Does the devil get a holt to your family on Sunday mornings, too?
This past weekend on the drive to church, I was juggling. Every mama knows the drill–coffee in one hand, cleaning out my pocketbook with the other, and I had just put my fingers on the tube of Apricot Fantasy that would soon be painting my lips the same shade. Right about that time my husband picked up the ball of receipts I had just thrown on the floor, handed them back to me, and reminded me he had just cleaned out the car the day before and could I PLEASE help it stay that way for 24 hours?
Because I am ever grateful that he does, in fact, keep my car from looking like the staging area for our local recycling center, I obliged him by shoving the receipts back into my purse.
Unfortunately, that means I needed a third hand. My fingers couldn’t quite grasp everything I was trying to hold, so I accidentally dropped the tube of lipstick. Adding to the misfortune and chaos of the moment, OF COURSE the lid had already been removed for application.
Apricot Fantasy seems much bolder on my very light khaki pants than it does on my lips.
Under my breath (I thought), I grumbled, "Dammit." If ever there is a proper use of profanity, it’s when lipstick stains your pants, even if it’s on the way to church…maybe especially if you’re on the way to church.
Tad immediately said, "Do you think you could say that any louder?" which was a mistake because I was in no mood to be questioned.
"DammitdammitdammitdammitDAMMIT!" Lovely example for my children, no? :/
OF COURSE, I felt like a wretch as soon as it was out of my mouth, so I apologized to the kids and admitted my error in judgment. Tad, if I’m not mistaken, mocking me, said, "Y’all better pray for your mother’s soul."
Not missing a beat, my daughter wryly quipped, "It’s not her soul that needs praying for."
In that instant, I KNEW my daughter understood salvation, with the added bonus of a wicked-great sense of humor and masterful timing.
I celebrated the lipstick on my pants.