Thanks for the Christmas Memory

Whenever we go to mass en masse, for other congregants, there is instant entertainment. No matter how disciplined one might be in focusing on the celebration itself, nine children of assorted ages have a way of creating unintentional distraction.

Christmas day was just such an experience. We were in the cry room at Saint John's, having force marched the kids after opening a present a piece to get dressed for Christmas mass 8:30.

It was 7:45.

Because we were pressed for time, we opted for the Parish closest to home, rather than our normal Church There was a cry room which provided excellent cover and sound proofing for the squirmy set. We took up two rows.

Other people came to the children's room to avoid the scruitiny of coming late on December 25th. Our kids were actually quite good given their own desire to be home diving through the wrapping paper discovering hidden treasures. My 20 month old played peekaboo with the family behind us and took every opportunity to point out every "baby" that she spotted in the room.

The four year old and three year old began a minor battle of wills over the mini chairs for kids and who should have the blue and who should have the red seat.

We got to the offeratory and my three year old darling cupie doll began to talk.

She explained to her brother behind her for reasons which will soon be obvious, "It's not right to pick your nose. Mom says it's wrong to pick your nose. You can't pick your nose. You can't pick your nose. You can't pick your nose." She did a little dance and song, "That's the rule, you can't pick your nose. It's wrong. It's wrong to pick your nose."

The two women who were across from us lost composure.
Merry Christmas.

P.S. Sorry I didn't post Sunday, I was feeling sick.