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Monday Meandering

I hope everyone had a wonderful Independence Day. I got eaten alive by mosquito's. In fact in the hour or so long fireworks show I acquired roughly twenty bites on my feet alone.

They are on fire!

We had shish kabob's for dinner, which was a first for us and they turned out really well! We ate so much food it's entirely possible I gained five pounds.

But before all the fun could begin we had church to attend. It was one of those Sundays where you honestly wonder why you even go to church with kids. The Mischievite was at the height of his art and made me reconsider ever wearing my pencil skirt again.

And to top it off... as the congregation began to contemplate the sacrifice of the cross, the Mischievite announced that he had to go 'pee.'

I sent him out of the chapel with Albowin, a common occurrence in my Sunday worship. Minutes passed.

More minutes passed.

Images of my children being kidnapped in the halls of the church ran through my mind.

Ralexwin got up to direct the congregation to the next order of events during the service. I turned to watch the doors in the back of the chapel.

Finally Albowin came back in, the Mischievite trailing behind.

I immediately realized something was wrong by the way that Albowin kept trying to get his brother to stay by the door. Also in the slight waddle the Mischievite used when ignoring his brother.

They turned down the aisle between the pews and I was out of my seat and running as fast as my pencil skirt (and social expectation) would allow.

The Mischievite tried to run towards me but the pants that were around his knee's kept him from going to fast. Thankfully.

Yep--around his knee's.

It's always something with that one.

I'm assuming that what happened is Albowin couldn't get the button on his brother's pants so he came to tell me and the Mischievite followed.

Am I the only mother in the world with such of a mischievous child? What's the worst thing your child has ever done? (and believe me, I'm looking for your BEST --or worst-- stories)

Comments

Lisa said…
I love your crazy stories. They help me realize that I'm not the only one with psycho kids.

I can't think of a story that tops any of yours. I just live with mega, major, superior, monstrous amounts of attitude and fits from a 3 year old.

I almost quit being a mom today. But I didn't.
Anonymous said…
My children pulled over a grocery cart that had eggs in it. Luckily none were broken but one of them got squashed/scared underneath the cart and started screaming/crying. My first thoughts were something like, "I'm so going to strangle you two." A very nice man in the same isle had a very immediate reaction to make sure the kids were not hurt. That made me feel like a bad mother for a minute.
Anonymous said…
Edit: None of the eggs were broken but one of the kids got squashed/scared.....

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What do you think?

Mutterings of a Middle-Aged Dreamer

Use your words, my dear sweet soul, they are inside of you... So find them. Write, you silly girl, write so hard the world will never forget you.
But does it matter if the world remembers you? 
Age begins to press its hands upon your chest and the need to be remembered seems to increase with the pressure. 
Stop.
That's not a line of thought you're interested in pursuing. 
Live in the now.
Does it matter if the world remembers you if your neighbor is going hungry? 
Perhaps age is merely pushing you out the door. 
Go. Live in the now.