Saturday night we saw Mad Max in the theatre. I spent 50% of the time being in awe of the movie and the other 50% thinking of ways to get Billy to agree to let James, the twelve year old, see it. Alas, it’s not going to happen.
Fifty percent of the people in this picture are allowed to see Mad Max.
Sunday we went to church. Church cracks me up. Not because the preacher is particularly funny, even though he is funny enough as preachers go, but because I catch myself behaving like a general lunatic whilst attending.
Here’s your example:
The pastor will say something along the lines of ‘it’s good to pray for one another‘ and in my head I immediately think ‘that’s right! Billy does need to pray for me!‘ Or he’ll say ‘spend some time reading the Bible‘ and I’ll think ‘Uh huh! Billy sure does need to read his Bible.’ Basically whatever the pastor says I turn it around and use it against Billy.
I’m sure that’s exactly what the pastor intends when he preaches – for all the people out in the audience to think of reasons their friends need to hear the sermon. I’m just the worst. What the heck is wrong with me?!
If I’m not casting side glances at Billy I’m trying to make Stella behave. Lately all my kids have been boycotting their classes and attending the sermon with us. I have no clue why. Their classes are great. Bible, Beer, and Babies is all about her kids being in the sermon with her – its a new thing for me, though.
So, Stella drives me nuts by standing up and squirming, and dropping a thousand things and asking to go to the bathroom. The bad news is we sit smack dab in the front. That’s my fault. I have ‘can’t pay attention in big church’ issues.
The positive news is that we sit directly in front of a large contingent of hipster singles so, hello, birth control for them!
An added bonus to having her in the sermon? She’ll randomly pick up on things the pastor says and loudly make remarks on them while he’s talking. And she’s the absolute queen of taking things out of context.
“Did he just say dat da world hates us? Why does da world hate me? Dat is so sad!”
Every Sunday after church we go to Phil Sandoval’s. A couple reasons for this, the first being, hooray for Mexican food. The second being it opens at 10:45 and we get out of church at 10:30. So a win on both counts.
Being home by 11:45 on Sunday makes the day seem so long. Plenty of time to go to the creek, ride our bikes, and listen to the kids complain.
The complaining? That’s because last year we instituted a ‘No Screen Time Sunday’ rule. We just needed one day where we didn’t have to hear ‘can I get this app’, ‘can I watch this show’ and ‘is it my turn on the X Box.’ Mercy, we hear it enough!
The problem with it being on Sunday is then the kids have this dread of Sunday. It’ll start Saturday night. ‘Ugh, tomorrow is Sunday!’ they say. ‘The worst day of the week. No screen time!’
Minions!
Well, we’re a work in progress.
Kinda like me listening to the sermon…definitely a work in progress.