Monday, June 24, 2013

Sunday Comics

I remember fighting my brother every Sunday morning to get the comics first.  Dennis the Menace, Family Circus, Blondie, Peanuts, B.C., Calvin and Hobbes. Remember that? Now that this Sunday tradition has almost completely disappeared from American society, my children have taken upon themselves the responsibility to fill the comic void--and do it during Church, no less.

So here are a few funny moments from the Sanatorium's church meetings yesterday.

It's a feat in itself to get all of my monkeys to Church on time--with Sunday shoes and socks, hair combed, and ready for the meetings.  Yesterday morning, Hyrum couldn't find his suit pants for anything.  We looked and looked and looked, and they had disappeared.  I don't know if anyone noticed that the high-water pants he actually wore were his karate pants.

What?  They're black.

I finally shepherded my little flock into the pew (minus Ben who was home with a ferocious headache), and the wrestling began.  Micah and Hyrum had a heated dispute over who got to sit at the end of the bench, resulting in a physical altercation.  I separated them, tried to keep them quiet, banished them both to different seats, and hoped it was all over.

I was wrong.  They started arguing over whose fault it was that they'd gotten into trouble.  I stood them both up and began the the chapel is a place to be reverent speech I've given a dozen times.  "You need to be quiet and reverent.  It shows respect for everyone around you and for Heavenly Father.  Now both of you go get a drink before the meeting starts."

No sooner had those words left my lips than Hyrum let rip the loudest, longest belch I've heard from his little body.  He started laughing.  Micah started laughing.  Lily started laughing.  The three adults in the row ahead of us started laughing.  I did not.

"Hyrum, that is not funny.  Or respectful.  Go get a drink and come back ready to be reverent."  The couple in front of me waited until the boys left before they turned around, laughing.  The husband said, "I love kids like that.  They grow up to be great adults."  And at that moment, I was very grateful that they were sitting in front of us, not some grouchy old lady who would pass judgment on my parenting skills based on one fairly harmless yet rafter rattling belch.

You'd think this would be enough for one meeting, but you'd be wrong.

During the final speaker, Eve started digging through my bag, looking for anything to amuse herself.  She found an old thank-you note and asked me to seal it back up.  Of course, this is impossible, but three-year-old stubborn girls don't understand this.  I told her we would tape it when we got home, but she refused to accept this answer.  She began to repeatedly ask for tape, and with each request her voice got louder and more upset.  No matter how many times I insisted that I had no tape and couldn't comply with her request, she still yelled for tape.

When none of my efforts would calm her down, I reluctantly got to my feet, scooped her up and headed toward the door.  We sit on the back row of the chapel for expressly this reason--quick escape in case of tantrum.  But that door wasn't close enough this time.  Before I could get her out the door, she shouted, " I DON'T WANT TO GO OUT!!!!  I DON'T WANT TO GO OUT!!!!!" I was humiliated as the congregation began to giggle and I saw a few adults cover their snickers with their hands.

And Brad?  Yeah.  He sits up on the podium, watching all the commotion, and I'm sure he's secretly glad he doesn't have to deal with it.

Then, last night was one of the few perfect AZ summer nights--fairly cool overnight temperatures (low around 72) with no mosquitoes yet.  The kids pulled out their pillows, blankets, flashlights, and books, and they all slept on the tramp.

I went to sleep after they'd all settled down, fully expecting to find them all out on the tramp when I got up at 5:30.  Instead, this is what I saw:
Around 4 am the sprinklers turned on and drenched my four sleeping beauties.  They all took cover together on Lily's bed, sleeping like puppies in a pile.

Next time we get one of those perfect summer nights (maybe in September?), I'll have to remember to turn off the sprinklers!


  1. Truly the joy of motherhood.

  2. Ha! I didn't realize that "I don't want to go out" was from your camp. We heard it, and we laughed, too!! I said to John, "Wonder what happens when they 'go out!'" Now lest you are again dying from humiliation right now, please be aware that we've ALL been there, down that -- that's why it was so fun to chuckle yesterday ... WE didn't have to deal with fussy kids!! Joy! We love, love, love your family, and there's nothing your kids could do that would EVER offend or distract us! So no worries, Miss Jenny!

  3. I think anyone who has children and takes them church has had days like this. I have had years like this. We've all been there and I don't think anyone passes judgement, we're all just thankful that this time it isn't us.

  4. This took me right back to church in the 30th Ward!

    I saw your link, and that broadcast WAS really amazing!

  5. love sweet eve...goodness i'm glad i'm not alone....

    WHY is it always cute when it's someone else that this happens to...but when it's you you sweat during the chaos? (ok maybe you don't sweat, but i get all hot under the collar from fear of everyone looking at me and my kids)

  6. haha

    One time my sister's son (the one that is in Classixx now and touring the world with his music) was being very loud and irreverent during sacrament meeting.
    She started whispering in his ear that this was a time to think about Jesus and how much we love Him. His behavior kept getting worse, so she finally got up and walked down the aisle with him, similarly the incident you described. Only difference is that he was yelling, "I don't want to think about Jesus. I HATE Jesus."

    So it could always be worse...


  7. hahahahaha, classic. puppies on a pile. perfect description!!!