like white on rice

we have two nativity sets: a beautiful fontanini one that i received piece by piece from my mother over about a decade's worth of christmases, and a fisher price one that i bought at target when liam was two.  my beautiful one has a special spot in our newly renovated house, but the fisher price one is just as accessible in the family room, as it is still a favorite toy of the kids.  (this thing has been such a hit that i actually wrote about it twice in 2008:  here and here.  it's the gift that keeps on giving.)  so you can imagine that susanna was chomping at the bit to get her hands on it as soon as we started hauling all of our christmas decorations into the house from storage last weekend.   but as soon as she opened the box, she quickly informed me that many of the figurines were dirty.

i started to handwash each one at the kitchen sink, but then my eyes fell on the almost-full, soon-to-be-started dishwasher.  (really, is there any other state of a dishwasher, than almost-full and soon-to-be-started?)  jackpot!  "i'll just stick all of these little people in the top shelf and they'll be clean and pristine in no time," i shared with susanna, really patting myself on the back for this stroke of brilliance.

at least, it seemed brilliant at the time.  it wasn't until i removed them from the dishwasher a few hours later that i realized all these little people have small holes on their undersides (please, no comment about that) and had all filled with water.  moving them around the manger scene made them all sound like they were bellying up to the bar for another round -- and worse than the sloshing sound was the concern that they'd begin to leak onto the piece of furniture they're adorning for the next month or so.  drying these suckers out was a priority.

but how?  you can't squeeze them.  you can't open them.  pounding them into a towel in your hand results only in a small warm trickle.  [i promise -- i had no idea how this would sound when i began to write this post.]  at a loss, i suggested to susanna that she consult chris for a suggestion, before i headed out to the grocery.

i returned to find this.

"that's what you're supposed to do with your cell phone if it ever gets wet -- soak it in a bowl of rice," chris explained.  made perfect sense to me

so there you have it: a two inch-high plastic mary staring out from a clear organic basmati rice container.  not exactly what God had in mind, i'm sure.  but when i started to reflect on the whole scenario, i was struck by how true-to-life this actually is.  because isn't this just like mary?  in the midst of unspeakable conditions -- uncomfortable, pregnant, and in unfamiliar surroundings -- she still manages to have a serene smile on her face.