The Sabbath Day dawned glorious. Little son crawled into bed with me upon hearing the garage door shutting, signifying that the husband had left for early morning meetings, and knowing that the spot to my left had been vacated. Little son was confident he could occupy that space and excel at launching leg and limb into my side and face. He did a grand job. I was glad to have him as a barnacle for the last 30 minutes of my heretofore peaceful slumber.
As I readied myself and the children for church, I was ecstatic to find that my hair was behaving wonderfully and even found myself gazing blissfully into the looking glass, realizing that this could be that often elusive "good hair day." The planets had aligned. It was a good hair day. I was even able to tease my bangs into submission, sweeping them to the side and securing them with just the perfect amount of hairspray- ensuring that they would stay put and leave my eyes alone on this day- something that HARDLY EVER HAPPENS. What more can one ask for?
I skipped triumphantly down the stairs and herded the children into their proper positions in the car, escorted the canine to her kennel and pulled out of the driveway- ready for spiritual feasting.
We arrived at church on time- even early- and took our places, listening to the prelude music and greeting our fellow ward members. Still beaming from the pride I felt in my most cooperative tresses, I scooped little son up onto my lap as the services began. No sooner had I done this then little son, as if in slow motion, raised his arm and balled his little fist, directing it towards my bangs. His fist of doom performed a noogie right there on my perfectly coiffed bangs, separating the web of hairspray so delicately applied not even an hour before. Noooooooooooooooooo! (uttered in slow motion) Oh, the horror! Immediately those bangs sagged into my eyes. And for the rest of the church services I was compelled to move them to the side, over and over, using my hand or, alternately, the side head shake that would perform the task when my hands were occupied with essential tasks such as folding paper fans out of the program or peeling the paper from the tips of well-used crayons.
I resigned myself to a bang-in-the-eye meeting and continued listening to the speaker. Soon little son tired of being perched on my lap and slid down- and in the process, the Velcro (did you know Velcro must be captitalized? It must, according to the spell checker.) on the pocket of his pants caught on my skirt and pulled a little village of threads loose, thus blurring the floral arrangement pattern as multiple threads slid out of place and hung suspended from their original position in the weave of my raiment. Oh, how I don't love it when that happens.
Soon I was able to usher the children to Primary and nursery classes and the rest of the meetings proceeded without incident.
I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that we should all wear sweats and baseball caps to church meetings in order to protect ourselves from our children. Will someone second this motion?
In other news: I am feeling the beginnings of a newly ingrown toenail- the big toe on my left foot. The toe just to the right of the toe that had issues last month. So, you know the drill, I need proper sympathy and attention for help and healing of this malady.
As I readied myself and the children for church, I was ecstatic to find that my hair was behaving wonderfully and even found myself gazing blissfully into the looking glass, realizing that this could be that often elusive "good hair day." The planets had aligned. It was a good hair day. I was even able to tease my bangs into submission, sweeping them to the side and securing them with just the perfect amount of hairspray- ensuring that they would stay put and leave my eyes alone on this day- something that HARDLY EVER HAPPENS. What more can one ask for?
I skipped triumphantly down the stairs and herded the children into their proper positions in the car, escorted the canine to her kennel and pulled out of the driveway- ready for spiritual feasting.
We arrived at church on time- even early- and took our places, listening to the prelude music and greeting our fellow ward members. Still beaming from the pride I felt in my most cooperative tresses, I scooped little son up onto my lap as the services began. No sooner had I done this then little son, as if in slow motion, raised his arm and balled his little fist, directing it towards my bangs. His fist of doom performed a noogie right there on my perfectly coiffed bangs, separating the web of hairspray so delicately applied not even an hour before. Noooooooooooooooooo! (uttered in slow motion) Oh, the horror! Immediately those bangs sagged into my eyes. And for the rest of the church services I was compelled to move them to the side, over and over, using my hand or, alternately, the side head shake that would perform the task when my hands were occupied with essential tasks such as folding paper fans out of the program or peeling the paper from the tips of well-used crayons.
I resigned myself to a bang-in-the-eye meeting and continued listening to the speaker. Soon little son tired of being perched on my lap and slid down- and in the process, the Velcro (did you know Velcro must be captitalized? It must, according to the spell checker.) on the pocket of his pants caught on my skirt and pulled a little village of threads loose, thus blurring the floral arrangement pattern as multiple threads slid out of place and hung suspended from their original position in the weave of my raiment. Oh, how I don't love it when that happens.
Soon I was able to usher the children to Primary and nursery classes and the rest of the meetings proceeded without incident.
I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that we should all wear sweats and baseball caps to church meetings in order to protect ourselves from our children. Will someone second this motion?
In other news: I am feeling the beginnings of a newly ingrown toenail- the big toe on my left foot. The toe just to the right of the toe that had issues last month. So, you know the drill, I need proper sympathy and attention for help and healing of this malady.
My wish for you this day is perfectly formed and hairsprayed bangs (if you have any), skirts without blemish and toes with nails that know where they may grow and stay away from where they may not.
