Very soon, Mini will get up from his nap and join in the time honored tradition of hunting Easter eggs. At 33, I'm still clueless as to exactly what in the world eggs, sugar and that darn Bunny have to do with Jesus, but I'll go along with it.
This morning we went to service at SW Bible Church. This church sponsors the Wednesday Bible Study that I occasionally attend downtown, so we thought we'd check out the church since I already knew I'd like the pastor.
We dropped Mini off in the nursery, took our numbered plastic badge that matched the one attached to Mini's sweater vest and went to listen to some preachin'. Through the service, I kept watching the electronic signs high on the wall beside the pulpit, hoping that our number wouldn't flash across. Hubby and I were quite relieved to have made it all the way through the service without Mini getting bounced. Yeah, yeah, I know. The kids whose parents had to go get them didn't get kicked out, but Hubby and I prefer to think of it that way. It makes us feel like better parents.
"Oh, sorry. You're kid was number 379, huh? Oh, Mini? He was number 924. They let him stay. Too bad about your kid, though."
Maybe not the best attitude to have after Easter service, but I'm only human...