While I’m waiting on the muses to inspire so I can complete one thought and start and finish another, I felt the need to share by asking a question:
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.
Great story 🙂 Made me grin!
praying for your pants…
First off – Happy Birthday to Rachel. Geez – didn’t she just turn 14? Time flies.
I remember being a major potty mouth before kids and have really curtailed the language for their ears. But – lipstick on pants would bring on that. Cute story.
haha;)
Yes the devil gets holt of us too on Sun. a.m. especially!
Herb of Grace, me, too…eventually ;).
that girl, I LOVE IT!
Karmyn, yeah, and she was born week before last :/. It was hee-lair in the car Sunday, that’s for sure :).
Lizzie, ahhh! You say it (“holt”) just like me! And my sympathies for understanding just what I’m talkin’ about! 🙂
Did I ever tell you the story about when I threw Phil’s cowboy boot at him (and the boot stuck in the wall)? Yeah, that was Sunday morning. There’s more to that story…
I can always remember Sunday mornings being hectic and crazy round our house growing up, five girls and one boy, mom and dad and two bathrooms.. do the math? We were notoriously late and the only place to sit was always the front few pews… so NOT fair! I have learned that it doesnt matter how early you get up on Sunday morning (I tried the 4:30 am and setting out clothes and being completely ready so I could help everyone else with “hair”) its always going to be a mad dash and lost shoes ten minutes before service begins!
yeah, for your girl getting it right!
and to answer your question: yup. I have way too many days I just want to turn around and go home bec. of attitudes. But once at church and the music starts… ah, the frustrations melt away. thanks be to God
Hee hee. Clever child. I have often commented on how difficult it is for us to get out of the house on Sunday morning and to the church parking lot without a fight, a spill or a clothing disaster. Two Sundays ago, we were so worked up by the time we arrived, I told my bunch to hush and behave before we exited the car. You would have thought we were on our way to World Federation Wrestling instead of Sunday school.
I am in love with your daughter.
Give me your address so I can send her a pony.
Oh, I can relate only too well. Good for your daughter for bringing a little levity to the situation. Gotta love those kids!
Great story! I think everyone has Sunday mornings like that.
Sunday mornings are the worst. We are never on time, and it’s never my fault, which puts me in an even worse mood. How can I get completely ready for church, makeup and all, get all four boys dressed and ready, and my husband still isn’t out of the shower? Every stinkin’ week!
But we made a decision about six years ago that no matter how late it got, we would still go. That has turned out to be a very good decision for our family. With the added bonus that no one ever asks us to take any responsibilities at church because they know we’re always late!
Snicker. Love this story. LOVE.
Oh how this story made me laugh. Not at your rough morning but because I can totally see myself in the same situation.
Grace is great indeed!
Do you wonder if we would say something like “RAT GUTS” or “TOILET BOWL” with such disdain that it would still be swearing?
A good Damn just doesn’t seem wrong at a time like that.