Sunday

Now that I have given myself the obligation of writing something amusing from our day of rest, I find this week that there is nothing much to write about. No shoe uprisings. No losing of children or articles of clothing. Nobody taking handfuls of the Sacrament bread or screaming blue-bloody during the passing thereof. Nothing of note...except the self-congratulatory and slightly smug feeling of superiority that Pie and I shared today as we managed to score our usual bench in the chapel.

Not since before the schedule change at the beginning of the year have we known the comfort of sitting in our customary spot for Sacrament meeting. And it is all the fault of the reverse schedule. As a Primary teacher bringing my Little Ladies from Sharing Time, I have to wait in the cultural hall for the parents to come pick up their children. And it takes a while. So by the time I am able to get myself into the chapel, everybody else is already there and all that are left are the rickety chairs. You know the ones. Non-conducive to both Crayolas and sitting comfortably alike. And just forget about reverence. Because that is only a possibility in the realm of the cushy benches. Way back in the echo-y outer-darkness of the cultural hall's sea of folding chairs, you haven't got a prayer.

Last week we got to the chapel late and so there we sat in the cheap seats, vaguely aware that somewhere in front of us the speakers were giving insightful and rather admonishing talks on REVERENCE DURING SACRAMENT MEETING. I was like, oh you have got to be kidding me. And here we (noisily) sat, exhibit A. I stifled the suddenly powerful urge to stand up and explain to everyone that my kids were really never this rowdy, that it was the darn crayons rolling off the back of the dang metal chairs that was producing such social unrest in the land of Konchars. And I don't mean to suggest that my little dears are such, well, little dears, but things were really getting out of hand. I was actually embarrassed, an emotion a mother of 5 can ill afford.

So Pie and I promised each other we would do whatever it took next time to ensure we were at least able to sit in the chapel proper. Because of my obligations in Primary, it would be up to Pie to get himself into the chapel in a flash to save us a good spot. In case you don't already know, Pie is a social butterfly. A chit-chatter and a hand-shaker, incapable of cutting somebody off mid-sentence so as to hit a gap in the crowded hall. I was a little worried. And yet I just had to have faith that he could do this. And do you know what? Today he totally came through. My man. The provider.


(For those of you keeping score: Jon wore Calvin's church pants today because we couldn't find his--I'm guessing they are in a sad little pile somewhere on the floor of the basement--and although he couldn't find a belt either, at least he was wearing underpants, so, you know, a win there.
Sid wore his black skater shoes--the ones without the skulls (not exactly church approved, but his real Sunday shoes he outgrew this week.)
Calvin wore Sid's shoes again this week, but on purpose.
Josie and Tommy didn't engage in any sort of clothing musical chairs like the others, but definitely pulled their weight by whimpering the first 20 minutes of Sacrament meeting (Josie) and coughing a most disgusting cough the entire time (Tommy).
We were 7 minutes late today.)