I guess it would be good to just say that I have had A DAY.
It all started this morning, when Thing 2 was kicked out of the church nursery, because he decided to scream like a banshee with his arm caught in a combine. Oh, yes; it’s totally true. Not even the National Enquirer can make up stuff that good.
A new Beth Moore Bible Bible study started this morning, and because Beth is my BFF (she just doesn’t know it yet, what with her being famous and me being not famous), I was all set to go. I drove out to the church (which isn’t OUR church, but another church, where apparently they have stricter codes of protocol for Baby Behavior than our church has). I paid $12 in cold, hard cash for the workbook. I dropped Thing 2 off at the nursery. I checked him in. I picked up a nursery pager, because this church is all fancy, and they just use technology to page you if your child is behaving like a wild chimp and needs to quit throwing poo at the other monkeys. I sat down in the auditorium, expecting to get a Word from Beth. And then there was screaming. I heard it in the auditorium, and my brain immediately said to the rest of my head, “Um, THAT would be Thing 2.”
And it was.
And another woman — a gal I’ve never met before — sat down close to me and said, “Well! SOMEONE in that nursery isn’t happy about being there!” I nodded in agreement and made the facial expression of SOME PEOPLE’S KIDS, HUH?!
And then my pager went off. Right there. Right in front of Mrs. Stranger-I’ve-Never-Met-Before. I left the church’s auditorium, and went back to the nursery. It had been an entire five minutes since I had dropped Thing 2 off.
One of the gals in there was holding him, and he was fit to be tied. He was holding a crushed cracker in one hand and screaming, screaming… SCAH-REAM-ING! She looked at me with a tired, world-weary look and said, “We’ve tried everything. We even gave him a snack, and he’s having none of it. So we’ll just return him.”
And that is when I wanted to yell, “Well! Do you know what the Baptists do?! The Baptists wait at least TEN ENTIRE MINUTES before they throw the towel in with a screamer!” And then I wanted to add, “And our potlucks are better than yours, too!”
But I didn’t say any of those things.
Because Baptists mind their manners. Plus? Well, I really DO love the ladies at this other church. They’re good and kind and wonderful, and it isn’t their fault that they don’t have the best potlucks in town.
Thing 2 quit crying as soon as I took him. He clung to me with a death grip and tried to tell me about the horrors he saw in the prison camp while he was held hostage there for five whole minutes.
And then he and I went home.
I didn’t even open my $12 workbook.
I didn’t even get to see Beth rock the video with her great hair and fantastic wardrobe.
I didn’t get a Word.
The boy reminded me this afternoon that HE never got kicked out of a nursery before.
After that, Thing 2 shaped right up. He was a good boy the rest of the day. So I’m pretty sure that the score is Thing 2… ONE. Mama’s Hope For Attending Bible Study… ZERO.
Y’all have a happy Tuesday evening.