Today’s post is brought to you by the fabulous Jennifer Jo; a home-schooling, home-birthing, granola mother of four (who I still like anyway). Actually, I kind of love her. She is funny and real and open minded and if you like to eat great food, you should probably read her blog.
Anyways, thank you JJ for today. Not blogging gave me the time to write out three whole Christmas cards. If you happen to receive one of these gems, you should feel special. Very, very special.
I bit my five-year-old during church.
He was in a squirrely mood, and when it came time to sing some hymns, he kept jerking the hymnal out of my hand. I yanked back in my best demure yanking fashion, but everyone knows you can’t win hymnal tug-of-war and be proper at the same time, so I relinquished the book and gave the top of his head my hairiest hairy eyeball.
Not one to give up (I wanted to sing hymns, dagnabbit), I casually slung an arm over the back of his chair in a warm, motherly fashion and whispered some stern You Better Or Elses into his ear. He ignored me, so I bit him.
Immediately, I was awash in horror and shame, not because I had bitten my child—though I did feel a little bad about that—but because I was sitting in the very front of the church and someone might have seen me! I glanced around nervously, looking for saucer eyes and dropped chins, but everyone was fully engaged in worshipful behaviors, whew.
However, now I’ve gone and written about it. I just know every single fellow congregant who reads this blog will be staring at us extra hard this Sunday, wondering just when that poor boy’s viper mother will strike.
As for my son: after I bit him, he straightened up quite nicely. There was the briefest of whimpers, but he did not scream, thank goodness.
Bonus, I got the hymnal.