Karma: What goes around, comes around. See also Grandma’s description: God’ll get ya, every time.
4th Commandment: Honor your father and mother
We trekked into church for the first time in several weeks today. Tom has been traveling on the weekends, and while I’m a strong woman, I’m not strong enough to get the two boys to a church 35 minutes away by 9:15 on a Sunday morning. Getting them there would require Bailey’s in the coffee, and then I couldn’t drive, so yeah, there’s the reason right there I didn’t bother. Tom had a rehearsal, I had to pick up music, and we thought we should probably make an appearance before the fires of hell burn brighter for us. Or something like that.
The boys are generally pretty good during the service, but they do get antsy after awhile. So they usually make the trek to the basement bathroom at some point, usually mid-sermon. I let them go, and my last words to them are always, “Come right back.”
They didn’t come back, they didn’t come back, they didn’t come back. Finally, right as Tom was about to go downstairs and crack some heads, J thumps upstairs (yeah, we’re so proud) and stage whispers at about 95 decibels, “A’s hurt (mumble mumble), nose, downstairs.” Tom hurries downstairs to check on him…
and doesn’t come back, doesn’t come back, doesn’t come back.
Is it too much to ask for a quiet, meditative service? This is why I play the liturgy any chance I get. I get to sit up behind the choir, no one talks to me, I can enjoy a quiet hour. Ahhh…
So, just as I was about to head downstairs to make sure body parts were all where they were supposed to be, Tom brings A back up with a bloody nose. Only my child could get a bloody nose at church going to the bathroom.
Turns out that the boys took their respective leaks, then snuck into the preschool that’s in the basement. And discovered a New!Teeter!Totter!
See where this is going?
A got smacked in the nose farting around on the teeter totter instead of returning to the service.
And got a bloody nose.
And a lesson on karma.
With a heaping side of the 4th Commandment.
As Mom always said, God’ll Get Ya, Every Time. And now I have proof.