Ass Tuesday

It was around late February or early March in 2019
I picked C2 up from preschool.  He was in the 4's class at St Thomas ELC.
On the drive home he told me a story that went like this...
"I got ass on my hand today and when I pulled my hand in my coat it was gone."

Me: GRASS???  Are you talking about grass?
C2: No. Not grass.
Me: Did you find "ICE" on the play ground baby???
C2: NO! I DIDN'T SAY ICE!!!

I could tell that he was getting frustrated and that I wasn't going to figure it out so I left it alone for the remainder of our drive home.  When we got home I immediately asked him to tell Daddy the story about the "stuff on his hand".  Then I nudged Brad and asked him to listen extremely carefully because I can't figure it out (and might I add, it doesn't sound good!).

C2: Daddy! I got *ass* on my hand today and then it disappeared.

I am in tears at this point.  My wheels are turning, trying to make sense of it all.  Brad is asking questions. C2 is getting more frustrated at why we can't understand what he is talking about. 

And then, he FINALLY says, "Pastor Angela put black *ass* on my hand today!"

OHHHH!!!!
Pastor Angela!!!
Chapel Time!!!
Of COURSE!  It's technically Mardi Gras, but you won't be at school tomorrow, Wednesday, so I bet y'all had an ASH Wednesday service today.  Case solved!  ;)

I hope that I remember this story EVERY Ash Wednesday!