February 10th, 2016
Jim suddenly heard a lot of giggles from the next room. He was supposed to be ‘listening for problems' while Pam was busy upstairs, and that much giggling usually meant there was a problem. He pushed away from the computer and arrived in the kitchen to a strange scene. The baby was sitting in his Exersaucer with five-year-old Laura standing next to him. Both of their faces were scattered with little black crosses; Laura was holding a black Sharpie.
"Laura Halpert! Did Joey mark you up?" Jim teased, grabbing the camera from the shelf.
"No, Daddy! I did it! Me and Joey wanna be catlicks!" said Laura, proudly.
Jim burst into laughter and called out to his wife. "Pam, come see what Laura's done." He turned back to Laura, "Honey, don't let Joey get the Sharpie. Stand still, though, and let me take a picture."
"Laura Halpert!" cried Pam as she came into the room. "What were you thinking, sweetie?"
"Me and Joey wanna be catlicks! Like we saw today. You said they didn't have to wash their faces, so that's what we wanna be."
"Catholics, not catlicks, honey. And it's just for today. Most days they need to wash their faces, like everybody else." Pam looked at her husband in exasperation, unsure of whether to try to explain Ash Wednesday to her daughter, or to just let it slide. Jim just laughed as he put the camera away. He brought over a wet cloth and tried to get the Sharpie off Joey's face with one hand while gently tickling his neck with the other hand, causing the little boy to giggle.
"No, Daddy! Don't wash it!" Laura yelled. "It's still today!"
Pam smiled. "You guys are going to have a bath tonight, anyway, Laura. But don't worry -- it takes more than one bath to get permanent marker off."
Laura beamed. "Good! Then I'll still have it for school tomorrow."
"You sure will," Pam said, resigned to at least a day or two of seeing her children's faces marked with faded crosses. "But try to remember we're Presbyterian, okay?"
"I'll remember every time I see my clean face, Mommy," Laura said sadly.
Pam looked at Jim, shaking her head.
"Don't look at me," he said. "You're the one who wants us all to go to church on Sundays -- religious training is your department."
"And what exactly is your department?" Pam teased.
"I'm glad you asked, Pam," Jim replied with a smile. "My department is," he paused to grab the black permanent marker that was sticking out from Laura's pocket and held it up for Pam to see. "My department is Sharpie Patrol."