Sunday, June 14, 2009

No shoes, no shirt, no problem

I had to teach Sunday school today, so I was dressed and ready to leave the house by 8:00 a.m., which, believe me, is a miracle. On top of that, my son was dressed in a shirt that was button correctly and was not on backwards or inside out. Miracles never cease!

As I get ready to walk out the door to pick up my daughter from a friend’s house on the way to church, I tell my son to put his shoes on. He immediately gets a “deer in the headlights” look on his face. He has no idea where his church shoes are. Granted, in his defense, we’ve spent most Sundays at the lake, and he hasn’t really needed them.

So, the first place he looks is the closet that once contained a special shoe sorter. The one I bought to keep them organized and their shoes out of the middle of the floor. The one I made a big deal about. The one they never used, so I finally moved six months ago.

“Where’s the shoe holder?” he asked.

“Look in the armoire,” I said.

“The what?”

“The big piece of furniture in the middle of the room.”

He walks in and looks right at it and declares, “I can’t find it.”

Not his shoes, mind you, but the armoire.

Around this time, my daughter calls. She’s forgotten to pack her church shoes. Can I bring them?

“Okay, son, look in the downstairs closet, and I’ll look up in your room. Hurry, we’ve got 10 minutes.”

I walk into his room, pick up his shoes from the middle of the floor where he left them and come downstairs to see that, in his desperate search, he’s pulled everything out of the closet. All the while, I’m on the phone with my daughter who's trying to figure out exactly where her shoes are. Finally, she calls back and remembers that they are under her dresser. I swear that was just a lucky guess.

Meanwhile, my son is frantically attempting to cram his size 4 foot into a size 2 shoe. Not going to happen.

“Where are your tennis shoes?” I said. “Just wear them.”

He shoots me the same blank look, except this time there is a little more fear in his eyes.

“Forget it,” I said. “Just wear your sandals.”

After all, isn’t that what Jesus would do?

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