baby's do. They're cheap, comfortable (once you convince your feet to get used to them as they will be in them everyday), and can be de-skunked by simply giving them a good scrub after an especially sweaty-footed day.
-Also bring a nail brush. Even after a horrible, painful hike made 100 times worse due to intense vomitting and near black outs, clean nails and a washed face can make it all melt away.
-Oh, and don't go for horrible, painful hikes while trying to recover from a 3 week stomach bug, your body will go into full revolt. But then at least you'll have your nailbrush to make you feel better...
-If you have to pee and you are approaching a border check point, don't hold it and fool yourself into thinking going there will be your best option. It never is. I promise.
-Take note of all signs that make you laugh, they'll keep on doing it everytime you're reminded of them. There's a place down the street selling life chickens, as an example.
-Look around always, take it all in. Be overwhelmed, don't avoid frustration, and always try something new. These will be the things you always carry with you, memories that get stored up and will someday be reflected back upon in scenarios such as....'this traffic is nothing, I remember the time I was in a hatchback taxi with 6 other adults and a child on the hottest day ever in the history of the world. And I had to pee. And we were at a border control point'

haha, oh this is kinda fun.

While driving these past weeks, I kept thinking about how hard it is to explain Africa. It doesn't matter how many different words or stories I use to describe this place, I'll never capture Africa and her beauty the way I see it. The red earth and green bush are so vivid and brilliant, even the sight of that never ceases to amaze me.
The skies here go on forever with no lights to interfere with your vision. The people, oh, the people. They can make you furious and hot with anger, and in a minutes time you are in awe of the potential and strength of Africans. Their capacity to love and have joy in the face of despair is beyond description. While picking apart their flaws, you eventually come back to yourself and see how imperfect you are too. It unites you and makes you strive to be a better person. Africa pushes you to the extreme limits in every way, and then calls you back for more.

I came to Africa and like many was shocked at the human condition here. The shock turned into understanding, the understanding led to me realizing I actually know almost nothing and understand even less, that led to appreciation for the incredible culture here, and lastly Africa became a state of mind, part of who I am. It influences every fiber of your being, how you think and feel and your desire for what you want to change in the world.

To say I will miss it here is a silly understatement. My life is about to radically change in the sense that what I have known as home, a place so foreign to me just 2 years ago, is no longer going to be where I lay my head. To be honest, I'm a little freaked out. Yes, yes, I know it will be ok, its time, [insert other words of comfort], but it doesn't cut it tonight. I want to go outside and dig my fingers into the dirt. I want to do more here, although if you asked me what exactly I would do, I couldn't tell you. God has the next steps planned out and I am desperate to figure out what they are, but knowing God, I don't get to know quite yet. So back to my freak out and slightly juvenile way of dealing with this transition...for now at least.

So please excuse me if I continue to process via the internet. I have a feeling there will be a slight backlash of emotion in the weeks to come. It's all part of the healing and reconciliation from what I've learned.

Tomorrow and in the days to come I'm sure my heart will ache to see the dusty bare feet of children as they walk down the road. My eyes will burn with tears when the memories flood back of all the lives who have touched mine. My heart will screem at the injustice I know happens here everyday. My arms will long for the beautiful brown babies who now consume my every thought. My mind will swim with ideas and ideals, frustrations and triumphs, love and hate, for all of the things I have seen here.

My hair will lose its humidity frizz, my old navy flip flops will be packed away tightly, and the fresh un-stained pages of a new journal will be filled as I start this next transition tomorrow.
That is, if they can get me onto the plane...

Maybe I'll go get the half slab of chocolate sitting in the fridge and watch Out of Africa or something cliché like that.

(the spelling and grammar within this post are purely my own. I am typing on a laptop programmed in Dutch and therefore every word I have written has red squiggly lines underneath it. The truth is out, I am an average speller)

Christmas in July

Today's forecast: hot.

Its hard to believe Christmas is this week. It doesn't in the least bit feel like it to me. Maybe my mind is blocking it out because the reality that this is the first year away from family I will ever spend is too harsh. But that's dramatic, and I like to think I'm not dramatic...so I will go on thinking its probably a host of other small things. Like the fact I have a tan from going on a safari last weekend. Or that I had to take a cold shower today after sweeping the floor because I was sweating. profusely. (aren't you glad you know that?)

Maybe its because I am busy, or it doesn't feel like a year has gone by yet since I was last celebrating.

Its nice actually, no commercials (no tv), no crazy mall traffic or tension to buy gifts. No holiday binge eating...although MAN I have been craving one of those huge cheapo tins of popcorn with the three flavors in it lately.

The things I miss get weirder and weirder, I swear.

There is no real point, I am realizing, to this post. I have less then 2 weeks left here at the orphanage and I am actually happy I will spend Christmas with them here. If I can't be with my family at home, this is where I would choose to be. In 4 short months I have fully and completely fallen in love with a great family and learned a lot about what it is to give of yourself for others. Christmas isn't 'just a day', it marks one of the most important days there is in a year. Its about the greatest love, in the form of the greatest gift.

I will surely miss Christmas morning at home. I will miss 24 hours of a Christmas Story on TV (although I have a copy and may just put it on repeat starting Christmas eve). I will miss the Chinese food after church on the 24th and then our lazy Christmas morning. I'll miss the eggs benedict and couch time in my pjs. And my family. Ugh, I will miss them most of all. But really and truly, I will be happy on Saturday. I will hold the babies and enjoy the kids. We'll go to church and eat lunch outside in our summer clothes. It won't be the tradition I'm used to, but I'm ok with that. I'll be surrounded by the people I love (one in particular comes to mind) and I'll celebrate the reason I am here, on His birthday.

Merry Christmas!

Just one last note. I am not at all opposed to eating the popcorn from the tin months after Christmas, say like...in May. By January the ugly ones and overstock that never sold should be on sale for a bargain of like 5 or 10 bucks. Just sayin'

The long and 'short' of it

Lately I have been soaking up every ounce of what surrounds me. I think there is an internal pressure applied every time I realize the date (which is about once a week) and count quickly the weeks left before I leave this place. I can feel my heart start to ache and I can almost predict how I will feel when the time comes to move on. This isn't the first time I have had to tear my heart away from bonds that give me a reason to wake up in the morning, bonds that seem to make my heart beat.
4 months seemed like enough time, this was just a 'filler' until the next thing.
Or so I thought.

For those of you who don't know (sorry bout' that) I left Mercy Ships in September. I originally was going to be on a leave of absence, but the ship sailing and arriving at the next port was almost exactly the same as my end-date of my two year commitment so rather then sail to a country that costs lots and lots of money to get out of only to leave right away, I am staying put for an extra month in South Africa (not too hard a place to be stuck...I promise)
It was actually easier then I thought it would be. I simply was meant to serve for two full outreaches and that's what I did. I won't go into a host of emotions that accompanied this year...ugh, work for another day, I say.

Anyways, it wasn't so hard to leave because I was on to the next thing, something I was so excited for, something I knew God had picked out for me months before.

Here I am. And now I've lost the direction of what I wanted to say...wonder if that will ever change.
Oh, here we go:
I've been thinking about ministry in relations to missions in general, especially now with the upcoming departure from both Sinakekele in January and Africa as a whole as well (don't have to rip off that band aid until February, thankfully). My last day of 'work' (as in the paying kind) was January 1st 2009. I will end this season of ministry on, take a guess...January 1st 2011. Two years. Wow, two years.

What I want to say is that on January 1st 2009 I wasn't totally ready. I wasn't spiritually 'matured' I wasn't well versed in the bible, I hadn't been doing the Christian 'thing' for very long, I wasn't a likely candidate for missions. The list goes on.
And today? I'm still not. Maybe I'm more mature, or I suppose weathered/seasoned/ground up/spit out/trampled on and put through the emotional ringer would be better terms to use.
The point of all of this that I am struggling to make is that none of us are ever 'ready'. Not financially, not physically, not emotionally, not mentally, not spiritually, for what God has in store for us. We may think we are in good shape, we may feel 'ready', but that doesn't actually matter. God looks for our trust in Him to complete us. He looks at our hearts and sees humility of lack thereof. He waits for us, all of us, to say "Here am I, send me", knowing that may mean we need to care for the homeless or the broken in our own community or, go to a foreign land.

We screw it up with our stipulations, friends. We close our eyes and ears to that still small voice, the news around us. We don't respond, we don't listen, we don't act. We say "I'll go this far, I'll do this, but not that" but its only to put our own minds at ease, I think
I've had one prominent thought on my mind for weeks now. I can't stop thinking about how short life is. You see it every where, we are inundated by the world's view of how our lives should look, what it is to be successful. We feel that pressure to succeed, save money, and create a picture of what we think is a good Christian life. Its not enough.
Life is too short.
It is too short not to give until we relieve the burdens of other people. Its too short not to give our time, resources, money, and most importantly our hearts to those in need of it.
Its too short not to consider adopting an orphan. Not you, you say? Why?
What is stopping you?
Why do we hesitate with needs that seem to have such an obvious answer?
There are people hurting everywhere and to you Christians, this is our calling. As long as there are people in need, we are called to help them.
We don't get to decide who is most deserving, we don't get to judge the hearts of men. We simply, plainly, need to just get on with it.
Its not supposed to be comfortable, its not supposed to be easy. And it won't be.

In regards to being ready, I have been thinking this week about just how un-ready (like that new word?) I actually was for these last two years. And my conclusion? God uses the mission He has for our lives to complete us. He "sets eternity in the hearts of men" and oh, its so beautiful. He uses the ones who have nothing to cement bonds to Him in our hearts. He uses the orphaned and abused, the poor and the weak to illustrate His love, His compassion, His joy, His unfailing love.
My soul feels good. Its the kind of good that has no other source. It can't be taught, it isn't found in a book. It comes from a range of things.
Today is was a baby finally calming down from a hysterical cry and sucking in short, quick breaths through his nose in the aftermath of the wailing while he fell asleep in my arms.
Other days its spontaneous dance parties with 7 year old Mary and nearly-2 Thembeka, the little girl who couldn't sit on her own 3 months ago and now wiggles her bum and twirls in circles to the music while squealing out of sheer joy...those kind of dance parties.
Its hearing the soft breathing and sleepy murmers of four of the most beautiful children I have ever seen sleeping in the next room from where I type.
Its crying over them just now as I watched them sleep.

Our lives are too short not to experience God's heart. They are too short not to welcome a baby in His name, one who won't get a chance without us. Why are they less worthy of a loving home then one who hasn't been born yet, or one who biologically belongs to someone? (You can see clearly my current burden)

Maybe we can start by changing our view of people, that seems simple enough (again, I am talking as much to myself as I am to anyone else)
Rather then judge the man asking for money on the corner you go past everyday, or avoid eye contact, lets start a relationship. I'm not telling you to invite him for dinner, but give him a chance to see how God feels towards him. Be the light He won't see unless you are there to bring it. Help him a little everyday, food, a few cents. Build up to a 1 minute conversation. Repeat. Maybe in two weeks, two months, two years, you'll invite him for church, or that dinner.
Go and volunteer at a nursing home or veterans hospital and imagine yourself there with no one to come and see you, let it break your heart and motivate you to show love to those there who are so deserving.
Instead of one time gifts to organizations, commit monthly to them. I know one at the moment who could use regular support, and I could tell you as well exactly where it would go.
Pray about adoption or fostering, and ask God why there is fear or hesitation surrounding a decision like that.
Lets be a physical presence to people in need, wherever we are. Let the burden and weight of the need be just that, a burden on our hearts to help them.

I'm still not well versed in the bible. I still doubt and stumble and lose motivation and wonder what I am doing. I still say "send me...but not there".
At the end of the day I am willing. I trust God, and now I know that I can only find contentment in being in the center of His will for my life.
I don't know it all, I don't know if helping the homeless dude on the corner will work. I just know not trying definitely won't, so we have to at least try.

We all have the capability to do these things inside of us, just please don't wait until you feel 'ready', life is too short to wait.

I can't help myself

More quotables from the week:

While watching a married couple join hands and walk into the mall after we dropped them off:
"Why are they holding hands"-Mary
"So they don't get seperated. Like, you know, so one doesn't go one way and the other the other way"-Jake

While handing jake his ARV meds to take in the back of the car
"Will I die if I don't take this medicine"-Jake
"You can get sick if you don't, Jake"-Me
"You'll be fine"-Mary
"No, my mom and dad didn't take this medicine and they died"-Jake

ouch. my heart.

While driving past a few women...
"Look at that girls bum with the long pants. Her bum is going chi-chaw-chi-chaw chi-chaw"-Jake

A first time for everything

As you know (or may not know, I suppose), I rarely raise my voice too loud about how I feel regarding the politics surrounding the poverty I see on a daily basis. I'm not the most informed person in the world, I've been fed the same statistics as you on just how poor the people on the continent of Africa are. I've steadied myself trying to focus on the people, the ones right in front of me, but I can't lie and say I feel a bit sad [read:mad, outraged, etc...] when I hear comments about how people in America suffer too, or the question that requires a lot of personal restraint; "Why don't you help the people in your own country instead of going to Africa?"

If that's you, if that's what you think, please come here. Please take a glimpse of the day to day reality of how these people live. Don't watch it on a TV that you can change stations and forget about it by the time the next commercial ends, don't google it and try to relate to some obscure figure of numbers aimed at horrifying its audience, numbers that get thrown on a growing pile of information that doesn't actually impact anyone.
You don't even have to come here, read a book, a blog, something a tad more personal then a 30 second clip.
Then let it lead you into action.

Here's another idea, help those people who need it right in your own backyard rather then wonder why people leave to go serve elsewhere. Whatever it takes to bring action, do that. If we all do something, we may actually have an impact on the world. If we just talk about it, well, thats plain silly.

People in the church, you will be held even more responsible. I read somewhere that God's call, His will, isn't something you hear. Its His word, its there for everyone in black and white. His will for your life is for you to serve. Period. It doesn't matter where it is, that part He'll tell you. But listen, and act. Please. Yes there are people in America and all over the world who need help, is this something that actually causes a burden on your heart? Do you cry for them? Do you help them? Or do we post another random set of numbers as our facebook status and get 20 reactions agreeing with us, leading us all to....??

I am not accusing anyone of anything, which is why I never take this stance when I post. I don't like to feel argumentative, and I suppose I could give you some background as to what is fuelling this little flame of mine. In his book, Race Against Time, Stephen Lewis gives statistics aimed at actually opening our eyes to the problem in Africa. I can't stop thinking about one in particular. I read it 3 days ago, and still, for some reason, it is my answer to the question and comments I listed above in regards to serving in Africa.

(written in 2005) "At present, the European Union and United States together subsidize their farmers to the tune of $350 billion (U.S. dollars) a year; it equals five times the amount that is ploughed into foreign aid. If I may offer an evocative juxtaposition: Every cow in the European Union is subsidized to the tune of $2 dollars a day, while between 400 million and 500 million Africans live on less than a dollar per day."
And that's families living on less then a dollar per day, by the way.

Oh, how I wish I could organize my thoughts right now, there is just too much though. I want to tell you what living on 1 dollar a day looks like. Worried about our politics? How about not having a way to even prove your identity because you don't get birth certificates when you're born in the bush. Without an identity card, you have no rights to vote. Not that it matters in a lot of the countries that are corrupt.
Worried about health care? How about waiting on the floor of a dirty emergency room with a broken arm, bone sticking out through your skin, and dying three days later because you couldn't find anyone to bring you the 10 or 20 dollars it would take to be seen by a doctor. The same doctor who walked past as your body was ravaged with infection, painfully taking your life over those three days.
Against the war? Upset for our soldiers? What about the children who are being kidnapped, drugged, forced to kill each other, all in order to desensitize them and make them into 7, 8, 9 year old killing machines. That's not just for the movies, Blood Diamond didn't make that worse then it really is. It is happening today, right now as you read.
We've all heard about the AIDS problem. Some have even been known to say its their own fault, some of us here blame traditions and unsafe sex and a host of other human conditions that lead to this crisis. As I stood in an AIDS clinic yesterday, my heart registered a whole new emotion. Yes, many peoples bad decisions led them to becoming infected, but that's not what I saw. I saw the little toddlers with their mamas waiting in the yellow chairs, the chairs in the queue designated to pediatric patients. There is an entire generation who did not choose badly, who do not deserve to inherit this growing problem. But they did.

I'm not anti-America. I'm not trying to de-merit our soldiers or make it seem like I am against my own country. If anything, honestly, I can appreciate now more than ever my country and all the good things we have. Why does it have to be one or the other, I wonder? There is corruption on both sides of the ocean. There is pain, there is joy, there is unjust death and unfair politics. The point of all of this is, regardless of anything else, is there is a need. Whether its in the Middle East, Africa, or on Boston Common, we need to answer the call that is already written. Mother Theresa said 'If you can't feed one hundred people then just feed one'. We can all do that. If you have access to a computer and you are reading this, you are better off then millions upon millions of people in this world. Find an organization who is trustworthy and already doing something you believe in. Support them, talk about them, lets inspire action instead of a few minutes of pity for people. Actually give up one of your 5 dollar coffees a day and put the money aside for a greater good. Don't just read the statistics, research them and then put yourself into the shoes of the people and ponder what it would actually be like to live a different life.

What I have learned here, and what I hope resonates in my actions in words, is that we should be thankful for what we do have. When you sit in the doctors office and flip through magazines, be thankful you have the access to health care you do. Not because there are people who don't, but just because you should be thankful for something like that. If we change our attitudes to ones of gratefulness, our actions will reflect it. Only then will we change anything.

Quotables

I hear fairly hilarious, and sometimes outrageous comments on a daily basis. Such is a life working with kids, I guess.

Not all are funny, though, and some threaten to break my heart if not for the innocence in which a question may be asked, but then for the cruelty of this world.

So here is a few of the good, bad, and somewhat sad quotes I have jotted down during the last week.



Between Jake and myself-
Me: "Jake, you have to finish your dinner, just a few more bites and you'll be done"
Jake: "My tummy hurts, I'm full"
Me: "Jake, come one, I know you're not full, you have to eat at leat a little more of that food on your plate"
Jake: "I'm fasting"


Between Simon and Tazz-

Tazz: "Simon, you must finish your dinner, don't you know there are starving people right outside?"


Myself and Mary:
Mary: "Suzy, where were you born?"
Me: "In Winchester Hospital"
Mary: "Who found you?"
This is the one that breaks my heart, if you didn't already figure it out. Sweet little Mary.


Some random guy who pulled up next to us in a gas station when we were lost, apparently in a rough area (?)

Random guy: "You two ok?"
Michiel and I: "yup!"
Random guy: "Where are you going?"
Michiel and I answered
Random guy: "Where are you from?"
Another answer...
Random guy: "you sure you're ok?"
Michiel "yes, why?"
Random guy: "Usually whites don't come out this way unless they have guns"
Michiel: "oh, ok. Thanks!"


Same trip at the gas station and I was let in behind a locked gate where the register wass to use the bathroom (after getting slightly harrassed by the public toilets outside and deciding not to invite more by actually waiting outside of them) Just before this stop I had been directing us, unsucessfully, on our way to where we were going (no map, bad street names, and a list of other perfectly good excuses as to why we got lost. Certainly none of them had anything to do with me and my great navigation skills). Michiel naturally took the stance that his (lengthy) directions that took him a lot of time weren't to blame either. I'm sure no one reading can relate, right? This wasn't the first time we were lost together. Its Africa, afterall. A continent bent on proving Murphy's Law when one is trying to travel through.
As I came out of the bathroom and waited for the woman at the register to get the right key, Michiel waited for me on the other side with an old man who had limited teeth and seemingly even more limited understanding of Michiel's humor.
Michiel: "You want her? I'll give you a good price"(Don't forget I am standing next to the register)
*confused look*
Michiel: "Really, she is a good woman, and she can cook"
*smile*
Michiel: "And she's great at reading directions!"


Grandpa Len: "They put up new pillars near the new building"
Mary: "No, they're bricks"
G. Len: "No, Pillars"
Mary: "No, bricks"
Jake: "Grandpa Len is right, they're pills"



Me: "Jake, you have to take a bath, you're first on the list tonight"
Jake: "But I don't want to go first, why di I have to go first?"
Me: "You were last yesterday so its only fair. Come on, bath time"
Jake: "You know, I'm just not a bathing man"



"What soap is to the body, laughter is to the soul" -Yiddish Proverb