A trip down memory lane

Brazil is a Catholic country and 99% of the children in my school came from Catholic families, mainly of Italian origin. Our family didn't embrace any religion and thoughts about faith had never entered my young mind.

I was a typical tomboy, playing football (soccer) with the boys, climbing anything I could find and getting into trouble quite regularly.

When I was in the first year of primary school I was chosen to be an angel. Yes, an angel...

The children in the year above were ready for their First Communion and the lines of children were led by angels: one for the boys, one for the girls and one little angel walked in the middle. The little one was still in pre-school and her name was Daisy. The teacher in charge of the First Communion came to my class and selected a blonde girl called Ana Maria and... yours truly. My teacher went into a mild panic because she knew I didn't fit the role very well, quite the opposite. But the other teacher insisted on her choice and that was that.

A few weeks of rehearsals ensued and the priest (Father Miguel) was horrified at the sight of an angel brawling with the boys in the middle of the aisle. They called me matchstick angel and I didn't like it, that's all. The pre-school angel also got on my nerves because she kept going on and on and on about her gown, how much nicer it was because of the stars on the yoke and on the hem, while Ana Maria's and mine were rather plain.

The big day arrived and Father Miguel, the teachers, and I suspect also my parents, were worried in case I turned the whole thing upside-down. I didn't. I behaved really well during the actual event.

The trouble started at the party after the ceremony. Daisy was still making a big thing of her gown full of stars, so I tipped a cup of chocolate on her lap. She had to change into normal clothes and finally shut up!

I think they all learned not to mess with this angel...

Mothers

I've been collecting photos on this theme for a while now. I find them very touching...

Cute!

Children and their pets

Grammy97 sent me these heartwarming pictures. We've seen some of them before, but it doesn't matter how many times we see them, it's impossible not to go aww all over again!

Thank you, Grammy.

The candy with a hole

This story came from Mrsgunka:

A teacher passed a pack of LifeSavers around the classroom and asked the children to pair the colors with the flavors:

Red = Cherry
Yellow = Lemon
Orange = Orange
Green = Lime

She then handed out some honey flavored ones and the children couldn't identify the taste.

"I'll give you a clue," said the teacher. "It's what your mom sometimes calls your dad."

One little girl looked up in horror, spat out the sweet and yelled, "Eww, they're assholes!"

Good one, Mrsgunka, thank you!

Children and art

I love to see children expressing themselves freely!

It beats sitting in front of the TV or playing video games...

Oh my gosh

The woman explains:

Mommy was not feeling well and had to stay in the bathroom longer than usual during which my two boys, ages 1 and 3 took my new bag of flour out of the cupboard and destroyed my house. This is from ONE 5lb bag. Don't believe me? Hand a full bag to a 3 year old and see what happens.

Children...

Many years ago our boys were invited to pose for a Dorling Kindersley catalogue and earned the princely amount of £30 each. Their school days bring back many memories...

When Paul (on the right) was about eight years old, he made his teacher laugh with something he wrote. They were learning words ending in "ight" and had to make sentences using them. Paul wrote:

"My mom and dad never fight."
"My mom is always right."

Isn't that just adorable?

Billy, on the other hand, used to alarm his teachers (and us). I was called to the school many times because Billy had banged his head doing something daring and had to be taken to hospital for a check. Concussion was a regular ocurrence.

He managed to get into some kind of trouble very often. In Brazil, when he was eleven, he managed to go through the roof of a milking shed. He wasn't injured, but very shaken. Then he made a ramp for bike stunts and tried it with a bike that had slightly flat tyres. Following an almighty tumble, we had to rush him to hospital with an enormous gash on his thigh. While he was being stitched, with all of us in the room, the nurses had to abandon Billy to see to Paul, who had passed out.

When they were teenagers, back in England, they came across a baseball bat and decided to go to a local park for a practice. Baseball is not an English game, so they didn't have much of a clue. The practice didn't last very long. While swinging the bat, Paul cracked Billy's forehead open. More stitches...

The pub where Paul worked

A few years later, Paul was working at a nearby pub and used to ride his bike to work. I received a phone call from his cellphone, but from a stranger. Paul had a close encounter with a tree and this kind stranger had stopped to help. My car was in for some repairs, so I grabbed my first aid kit and rushed to the spot on foot. When I arrived, completely breathless, there was an ambulance. Paul had injured his elbow and a devastatingly handsome paramedic greeted me with a laugh: "Good job you brought your first aid kit, we didn't have one!" I didn't know the stranger had called an ambulance, but the humour was very reassuring. Paul had a fractured elbow, but was otherwise OK.

There are many other stories, not all of them about disasters. They will have to wait for another post...