Inge has a new game with which to while away the hours. Yesterday afternoon I heard a great banging proceeding from the playroom–a banging that sounded like someone short hitting a mirror with toys. Oddly enough, this is exactly what it was. Inge was parked in front of the lowdown mirror, and was banging on it with all her might and main–and also with a plastic knife. She was also shouting into it with some vehemence. Her elaboration to me was as follows, having lost none of the original emphasis:

“We are shouting at the bad guys, and very displeasedly, and telling them they may only–eat–fur. And napkins. And…and….sheep. And they are minerals. And I am telling them that they may NOT WORSHIP IDOLS! And [by way of explanation about the plastic knife] I am chopping them up with my sword, and Lewis is chopping them up with his knife [plastic saw]. So, we’re going to be good parents when we grow up.”

But I’m not so sure about this, myself, especially not about Lewis’s qualifications, because a short while later this doozy came shooting down the pike: Inge traipsed through the kitchen, her big shirt proclaiming her intention of becoming a parent. Soon.

“I’ve got three babies in my tummy,” she mentioned calmly. “I’m going to have them right now, Lewis. Please go get the birth tub.”

But the garbage truck was going by just then, and Lewis was busy with more important things. “Um, not right now,” he muttered, whereupon Inge showed her mettle and had the babies anyway.

It is worthy of postscriptive note that the bad guys Inge had dealt with in the morning were finished off in proper new covenant style, in that she avowedly took their blood, and turned it into angels. I took this as a sort of metaphor for conversion.