Signs You Live With a PK

I did not become a PK or preacher's kid until my college years so I only have a life experience from then until now.  My daughter however has only known life as a PK.  Frankly, I am not even sure she knows what that means.

There is a staggering amount of evidence that being the daughter of a preacher has impacted her life though.  Here are a few examples.

She is the only kid on our block who "breaks" her bread sticks, sandwiches, and/or garlic bread by holding it up in the air... brief pause...(as if saying the Words of Institution for the Lord's Supper) and then dramatically breaks the bread showing everyone around the table her bread is now broken.  Enacting Holy Communion at the supper or lunch table is truly a sign of being a preacher's kid.

My daughter is the only child on her bus who carries her purple picture Bible with her. She decided recently that she needed to do some reading on the bus.  I suggested she choose a book from her shelf.  Immediately she flew into her room and grabbed (then hugged) her purple Bible to her chest.  I really had nothing to do with it.

Yes, it was my child who announced to her fellow preschool students at our church's preschool one day when she was four years old, "My Momma runs this place.  (whispering) She has a key to every room!"

Last weekend while I did a seven hour stint of scrap booking mania (I am almost caught up).  I set my daughter up with her own crafting table: glue, glitter, tape, markers, paper, etc.  After creating a wild variety of tactile art pictures, she created a building.  Actually, she built a church.  Mind you, this was not prompted by me because I was buried under piles of photos and mementos for her scrapbooks.

Diana's church building only had three rooms.  As she gave me the grand tour, the theologian in me puffed up with pride at her Trinitarian approach to church construction.  My moment of pride was quickly dashed when she announced, "And this room is for Sunday School.  See the picture of the rainbow and Noah?  And this room is for all that singing and talking (i.e. worship)."

"Diana, what is in this third room?"

"Oh, Momma (eyes big and touches my arm gently as if to emphasize the significance of her next words), this is the Donut Room."

Really?!  Seriously?!  The take-away my kid gets from being a PK is that every church needs a donut room?