This semester Aaron has started attending a local nursery school. It's run by some Catholic nuns and most young children in our neighborhood attend school there. It's called "Saint Vincent de Paul" and it's about 100 yards from our gate. There are several great things about Aaron going to school there. It gives us some common ground with our neighbors, he's friends with neighborhood children (I'm telling you, he's our best missionary--everyone around here knows Aaron), and best of all--he's learning to speak Kinyarwandan! A teammate's 3 year old daughter also attends school there, so he started out with a friend.
Most of the teachers there speak some English, so even though communication is difficult, it's not impossible. That being said, here's the scenario from Friday:
The phone rings. It's the Headmistress. This is already cause for concern...
Nun: Aaron must come to get his cart.
Me: His what?
Nun: His card. He wanted it very much and we told him he could have it after school.
Me (now really confused): His card?
Nun: Yes, yes. He cried for it. He must come now if he wants it.
Me: Ok, I will send him.
It was hot that day, and I had already had my second shower of the day, so I sent Madelyn up the hill with Aaron. (maybe my first mistake?) It was his birthday, so I was guessing it was:
A. A card they made
B. A cart, like a toy?
Wrong!...
It was a cat.
A kitten to be exact.
You didn't know "cat" was pronounced "cart," did you?
