We practice praying as a family. Sometimes we have our kids repeat the Lord's Prayer after us. Sometimes we go around in a circle and say one thing we're thankful for and one thing we need. Last night was a freestyle night.

William started out prostrate, and his prayer was something like, "Mandoobo, cannallooloo, pen!"

"William," I said, "if you aren't going to pray using real words, then don't pray."

He soon decided that he'd rather play with the laundry basket than pray under those constraints. "May I take the laundry basket into the hallway and climb inside it?" He asked. (This is not a child who has trouble coming up with real words.) And off he went.

Penny looked at me. "Your turn," she said.

So I prayed, Peter prayed, and then we turned to her.

She squeezed her eyes shut, tucked in her chin, and said, "Thank you for every people in our lives. Thank you for our family. And help us be kind to each other at the ballet becital. Becital?"

I met her eye. "Recital."

"Oh, recital. And the cow jumped over the moon. And three little bears sitting on chairs." (Giggle) "And a hat."

Peter and I shared a bit of a sigh and he said, "Penny, do you think God likes jokes?"

"Yes," she replied. William was back in the room by now, inside the laundry basket. And we all laughed together. I suspect God accepted our prayers with pleasure.