The faith I belong to encourages us to keep the Sabbath holy. Basically, what that means to me is don't go shopping, spend time with the family, go to church, think about God and His Son, and take a long nap. Sunday's are supposed to be a day of bliss, a day of reverence, reflection and rest. Well, that's only if you don't live on 90th South at the end of the cul-de-sac with the rooster on the roof. My Sunday goes something like this...
Me: Lou (that would be Grace), it's time to go, uhh no you cannot wear snow boots with that pretty dress. Where are your sunday shoes?
Lou: Somebody stole them again.
Me: Really? Who stole Gracie's shoes? Confess right now or I am sending you to the zoo!!!
All boys ignore question and don't even seem fazed at my scary threat.
Lou: I wish you wouldn't call me Lou today.
Me: Alrighty then, where are your shoes, boys don't wear your kind of shoes Gracie Lou.
Lou: MOM!!! I LEFT THEM IN MY CLOSET AND THEY ARE GONE!!!
Me: Well all I know sister is that you are the only girl in this house that wears glittery shoes in a women's size 7. I would be very concerned about your brother's wearing your shoes, no cross-dressing allowed in the house, YOU HEAR THAT BOYS?!
Again, not even a single nod, all boys are having a out of body experience with the fabulous homemade cold cereal I provided, with love mind you.
Lou: Fine. Stomp, stomp, stomp, sigh, sigh, sigh, sniffle, sniffle...slam!
Five minutes later Grace appears with some shoes that'll work...barely.
Me: Okay, those aren't them, but they will work. When you get home, find your shoes please.
Very pretty large eyes rolling around her head like a tilt-a-whirl. Black girl attitude threatening to emerge any minute. Run for cover boys!!! Where has Lou gone I ask? Oh yeah, that far, far away place called Puberty.
Fast forward about 30 minutes, we have arrived at church with no minutes to spare. The congregation can relax now, The Parry Parade has finally arrived. I tuck them all in, put some spit in their hair, then threaten them again with the zoo.
Jack: I know where Gracie's shoes are mom. Giggle.
Me: Jack! Did you steal her shoes?
Jack: Yes! (hysterical giggles, threatening the entire meetings somber mood)
Me: Oh Jack, now I have to send you to the zoo! Where are your sisters shoes?
Jack: In Brayden's weight lifting bag, he's gonna have to wear them to school all day!!! His girlfriend is gonna think he's a big hairy girl! (please remember that this is the humor of a seven year old, he thinks he's hilarious)
Me: They won't fit Brayden and Grace is gonna be really upset with you.
Jack: I don't care, I'm your baby boy and you'll tell them to be nice to me.
Me (with a SUCKA stamp on my forehead): You're right kiddo, you are my baby boy. Now come give momma a hug. Geez you're adorable...and just a little spoiled.
Me: Hey Grace...I know where your shoes are. Jack stole them.
Lou: Told you so! Geez, you never listen to me.
Me: You're right Lou, I can always count on you to set me straight. Don't worry, I'm sending him to the zoo.
Then we come home. Eat. Throw all our clothes in a huge pile, put our fuzzy warm PJ's on. Fight a little. Eat. Fight some more. Take a nap. Eat. Fight just for good measure. Watch Amazing Race. Eat. Argue about bedtime. Eat one last time. Then do this till bedtime....
We play with our two-headed baby Bella and take pictures of our cyclops Jack. You know, those kids we got from the zoo? Told you we were strange and completely irreverent. What do you do on Sunday?