Church is an adventure every Sunday. It really is. It's a time for renewal and reflection as we give the first morning of the new week to the Lord. I mean, He does deserve the attention, much more than we show, but it also a time of testing for our children. How will they behave? Will they get along with other kids? Be polite? Tell someone when they need to use the bathroom?? For one hour a week, we put utter faith that all the teachable moments at home have stuck with them and they will shine for a little while in front of others.
Then there was last Sunday. As we are getting ready to take the kids to their classes, I'm helping Aaron put his shoes on. They get time on the indoor playground before class and I make them remove their shoes so they don't kick each other or someone else's kid in the face. Well, me being the princess of grace that I am, ended up knocking the boy to his arse when I tugged on his laces to tight and he fell back, off balance. He was mortified. So, I help him up, dust him off, and finish with the laces. As I'm gathering up the diaper bag and a gazillion other things that have to go with the kids to their classes, he proceeds to tug his pants down to show the world his bottom.
"You ruined my bottom," he practically hissed, showing me his now red from impact butt.
I could already feel the stares as parents filed passed. Eh, nothing new with our family.
"I'm sorry," I apologize through barely muffled giggles, pulling his pants back up. My lack of self control causes further humiliation for the boy.
"Mom, you are so bent," he growls.
Oh, if he only knew. :p
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