I fell asleep during church yesterday. I kept trying to wake myself up, especially when a violinist and vocalist came up to perform Panis Angelicus. Oh I love this piece I thought, and then I was gone again.
|Cute pictures, totally unrelated to my post today. There’s no way you’re getting a picture of me asleep in church.|
Falling asleep in church is not as good of an idea as it sounds. You don’t really fall asleep because the whole time you’re thinking. Oh my neck hurts, I can’t believe I’ve got two more hours of this, why are there so many small bones in my hands?
I’m getting worried this could be a recurrent problem as my dad started to fall asleep in church when he got to me about my age. He was even the bishop, and my mom had to send one of the younger children up to the stand to wake him up.
Near the end of church, I became ravenous. All I could think about was food, and then a whole bowl of candy just dropped out of the heavens into my lap. Sort of. My friend Kim passed it to me, but it felt like an answer to my prayer because if I had been praying, I would have asked for a mini Snickers bar. I took only one, reluctantly observing social protocol, and then passed the bowl along, watching to see if it was going to make it to a second round. Ugh! It didn’t.
I started feeling squirmy, and my leg was bouncing around, and the people sitting next to me try to be polite, but I know I was driving them crazy.
For the record, church was really good, and our marvelous teacher said a lot of things that I
wanted needed to hear. Just to prove how good church is, I want you to know I pay far better attention to church than I did to my classes in college. Those were the good old days when things were so simple, when I only had three things I had to do.
1. Go to class and not listen.
2. Chase boys.
3. Open my book the night before test and read it until exam time.
After I got home from church, I ran downstairs to our storage room chanting, “Oh please let there be another bag of chips, please let there be another bag of chips.”
Again, my sort of prayers were answered. I tore them open and started eating them as I walked up the stairs, and we wonder why we have to vacuum all the time.
We pulled out the hummus and salsa, and Deborah and Ricky and I just went to town. I learned something very profound about chips. When you eat them, you go straight from starving to sick. You never hit that nice middle ground of satiation. I really thought I was going to lose it when I saw Ricky swipe his hand all they way around the hummus bowl and then lick his hands. We were animals.
Later I crashed on our couch in front of our fireplace. The captain was wanting to know what to do with the sweet potatoes that were in the oven. I asked him if he could whip them up and tried to sleep with the beaters going full force in the kitchen.
“What else are we going to eat?” the captain asked.
“I think there’s some roast turkey in the fridge,” I said before falling asleep again.
“The turkey is pink and green and slimy.”
“Did you smell it?” I asked. There was always the possibility we could still feed it to the kids.
“I’m not smelling it.”
“Fine,” I said as I finally got myself out of the couch and went foraging in our freezer.
Hallelujah! I found some cooked Costco steak.
Man, I love that Costco, that is until I tried to reheat the steak in the frying pan. It dropped out in one huge mass. I have got to quit forgetting to close the outside freezer.