Sunday morning. (Relatively) quiet. I was sitting on the family room couch, brainstorming New Year's goals and enjoying the peaceful reverence that we try to encourage in our home on the Sabbath day, when I heard an odd rumbling sound coming from the kitchen. As I watched, a loud vehicle crept ominously around the corner, heading in my direction. Through the hallway...down the step...across the carpet, straight toward me....
It stopped in the middle of the floor,
aimed its machine gun...
and fired.
All this, and not a driver in sight.
(This is what happens when you let Daddy do the Christmas shopping.)
The invading nation.
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