Monday, June 27, 2011

Public Humiliation

Alright people. Things are about to get real.

Statistics show that with the increase of our household, there are 3.497 non-morning people abiding together in our home.

Generally we’ve learned to adapt to this fact of life and work around the malady. Unfortunately for Sundays, we don’t have our act completely polished yet. As, our entire congregation had witness a few weeks ago.
We had woken up late, yet somehow managed to arrive at church TWO WHOLE MINUTES before Sunday school. I fleetingly wondered how we had managed to shave off so much time, as we hustled to our seats.

We got all the way through Sunday school, and through the song service, when my stomach became an angry bi-polar storm. My eyes flew open in horror as I realized the secret to our punctuality- We hadn’t eaten breakfast. On cue Alex poked me. “I’m hungry” he pantomimed. I passed Spain off to the sweet husband and started riffling through the diaper bag while praying Please let there be snacks in here! . A single serve tube of peanuts sparkled at me from the bottom of the diaper bag. It was beautiful. Normally I would have made him wait until after the service, but I FORGOT to feed the poor child. I wasn’t going to make him wait it out.

I ripped a corner off the bag and handed the peanuts to Alex, and settled back in my seat thanking the Lord for that divine bag of legumes. At this point I have to interject and really set the scene here. We decided to sit in the balcony this particular Sunday. Unlike the rest of the sanctuary, our balcony is uncarpeted. And a there is slight echo for every sound made.

My revelry was interrupted by the crashing sound of legumes exploding over the balcony. Alex had tried to widen the hole in the bag, and the entire tube split in half, sending peanuts shooting out from between his hands like confetti. Have you ever heard a bag of marbles being dropped on a floor? Fun Fact #19: peanuts scattered along wooden floors and benches, in an echo-friendly area, sounds quite similar.

Of course the balcony had a large crowd that week. Six heads simultaneously turned to Alex, who sat in his seat with an impish grin on his face, holding the incriminating, tattered remains of the peanut tube. All I have to say is: THANK YOU GOD peanuts are easy to clean off of a wood floor.

From now on we may be late to church, but Alex will be feasting on three-course breakfasts.

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