As we were cleaning up the kitchen after supper tonight, John mentioned that I should write down all the dosage intructions for Tylenol, Motrin, etc. for our four youngest who've been running fevers, in case they need anything while I'm at work tomorrow. (It's already written in the medicine cabinet, so I told him to just call me at work with any questions.) He went on to say that he told some young coworkers recently that they "should meet a good woman who happens to be a nurse, so they won't have to worry about what to do with sick kids." He said he was going to teach his boys the same thing some day. I gave him a sideways glance as I continued sweeping the floor, and suggested it might be better to teach his sons to think for themselves, so that they would know how to dose their kids with tylenol while their wives are at work. (hint, hint) Encourage self-sufficiency and all. He laughed, "Nah, they'll have a good parish secretary to do their thinking for them." (alluding to the idea that they'll be called to a priestly vocation someday.)
He went on to jab that perhaps a certain priest's blog that I read frequently isn't even really written by said priest, but just his genious secretary in disguise. "Blog about that!" he laughed. And so I did.
