Sunday, Bloody Funny Sunday

As Autumn leaves fall, pumpkin lights flicker throughout the Valley. Little girls don cable knit tights, little boys chase them shrieking through puddles, and mommies get to feel pressured to dress their children in matching Gap sweater sets (all the while buying Martha Stewart recipe books but then burning Libby's pies... setting the dessert out on paper plates since their toddlers used their Crate N' Barrel cake stand as a Sit N' Spin.)

Everyone has their own traditions that mark the beginning of the holiday season, and for me, one of these is the start of Sunday school. Every year we get new parents, new children, and a whole new set of hilarious comments. Thanks to Mrs. V., who graciously volunteers her big heart and piano playing skills, today was exceptionally enjoyable. (You ain't seen nothing until you see a Georgetown Law graduate get jiggety on a plastic keyboard crooning "Jesus gave us friends today Hooray I seeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee Mrs. P!", the whole while wearing a rainbow cat in the hat cap on her head.)

In the theme of Fall, here's a few comments that made me fall over laughing during prayer time.

Mrs. V: (to a 3 year old boy) Do you have any friends at your preschool?
Josh: My teacher is my friend. Her name is Mrs. Back Door.
Mrs. V: Mrs... who?
Josh: Mrs. Back Door.
(I don't know about him, but I'm thinking the teacher has a few buddies.)

Me: What about you, Jenny? Do you have a friend?
Jenny: Yes. She lives in San Francisco.
Josh: I have a boyfriend.
Me: Oh. Does he live in San Francisco too? (I couldn't help myself)

Later that evening, I went to Mrs. V's for dinner. (Rex is away on business, but managed to call me from every layover. I don't hear from him for days on end when he's in the same house with me. But put him on a plane and he waxes more nostalgic than Santa the day after Xmas.) As the kids gobbled up pumpkin quesadillas (picture to come as it's healthy and festive and EASY... my kinda deal) we had a nice back and forth about our previous lives as singletons, our hopes for the future and various tricks we use to stick the kids in bed. (Mine? Dinner at home, clean up, bath, books bed. Unless it's tonite, then it's mooch off friends, ride through the city looking at Halloween lights, stay up until 10 and crash in Mommy's bed. Whatever.)

Driving through the canyons, looking at the lights of the city tonite, everything seemed possible. Stink and Pip kept screaming "Ahhh! Hills! We're gonna fall!" But they said it with such glee. What's to be afraid of? Warm pjs, Mommy driving, a little John Lennon blasting through the speakers.

My heart, like a child's candy basket, felt overjoyed with the sweetness of how good life can be. Like this season, like my children, like those canyons, I vow this year to not let fear rule me. I vow to laugh. I vow to shut my eyes, let someone else do the driving, and just fall.