Sundays

Why do we even try? Every Sunday on the way to church, we say to each other "Why are we rushing? We will end up in our dark room anyway." And every single Sunday, we are exactly right.

This morning we wake up 30 minutes before we need to be there. Usually we'd take our time, but today was the primary program and my mom is the primary president. So we RUSH out the door and make it to church only 10 minutes late. That's dang good for a family of four with a two year old who runs away while her mom is trying to do her hair so she doesn't have to walk around with her head tilted up because her bangs grow straight forward (was that run on sentence long enough for yall?).

Anyway, we get there. Lucy LOVES music. Anything with music or dancing. So I think, hey we may be able to sit like a family and enjoy the program. HA! Lucy sits down and then hears her Grammie's voice. She doesn't see her face so it wasn't a blood bath.. yet. The kids start singing and Lucy sings right along. Everything was going pretty well.

Next thing I know, Lucy is army crawling under our legs and crawling towards the front of the chapel. She thinks she's slick. There I am, climbing over Josh and Crew and bending down in front of the entire congregation (because we think its okay for us to sit towards the front and disturb everyone while Lucy does her thing). In my heels and dress. Beautiful site.

Then she sees her Grammie. It's all over from that point. Thrashing, screaming, kicking, crying.. anything to get her way to my mom. This temper tantrum lasted the rest of the meeting. Needless to say, Lucy was a happy girl to have her Grammie after it was over. And all she wanted to do was sing in the microphone. Diva in the making? We sure are in for it.