D is for Donuts!
The only reason my kids go to church is for the donuts. There, I said it.
Every Sunday we battle with the kids to get them out to church. They won’t get out of bed, they drag their feet getting dressed, they fight with each other and they complain the whole time. Some of them have also been known to sit outside the church and refuse to go in.
And let me tell you, sitting with an angry 11, 9, 8, 6 and 2-year-old in church is no picnic. (Actually, the 2-year-old isn’t angry, he just thinks the pews are a big jungle gym.) Once mass is over, they make a bee-line for the donuts. On the days there are no donuts, let’s just say, it isn’t pretty.
The irony is that it is all my fault. You know how people like to say that you will get payback for your behavior with your children? It’s happened. 5-fold. Defying all laws of statistics and genetics, all 5 of them inherited my attitude and not Spouse’s. I was horrible to my mom about church. On Sundays I behaved the same way my own kids do now, all the way up to, and including, high school.
She made the mistake once of telling me that I had to follow her rules until I turned 18. My 18th birthday was on a Saturday. The following Sunday I was lazing in my bed and my mother told me to get ready for church. I triumphantly told her that I was 18 and I didn’t have to go to church anymore.
I only have 2 things to say now:
1) Mom, I am really, really, really, really sorry.
2) I think I will say, as long as you live under my roof…..