Well, it's only Saturday the 11th of December at 1:55 pm. No need to panic- still a full five minutes until the nine boys arrive.
Just the right amount of time to finish up the pvc pipe- your basic raw materials for the infamous marshmallow shooter.
And a quick dash to the store for some wrestling ring details.
Put the two together and you've got all you need to annihilate those seven pillars of fire.
And plenty of time to spread a little marshmallow joy all around the basement.Nope, these aren't daycare days. This is definitely weekend rules.
*
All that to lead up to a more reverent celebration-
Sam's church Christmas program.
Oh, that my son be the shy boy hiding behind his hands.
Oh, that my son would be a cherubic angel.
Oh, thank heaven somebody else's angel blocked our son from view for a merciful but short period of time.
Mild amusement morphs to sheer terror and mother mortification.
The offspring is going for full blown show boat.What with the spontaeous relaxation, -taking a load off if you will-.... while children all around him dutifully and obediendly stood at attention.
A little time for nose evacuation.
And then his well-versed line.
Not to mention the whole -pulling out of the shades and doing a whole gangsta impression while all the shepherds and angels sang and behaved appropriately all around you?
A little time for nose evacuation. And then his well-versed line.What on earth possessed my son to use his sing-song-I'm-a-goofy-goober voice with the mike shoved firmly up his orafice?!
Not to mention the whole -pulling out of the shades and doing a whole gangsta impression while all the shepherds and angels sang and behaved appropriately all around you?What about the exaggerated lip sinc? The wildly overdone facial expressions?
Right up to the moment when you noticed your mother crouched very, very close to the stage hissing things at you like take. those. glasses. off. and smart. en. up.
All that vinegar seemed to just drain out of you in that moment. Could have been the hissing. Could have been the mother-death-glare. Might have been the sudden, jerky, arm-flailing sign language that your mama was sending you.
Whatever it was. I hope I've got a whole lot more of that in storage somewhere.
And I hope I'll not be called upon to use it any time soon again....
(on second thought.... I was already using my reserves. Let's not forget his brother before him.)
9 comments:
YAYYYY!
I used to bandage up my eldest's finger(s) before a Christmas program so he wouldn't shove them up his nose and mortify me. Such is motherly love. I can laugh...now.
VB
But that face - that radiant face looking at his birthday cake. Nothing tops that. Not even the piss and vinegar.
:)
i know COMPLETELY how horrifying it can be when our dearly beloved children make us sweat in our underpants during their performances....
HOWEVER, i always occurs to me (when its other people's children of course)...that the kids on stage that do the "unpredictable" are by FAR the most delightful ones on stage...
Hmmmmm....we also have 2 birthdays in December....gets a little crazy....
At least he left his dress down and didn't show his panties. THAT would have been embarrassing.
PS. I want a PVC gun. Best goody bag ever!
Melissa
These are the days, my friend!
never boring whenever I stop by here :) liking the macgyver-esque bday. your hubby has my hubby wanting one of those. and I gotta say combining two notorious no-no's ... playing with food/playing with guns ... best bday brainwave yet. At this moment you are probably the favourite parents...savour it, HA!
well, I think I noticed parents exhibiting concern upon picking up their children. And one or two who were truly impressed.
I'm going to block those sensible parents from my memory.
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