This morning the six year old looked out the window and instead of seeing the new set of monkey bars he saw...
A big fat bit of thievery.
See...
Last night as we cussed our way through lovingly put the monkey bars together...
We had to move the see-saw my Dad made the kids last year out of the way.
We forgot to move it back to it's usual location so the first thing my minion saw was an empty space where the see-saw used to be.
His jaw dropped and he said:
"Did Santa steal our See Saw?"
I mean...
He actually believed that Santa had stolen his sleigh.
I guess I shouldn't be too surprised:
This is the kid I had to tell NOT to lick the lights at Rock City.
In his defense they did look pretty tasty:
We hadn't planned on going to a Christmas Eve service...
Oh, don't judge us. Our church didn't have one this year.
...with a nursery provided.
Isn't that a beautiful phrase?
Again, you're judging me.
So, we decided to mosey on down to Southwood Presbyterian.
Very good decision.
Thirty minutes into the service I realized I was enjoying the service way too much.
The kids were being, dare I saw it, really good!
I mean...crazy good.
The six year old was being completely silent.
Honestly and embarrassingly I actually started to feel prideful about how good the minions were being.
In church.
Dang it, woman! Get it under control.
And then I realized that...
It wasn't that the six year old was being attentive, it was that he was completely and totally asleep.
Apparently he had been sleeping since after the first song.
Nice.
He woke up just in time to light ye olde candle and sleepily sing Silent Night.
As we walked home he asked me:
"Why do they always talk about how wobbly Jesus was in the manger?"
Huh?
Wobbly?
And then I realized he was talking about Luke 2:12:
"And this will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger."
Swaddling/Wobbly...
Close enough.
And with that I'll say:
Merry Christmas.
Gosh I love that boy!
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