I have to clear my name...or something like that.
The story really starts on Saturday night. I was so exhausted. You know that tired that soaks into your bones? That was me. So I might have been
I lept into bed.
He lied. He stayed up until the awful hours of 11pm, but I was sound asleep by then.
When I woke up Sunday morning - early - to get potluck food ready for TWO potlucks we had that day, I told him I knew he lied to me about going to bed early the night before. And he better make it up to me.
After making up the dishes we were to take, cleaning the counters off, loading the dishwasher and starting the laundry, I made coffee and then hopped into the shower.
Side note here - We heat all our water from an outdoor wood heater. (For guys who check this blog out, check out Central Boiler. It heats our water all year long and our old farmhouse plus the separate inlaw house on our property all winter.) The day before, my wonderful, outdoorsy, tough hubby mentioned he needed to throw some wood in the fire after he got done working on his car...
Back to my story.
In the shower, I realized we had no hot water.
As in...barely lukewarm at best.
I began hollering for everyone to shut off the dishwasher and the washing machine.
It was about this time that my sweet husband asked me if I had made breakfast that morning...you know, something other than cereal.
I did not scream.
It WAS Sunday, after all.
Because it's my one super dress up day of the week, I had to shave my legs. I mean, six days a week I may be make up less in ripped jeans and a hoodie but on Sunday I like to dress up. I like heels. I like my husband to look at me and say "Yah, I married her."
I was doing a sub shower. You know, where you get wet, shut the water off, scrub up, turn the water back on to rinse... I had to do this to shave my legs. But I was so cold I had to rub my legs to get the goosebumps gone to shave my legs.
It was tricky to say the least.
When I got out of the shower, shivering, I wrapped up in my robe, dug out my biggest pots and started heating water. S3 and S4 still needed a bath because they had fallen asleep - dirty as they should be on a Saturday - before a bath could be had. So I made them an old fashioned bath, heating water and dumping it into the tub. It worked, they thought it was pretty neato.
By this point, we are running very late on time so I slipped into my jean skirt, a black silk top and my black spiky heels - I love these heels - and entered the kitchen all ready to go. Pouring some coffee in my to go cup, hubs caught a glimpse of me and began to nearly drool.
I've worn the skirt tons of times, I've worn the black silk tank with jeans just recently, I wear the heels as often as I can on Sunday's. But all together? He sent me back to change.
And here is the key part of the story...as if all the rest isn't key enough...all this time I am texting Morgan because I know we are now going to be late. I told her we were leaving and then I had to tell her I had been sent to change.
What I did NOT know is that she then shared this information with the entire class...then suddenly realized maybe she shouldn't have. A little late. But to be fair, she felt bad as soon as she declared it to the class.
Upon arriving to church (I was wearing a black t-shirt instead of the tank), I pulled off nearly running in the grass - IN SPIKED HEELS - to make it into church and usher our boys off to the new Sunday school classes. Since Morgan had told me where to find our new class, we had come up with the sneaky plan to walk around and use the old church door that would get us about right where we needed to be without hardly a soul seeing us.
The door was locked.
At this point the whole morning was so hilarious to me. The big white doors on the old 150 year old church building being locked was my undoing and I was struck with a serious case of the giggles. Here we are, attempting to sneak into church and we are locked out. After all we had done to get to class, we were stuck outside.
I couldn't stop laughing.
Hubby was dragging me along behind me as we walked in the other doors. We now had to walk through the all women's Sunday school - every woman totally became silent as he entered that room we had to walk through to get to the stairs to our class -.
We finally arrived to class, where Morgan was leaving. It was too stuffy and hot for her pregnant sister in law. And I looked around and realized that in this class, Hubs and I are going to be one of the oldest couples there. But we were invited to the class and we really are looking forward to it.
I think it'll make us stretch and grow in our day to day faith....if we can get there on time.
After Sunday school someone pulled me aside to let me know I looked nice....since I had to change and all. I got the whole story then and it just went with the day, I swear.
So I had to write this long rambling blog post basically for my new Sunday School class so they will know what really happened that day. And so they realize just what they may get having invited us old folks to the Sunday school.
It's gonna be a blast....