You know that family that comes to church who just can't sit still in the pew and someone always has to be taken to the back for one reason or another, and they fight over crayons and spill cheerios and all that?
I'll give you one guess whether we are that family at our church.
Truth is, there aren't very many families at all at the very small parish church we attend, so one way or another, we are going to attract some attention. And it's not that the kids are even very badly behaved; I think we usually do pretty well. Usually. It's just that an hour is a very long time when you are 5, or 3, or 2 years old. When I have to go alone while Jeremy is at work or sleeping off his night shift, I dread what might happen.
So you can imagine just how pleased I was when they announced that there would be Sunday School for the kids last week (a rare event at our church).
Yes! I thought. It will be just BR and me--I can handle that. And for once, our family won't be so conspicuous!
BR and I sat toward the front of the church, with a few elderly parishoners in front of us, and the Missionaries of Charity (Mother Teresa's order of nuns) two rows up from us.
And he did great. Sat on my lap, quietly flipped through some books. Nibbled on some raisins. Evidently, he has even moved beyond the phase where he would shout or scream some variation of, "Is that JESUS? In the BREAD? JESUS in the BREAD! IT'S THE JESUS BREAD!!!"
Phew, he didn't do that. No, not that. This time, as the priest lifted the cup of wine, there was complete silence after the bell was rung and everyone was on their knees with heads bowed,