Crickets on the menu for today

People probably don't believe half the stories I tell about Elisabeth.  I am almost glad that yesterday one of our sweet youth got to witness the hair pulling, back biting (literal), clothes tugging, children chasing terror spree that Elisabeth went on at the Chick-Fila play place yesterday.  I just looked at Madison and said, "I'm glad you saw this so you know I don't make this stuff up!" 

So before I start my "you won't believe it unless you were there" stories, let me just say that it is perfectly acceptable to eat crickets in Thailand.  Several years ago, Chris and I went on a mission trip to Thailand that was one of the best experiences of our life.  To immerse ourselves in their culture (and come back with a really great story to tell our kids) we snacked on crickets that were being sold at the night time market. I just closed my eyes, plugged my nose, and tried really hard to ignore the crunching sound that was going on in my mouth.

The crickets we ate literally came from this pile right here.

The purpose of our mission trip was to go into the schools and teach them English, which would eventually lead to telling them about Jesus.  As I was teaching English words for food using pictures (I had an interpreter with me) I would ask them what their favorite food was.  In almost every school, at least a couple of children would say "crickets!"

I am really trying to keep a straight face when they tell me their favorite food is crickets and they point to a picture of a boy and call him "sister."  Precious kids.  Just looking through these pictures makes me want to hop on a plane and go back tomorrow.

Elisabeth would fare very well over in Thailand.  In fact, she would fit right in.  A few nights ago I could tell she was chewing up something she shouldn't.  I told her to "spit it out."  That is actually the one command she understands and follows quite well.  She starts spitting out pieces of something that I couldn't quite figure out what it was.  Until 5 minutes later.  We are all sitting in the living room and a cricket jumps across the floor.  She spots it, crawls like lightening speed towards it and catches it!  We get it from her and then start to look at the brown little bits still in her drool on her chin.  Then I remember the deceased little cricket I saw by the dishwasher earlier.  The dead little guy was no longer there and I seriously doubted he was raised like Lazareth from the dead.  Then it was like slow motion from a movie when we all realized at the same time what the brown little bits in E's drool was.  "NOOOoooooo....oh my gosh she just ate a cricket!" 

I'm keeping this story for when she's called to the mission field one day.  I'm gonna tell her, "Honey, God started preparing you for this when you were 11 months old.  You are gonna adjust to that culture better than you know..."