Grace, Redux.

Rain makes for a cranky ankle (four healed breaks, two titanium screws, and the inevitable arthritis).  That makes for a cranky Auntie J.

This morning was no real exception.

I finally get the twins and their bedding downstairs (figuring it was overdue for a wash), have them pick out cereal, and get them set to eat...only to have them fight over who is going to pray.

Medium Fry insists that she's going to pray for everybody's food.

Small Fry has a conniption, because she wants to pray for everybody's food, too.

I call a halt to the debate, and pronounce judgment.

They can both pray for all the food.

Medium goes first.  "Deawr Hebbenlee Faddewr, please help my sins to gwrow, an' my muscles, so I can gwrow big an' stwrong.  An' da food."

I sure hope God got as big a laugh out of that one as the one I had to muffle.