'Twas the Sabbath Before Christmas

Today we walked into church during the opening hymn. Spotting an available space second from the front, we marched up to take our seat. Instead, we were greeted with a pile of books and someone's briefcase saving the spot for someone else. So. . .we marched back and found a seat in the very back of the overflow seating in the cultural hall.

The Christmas music program extended beyond the normal duration of sacrament meeting by 35 minutes. Luke, of course, makes many attempts to escape the chapel. Hoping it is the final song, I arrest him on my lap and offer him a sippy cup of water. After taking a huge swig from his cup, Luke joins in the chorus of Hallelujahs with an impressive gurgle.

I must have been trying to focus on the words of the choir because I had somehow been oblivious to this first offense. But his second offense was louder and much more obnoxious. People began to turn and look and it was then that I realized my son was gurgling at the top of his lungs. His gurgling abruptly ended with an equally loud burp, and people around us (including ourselves) began to quietly shake their shoulders in an attempt to contain their laughter.

Because Luke was actually "sick" recovering from a cold, April couldn't take him to nursery and began to roam the halls while I headed to class. The boys I teach (10-11 year olds) were the worst yet. We closed class by singing Away in a Manger...off key and in a higher pitch voice than their voices naturally ascend. On my way to sharing time, a member of the bishopric pulls me aside.

I begin to realize that I am being issued a calling (in addition to the one I already have)--that of Scoutmaster. I was asked to work with the 12-14 year old Scouts. I am informed that this is the hardest group of boys they have had. They all seem to have a personality conflict with their former leaders. For this reason, many of the boys have stopped attending weekday Scout activities. I was being called to rescue this generation of video game addicts and turn them into Boy Scouts. Of course, I graciously accept.

After church is over April heads down to pick up Collin while I look for the car keys (which are lost). His class wasn't quite over yet and Collin's teacher invited her to join them during the closing prayer issued by Collin. So. . .they all folded their arms and Collin began. . ."Dear Heavenly Father, please help our teachers to be better teachers". . .and I'm sure that the rest of the prayer wasn't heard by April who was probably trying to figure out a way to sneak out of the room with no one noticing.

Anyhow. . .just another typical Sunday here in Florence. Now we're off to prepare dinner for the missionaries who are coming over tonight. And it's raining cats and dogs. But we'll be dreaming of a white Christmas, and tall, tall snowmen. We were remembering the Sunday snow we had last time we were in Utah. This picture of the boys was taken then. We send our love to all, and wish you a merry Christmas!