Sure, Blame it on Daddy

On our way to church this morning - late, but not too late - my husband asked me to read the verse we were supposed to study for Sunday School.  Since Jake is good friends with our Sunday school teacher we know we are supposed to be on our toes.

So, I'm digging around to get the verse and S1 starts kicking my seat.

"Hey, stop kicking my seat," I say over my shoulder to him.

S1, who is always so helpful and good, continued to kick my seat.

Honestly, this really surprised me.

I flipped to the Bible passage and hollered this time, "Seriously! Stop kicking my seat!"

I looked down the page to find the verse and S1 begins giggling and kicks my seat again.

"IT'S NOT FUNNY!  Quit kicking my seat!"

I could not believe he would be so rude.  Did he not see I did NOT want my seat kicked anymore?

I started reading the verse and the boy is STILL kicking my seat and giggling like crazy about it.

"HEY!"

I was all kinds of mad now.

S1 started giggling and pointing at his Daddy.  "It's not me! It's Daddy!"

Since Daddy was driving the suburban, I did not see how he figured I would buy that one.

Until we realized that the seat arm rest Jake had been playing with the whole time is what I thought was S1 kicking my seat.

S1 dissolved into uncontrollable giggles.  "I thought for sure you were gonna get me in trouble, Daddy!  I couldn't believe you wanted to make Moma so mad!!!!"

Husband is now not allowed to play with my seat arm rest.

And, yes, I apologized to S1.  Who is still giggling.

I guess we all are.