On Sunday, I went to the early 8 am Mass instead of the 10 am family Mass, since we had afternoon plans to go apple picking. What I liked is that the 8 am Mass lacked the contemporary worship music and instruments and just had an organist. Nothing wrong with guitars and flutes, I'm just more of a silence person in Mass. So, that was good. What was bad, you ask? Well, the 8 am Mass attracted, let's just say, a non-child crowd. Hank was the only child there. And he was bad. *Real* bad. Here's a sampling of dialogue:
Hank: "MOMMY. I want my Sponge Bob fruit snack."
CL: "Honey, remember, shhhh. You have to whisper in church."
Hank: "MOMMY. I *ARE* whispering." In a voice loud enough to be heard by half the congregation.
CL: "Honey, no you're not. You have to be quieter."
Hank: "I NO WANT to be quieter."
Later, he threw his jacket into the next pew, and then refused to put it on. I had to force his arms in. And then drag him out of the church. And across the busy road in front, where he deliberately *went limp* in the middle of the road. I had to scrape him up and carry him, arms and legs flailing, across the street while people stared from their stopped cars.
In the car, I threw and *locked* him into his car seat, and in no uncertain terms told him that (a) he embarrassed me, (b) I was *very* disappointed in him, and (c) he was never coming to church with mommy again. This led to Hank bursting into tears and screaming for the whole ride home.
Who can't wait to have kids?
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