Every Sunday night, Bryant, the children, and I meet up around the kitchen table. And for what purpose? “Family Home Evening”.
We align our schedules.
We pass off whatever poem, quote, or scripture the children were memorizing that week.
We give the children what moneys they had earned from doing their chores, and perpetuate a system of budgeting. .25 to the Lord. .25 to a chosen charity. .50 to the “gift jar”. .75 into their piggy banks for long-term savings. And .75 into their wallets for spending.
And then we close with a child-taught lesson. This week E was in charge of said lesson. She thought it mandatory to teach our boys First Aid. As my father is a doctor and my mother is a nurse, E had each child write down any First Aid questions they had buzzing around in their little heads, and then we Skyped Grampa and Gramma in search of bona-fide answers.
Questions from E:
How do you take care of a wound that has become infected?
How do you know if your wound is infected?
Should I be worried if my wound is infected?
Question from J:
What if you break your arm and your leg at the same time?
Comment from L:
I want to send you a dragon in the post. Wait for a dragon in the post.
Well, clear and concise answers were given, and the children trusted each, implicitly. The dragon got in the post. We memorized “911” in case an arm and a leg were to break simultaneously. And all bodily wounds that could possibly get infected were cared for with a good washing in the tub, a dab of ointment, and a plaster.