One of Jeff's former bosses (who moved on from seminary administration to university administration), has been helping out at our parish by saying Mass on Friday and Saturday mornings. We decided we should invite the friendly monsignor to breakfast, since he's in our neighborhood anyway.
We do a lot of hosting, and of course the one thing we can never be sure of is how the kids will behave. I mean, we know they'll be themselves, which means they'll act like kids and likely keep us on our toes and possibly embarrass us (like the time back in Dayton that Maia decided to show of her new potty-training skills by bringing her potty-seat out into the living room and urinating in front of one of our guests).
This visit was fairly uneventful. Decent food, good conversation, and then, as the monsignor was taking his leave, he said goodbye to each of the girls. "Eva, it was nice to meet you! Thank you for having me over for breakfast," he said.
"GOODBYE, POOPY!" she yelled, so clearly it could not be misinterpreted.