Sundays mean church at our house. Even though the twins suddenly developed stuffy noses when I announced that we would, indeed, be going to church this rainy morning.
"But, Mom, I'm sick!" TwinBoyA said.
"I'm sick, too!" TwinBoyB said.
"I don't care." I said. "We're going."
I showered before Babygirl woke up, then supervised the boys as they dressed, gave them donuts leftover from yesterday and combed their hair. When Babygirl woke up, I nursed her and then dressed her in a dress and tights. With the children presentable, I turned my attention to myself.
But, I have a corn on my toe. It appeared some weeks ago, this spot where it felt like a toenail was jabbing into my almost-pinky toe. I examined it and self-diagnosed it as a corn, then treated it myself with some acid I bought at Target. All seemed well, but now, apparently, I'm going to die of a toe corn. It hurts more than ever.
So, getting dressed was a challenge. No pumps for me. No pantyhose. I wanted to go barefoot.
Now, Babygirl was not excited about the idea of being put down. Have you ever tried to put on eyeliner while holding a one-year old? I stood her on the counter while I lined my eyes and put on the rest of my face. But I had to put her down while I pulled on some clothes (black knit pants, black shirt, black shoes--ouch, that toe hurts). She screamed, but I was dressed.
We arrived at church fifteen minutes early. I concentrated on not limping. I intended to claim a certain back pew for my rowdy clan, but it was already reserved with someone's purse and Bible. Drat. We sat in the second to last pew and Babygirl immediately decided that something was not right in her world.
Her whines became howls. I have no idea what upset the delicate balance of her universe, but sure enough, I had to take her to the nursery before church even started. I left the boys in the care of a couple who are grandparents. Their cousins and grandmother would eventually join them on the back pew.
Babygirl sat on my lap for a good forty-five minutes in the nursery before she felt comfortable enough to venture off in search of toys. I enjoyed visiting with the volunteer mom who was staffing the nursery.
On the way home from church, five and a half year old YoungestBoy says, "Mom, I was the funniest kid in Sunday School!"
I said, "You were?"
"Yes," he said, "Whenever they asked me any questions, I just said, 'bacon!'"
"Bacon?" I said.
"Yes, bacon!" he answered triumphantly.
I do not know why, but apparently this is the pinnacle of humor when you are five.
So, I did not sing a hymn this morning. I did not pray with the congregation. I did not hear the solist, nor the choir. I did not listen to a sermon.
But all is not lost! I had a refreshing conversation in the nursery. And miraculously, the twins apparently received a complete healing. Their colds instantly vanished the second we left church.
Bacon!
