Choir was a trying experience today. My kids were not in the mood to behave. I know you all think they're perfect little angels, but punches were thrown today...in the chapel! My sweet little girls in their matching Easter dresses were punching and kicking each other, pulling each other's hair, stepping on each other's head. They were doing it as discretely as possible, but it was happening nonetheless, and when we got into the van they got a stern talking to and cried all the way home.
Blotchy-faced and quite solemn, they filed out of the van when we got home.
"And I was so hoping to take a picture of you in your matching Easter clothes," I said.
In return I was given icy stares of death. No pictures were taken this afternoon.
Benjamin was misbehaving in a different, more regular, yet still exhausting, basic two-year-old sense. He was throwing toys around, running around screeching, and constantly escaping through the chapel doors into the corridors of the church building, which in turn give him access to the parking lot and wide, wide world.
Early on in our choir hour, my friend's husband, whose name happens to be Ben, left the chapel after speaking to her briefly. He usually takes 4/5 kids home after church, while she and one daughter stay for choir (her to sing, her daughter to hang out with my daughters). My little Benjamin followed him right out, so I got out of my seat, raced down the platform stairs, and followed him into the hall.
"Benjamin, honey!" I called out.
It was only when my friend's husband turned around in response that I realized I'd suddenly put myself in a rather awkward position. Turning a little bit red in the face, I did the only thing I could.
I raced up to my Ben, grabbed his arm, and said, "My Ben, you need to stay here."
"Gotcha," other Ben said, waving goodbye.
It wasn't too big of a deal, I suppose, but it was momentarily awkward/embarrassing and I still find it terribly, terribly funny.
Blotchy-faced and quite solemn, they filed out of the van when we got home.
"And I was so hoping to take a picture of you in your matching Easter clothes," I said.
In return I was given icy stares of death. No pictures were taken this afternoon.
Benjamin was misbehaving in a different, more regular, yet still exhausting, basic two-year-old sense. He was throwing toys around, running around screeching, and constantly escaping through the chapel doors into the corridors of the church building, which in turn give him access to the parking lot and wide, wide world.
Early on in our choir hour, my friend's husband, whose name happens to be Ben, left the chapel after speaking to her briefly. He usually takes 4/5 kids home after church, while she and one daughter stay for choir (her to sing, her daughter to hang out with my daughters). My little Benjamin followed him right out, so I got out of my seat, raced down the platform stairs, and followed him into the hall.
"Benjamin, honey!" I called out.
It was only when my friend's husband turned around in response that I realized I'd suddenly put myself in a rather awkward position. Turning a little bit red in the face, I did the only thing I could.
I raced up to my Ben, grabbed his arm, and said, "My Ben, you need to stay here."
"Gotcha," other Ben said, waving goodbye.
It wasn't too big of a deal, I suppose, but it was momentarily awkward/embarrassing and I still find it terribly, terribly funny.
great story! :)
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