Sunday mornings, don't you just love them? Ours' at the Wiltbank home are rough and hectic. However hard I try to be prepared, you know the song "Saturday is a special day it's the day we get ready for Sunday" I have 2 saboteur's...Brayden and Jaxten. On Saturday I ask the boys "Did you put your Sunday clothes in the hamper from last week? Cuz I don't think I wash them." I hear nothing but crickets. So what am I to think? Okay, don't worry about it. So we get up on Sunday and first thing both boys say "Mom I can't find my clothes." Me..."oh come on, I asked you yesterday if you had them." Brayden comes in with a ball of wrinkled clothes and says he found them under his bed. (Big Surprise) Jaxten goes into that ugly whine and says he can't find anything. We find his clothes mixed in with Landon's behind ONE shirt. How hard is it to lOOk? Then it's the belt and next the tie that was left in the car from the LAST Sunday. (Good Grief) It just seems to be one of THOSE Sundays. Bart and Brayden leave early so Brayden can do his assignment to get ready for Sacrament meeting and Jaxten and I have to drive Landon's pick-up because he has my car. I'm hurrying and can't figure out how to move Landon's seat forward so I'm pushing the gas peddle with my tippy toes. We walk in the church just as they're shutting the Chapel doors. I scan each row to find my husband's loving bald head. Can't see it anywhere. I look towards the front of the Chapel and there he sits...allllll the wayyy in the front. So here I go dragging Jaxten behind me trying to look put together and hoping I don't have my skirt tucked into my pantyhose and mooning everyone as I go (I think those weird thoughts when I feel hurried). So I sit and listen to the welcome and introductions and they announce the opening prayer will be by ME! I thought I was the closing prayer so I was glad I made it on time. I say the prayer and (is it wrong to say uhm during a prayer?) sit down. That's when Jaxten starts in on me. He has to go through my purse, plays with his gum, unzips my boots. He starts his gripes about being hungry, tired, thirsty. He decides that I'm the jungle gym and sits, lays, rolls on me. I am out of patients and turn to Bart and say "I feel like I've been holding a bag of monkey's"
Then it's all over 3 hours later. Time to head home and nap. The truck feels kind of strange, no power. What did I do to it? I look down and the gas gage is on the big red E! Thank goodness Bart comes driving up. Don't you just wish you were there or maybe you had that kind of Sunday too. Boy was my nap long and good!!
2 comments:
Every Sunday is that kind of sunday for us. I have two very unwilling...strike that...three bodies that move in ultra slow motion until we are late...again. I HATE being late. I used to argue with Ralph about sitting in the back, but it is much easier to slink in behind everyone else. Maybe someday?????????
Cute Rachel!
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