My mom’s water broke at church when she was pregnant with me. I was born a few hours later, bonny and blithe and good and gay. I thought something might happen at church today, and bring this childbirthing thing full circle, but no such luck.
We made it through Sacrament Meeting without taking Ben out of the chapel. We had a pacifier for him and kept him quieter than last week, but he still managed to say some things, like:
“You hurt my arms, Dad.” (Sorry, Ben.) “You have to take me to the hospital now.”
“You’re giving me a hickey!”
“Take me out and pop my bum!”
“Doo-be-doo-be-doo-wah. Agent P!” (from the cartoon Phineas & Ferb… he probably said this 150 times today)
He also jumped off the seat about 40 times, twice smacking his head on the pew in front of us. Most kids would have started wailing. Ben just looked up and said, “I’m fine.”
ps The boiled peanuts are delicious!