In Others' WordsIn Others' Words

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

That's a Good Question

The snow was not helping matters.
Don't get me wrong. I like snow--when I can enjoy it from inside my house while I'm drinking hot chocolate and watching it fall oh-so-quietly outside my window.
But last Sunday morning I was driving around in the snow, trying to find my church. We'd switched locations and I was confident I knew where the new building was. Confident but wrong.
So I ended up in front of the building where I thought everyone would be and it was deserted.
I do not like being lost.
So I call my ever-faithful husband on my cell phone and tell him I'm lost. (Rob was already at the new location setting up for service.) He recognizes the sound of frustration in my voice and asks me, "Where are you?" By this time, I am driving again. I can't tell him where I am because the oh-so-beautiful falling snow is covering all the street signs.
Now I am really not happy.
My caboose kiddo is along for the ride--silently watching her mother get more and more lost--and more and more frustrated. Her older siblings could have told her this is never a fun experience.
I finally manage to find my way to another church parking lot. It's only the biggest, most-mega-church in Colorado Springs. I couldn't miss it even if I'd been in a blizzard. Rob tells me to park my car and wait for him. He is coming to find me so that he can lead me back to our church.
And so Christa and I wait, listening to Adventures in Oddyssey.
When we finally make our way to the right church, I hear Christa say, "We're here, Mom! Aren't you excited?"
"Yes, I am excited," I tell her.
"Well, don't you want to act more excited?"
She's right. I'm definitely not acting excited. So, I wave my hands and shout "Yippee!" and ask if that's better.
"Yep!" she says. "What would you do without me to help you get excited?"
What indeed?

2 Comments:

At 9:11 AM, Blogger Josh said...

At least our little sister has perfected the fine art of the mommy-pick-up.

 
At 10:27 AM, Blogger Beth K. Vogt said...

Must be something in the genetic makeup, because all four of you had the knack . . .

 

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