Sunday was a hard day for everyone involved.
I admit, it was completely my fault.
Jeffrey and I went out for curry. It was our first date since moving. Oh how I miss dating. Especially dating my husband. That is the best kind of dating, because there are no pretensions, no trying to impress the other person, just being yourself. Just being so happy to be with the other person. And the best part about our date is that it didn't end when we got home. We stayed up until 3:00 laughing, and playing and being happy to be together. It was lovely.
The morning after, however, not so much.
The children were kind and let us slightly sleep in. When they decided we had enough beauty sleep, they bombarded us. Faye was the first. Sometime between Saturday night and Sunday morning she learned how to open doors. She sweetly walked into our room, and climbed up on the bed. She flopped down on my head with all her little pillow weight.
"Night night." She whispered conspiratorially, and then grinned. I smiled knowing the sleep would soon be gone from my eyes. She closed her eyes, tricking me into following suit, I let my eyes droop. That must have been the signal. Keith banged into the room with all the energy of a whirlwind. He was talking so fast only one word each sentence could be understood. As if propelled by an invisible catapult, he launched onto the bed, and started wrestling Jeffrey. Soon the bed was a jungle of blankets and sheets and limbs. Flinging, feathers, laughter. It should have been the perfect start to the morning. Normally it would have been. Except the squeals of laughter changed into fits of fighting, and screams, and anger. For a solid hour, the screams were deafening. Jeffrey was comatose. Nothing can really wake that man when he wants to sleep. I tried to hug both children at the same time while keeping them away from each other. Neither wanted to get ready for church. Neither wanted to do anything.
I have to admit, I was very impressed with myself. I was able to get ready for church in less than twenty minutes. We were slightly late, but we made it.
I was tired, felt frumpy, exhausted, and alone. Jeffrey had stayed home (which turned out to be a great thing), and I was happy. It was the strangest feeling ever. They climbed all over the benches, flipped through the hymn books, and were being absolutely crazy. I should have been mortified. I should have been slouching down in my seat. We were in the front! Instead, I let them be wild (I was too tired to fight it), and inwardly grinned.
Half way through the first talk, Keith's nose started to bleed. He had a small scab on the top of his nose and with all his struggling and grouching around, he had somehow scrubbed the scab off. I tried to clean it up with a tissue, but he saturated it, and kept on going. He then used his shirt sleeve. Blood on a white shirt is not easy to clean. He was crying.
I grabbed both kids and rushed them out of the chapel. My mother in law was sitting near the door, so I deposited Faye in her lap, rushed Keith out the door, and home. I cleaned off his shirt, turned around, and found him snuggled under his covers, already asleep. See? Lucky that Jeffrey had not been feeling well this morning!
I marvel how miraculous it is that a day can go from awful to wonderful with just a few naps.