by teresa
In a hurried Sunday morning around here you will have lots of stuff going on.
With five people trying to get ready for church at the same time you have to search for an unoccupied place to do your morning business. Wanna iron? Take a number. Wanna put on your makeup? Your best bet is to creep to the car for some alone mirror time. Wanna get dressed without the eyes of the world on you? Find an empty corner and get yer dress on. I did this very thing today. I grabbed my clothes from upstairs and headed downstairs to finish my hair and put on my clothes. I almost went into the bathroom (just to make sure the neighbors didn't get a show) but I decided to strip quickly in the den to have more room.
Holy mother of full body nakedness!
That's when my nine year old son (who is quiet like a dang ninja) came around the corner. I had NO idea he was even on the 1st floor.
Poor fella.
I screamed.
He screamed.
He slapped his hands to his eyes so quick and hard, (as if a laser was burning them out) I will be
surprised if he doesn't have permanent hand prints on his face.
Note to self: make Ben an appointment with child physiologist to get a head start dealing with the inevitable trauma caused by this mornings happenings.
1 comment:
That's funny (how you told the story of what happened). Ben seemed okay to me when I saw him at church. I think he survived.
Post a Comment