Too Much Information

I was going to take pictures of these moments today but I didn’t want to get my kids to get arrested for indecent exposure. So I will try and feed you a mental image of what those around us saw today.

Picture #1. Eleven year old boy steps out of the family tank in the church parking lot wearing…

· One red tee-shirt reading, ‘What, I just went to school yesterday.’

· Long black exercise shorts

· And get this, Roller blades with black socks. I wonder who his daddy is?

After a couple of laps up and down the church parking lot, he decided that he didn’t want to wear the above mentioned attire in the chapel (big sigh of relief here). Fortunately we had brought his Sunday clothes with us and he changed and made it to church before the opening song had ended. I’m just grateful that he came, regardless of how he was dressed.

Picture #2. Three sweet, impressionable deacons (12, 13 year old boys) came by our home to collect fast offerings this evening and were greeted at the door by none other than my darling Hope in nothing more than a diaper. At least she wasn't in just her birthday suit. By the way, she was in the middle of getting ready for bed.

‘Hi, how are you?’ She greeted them cheerily.

They, of course, were nervously giggling, and had their eye’s bugging out of their heads as they tried to discretely avert their gaze to count cobwebs on our ceiling. My husband hollered for Abner to come and get her while I desperately tried to find our last checkbook. Hopefully their minds won’t be permanently damaged.

I know that was probably too much information.

Well I tried going to church today, tried being the key word. After the first hour, I got a lift home from a great friend. I gave up after about 10 different people told me I looked like…, well I looked like I felt. To be honest I felt like Jabba the Hut, especially when I would try and chase Hope down the hallway. All slow motion and no energy, is not what you need when you’re chasing a two year old speed demon. My friends at church didn’t tell me directly that I looked like a giant slug, but I must have still looked green enough to have so many different people comment. Maybe they thought I was going to infect everyone, I don’t know. I didn’t feel too contagious because I’ve taken all my anti-biotics, and have been around my husband for two weeks without him as much as catching a sniffle. To be honest, I’m feeling like my bark is slowly improving. I don’t hack nearly as often or juicy as I did a week ago. Oh, thank you cough medicine with codeine, you are a true friend.

However, that being said, still feeling like a slug, can’t be good news. It’s probably because I have tried to work through this illness and haven’t really rested. It’s just so darn hard to watch the house fall to pieces when you sit around and do nothing. How bad can it be to keep tidying up as opposed to sitting and stewing? I guess bad enough to make me feel like Jabba. So I promised my Prince Erik I would take an official couple days off from my job. I might have to lock myself in a room somewhere and wear earmuffs to keep from hearing the kids destroy things, and feel the need to come to the rescue. I don’t know we will see how it goes.

Meanwhile let's hope the fashion police are not on patrol because my husband will be dressing the kids for the next couple of days.