I decided my new niece and nephew needed to take communion as soon after entering the United States as possible.  All of us (Brian’s family and mine) caravanned our way to Chick-fil-A yesterday to consume some Christian chicken: our first meal together, by the way, as a family of 13.  It was quite the gathering.

We took up a large chunk of the dining room and dominated the playland.  The kids played “airline” which meant that a couple kids patted down anyone desiring to climb the equipment, a couple tore invisible tickets, a couple flew the plane and a couple feigned sleep – like you do when drugged for a long flight across the ocean.  The oldest sat the whole thing out.

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We’ve also discussed starting our own sports franchise, a farm, or our very own school district.  The possibilities are endless.

Last night we all got together again at Brian’s house.  My kids’ job was to play with their cousins so they wouldn’t fall asleep – they’re still a little jetlagged/whiny but it’s nothing a little sword fight and Michael Jackson dance-a-thon wasn’t able to remedy.

I’m sure the newness of the adoption will wear off, the dancing will slow down and Chick-fil-A will just be that place Uncle Shaun eats at three times a week.  But for now, while it lasts, our kids are having a blast with their new friends…and learning how to say banana poop in Amharic.  It’s moocaca, in case you have use for such a vocabulary expansion today.

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I’m heading to St.Paul, Minnesota to speak to the students at Northwestern about Compassion International.  I’ll twitter when I can and let you know how it goes.

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