A good weekend

Dave took off work on Friday and finally had his Bachelor-Party-Weekend that he couldn't have before we got married because of his Achilles. He and his friends went down to the beach house, golfed, went crabbing, and had an all-around great time. He got back this afternoon and we took Pixie to the dog park at his suggestion (I'm always hestitant to because of her past extremely ill behavior in regard to some dogs) but she was an angel and we all enjoyed ourselves and the wonderful weather immensely.

Last night I hung out with our friends, whose two little boys excitedly showed me some fireworks they'd bought with their own money. They decided to save two of them so the fun could continue another night too. After reading them some stories and getting ready for bed, it was time for prayers. Their dad told five-year-old Sam he had to say the prayer. Sam said he would, but his dad needed to leave and shut the door first. Once his dad did and couldn't hear him, Sam asked, "Actually, will you say the prayer?"

After I did, Sam looked at me innocently from underneath his long eyelashes and said there was one more thing that we needed to pray about, and could he do it?

"Sure," I said, wondering what I'd forgotten. He and his three-year-old brother closed their eyes and folded their arms again.

"Dear Heavenly Father," Sam began very seriously. "We're thankful for our fireworks. And please bless that they don't get stealed. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen."