23 February 2014

Sunday, Blessed Sunday

"Get dressed, children."

"I am dressed, Mom." 

"Not in your play clothes, Henry, your church clothes. Grace, you cannot wear that shirt under that sweater dress. I can see the pattern of flowers. Henry, you cannot do anything fun or entertaining until you are dressed, even in your Sunday shoes!" 

5 minutes later:

"I am dressed. Now can I watch a show?"
"No, I said even down to your shoes. And socks!"

10 minutes later:

"Can you tie my shoes."

Fight, fight, fight, eat, eat, eat, spill on Sunday clothes, nag, nag, nag.

We arrive at church with tie-less boys who have uncombed hair, and one with macaroni and cheese yellow streaking down the front of his previously pristine white shirt.  Did I mention it is 1:00, so there is not really an excuse to be disheveled like this, since we had four hours more prep time than the early people?

Today in church one of the songs was "Gently Raise the Sacred Strain." When we got to the beginning of the second verse, I sang the words "Holy day, devoid of strife" and could not sing for the rest of the verse because I was seized by a fit of completely irreverent maniacal laughter. Pregnancy hormones? Maybe. Maybe not.

3 comments:

Unknown said...

We noticed the more time we have, the harder it is to get everyone ready on time. Thanks for the post, though, it is nice to know we are not alone.

Brittany said...

Maniacal laughter is good. Healthy even. Especially in church.

The Yoder's Four said...

Sundays are THEEEEE WORRRST with kids. We can never be on time to 1pm church, either. It is one of the most dreaded days of the week for me, at least until the block of meetings is over. Then PJs and macaroni shirts are totally acceptable.