I’m not sure why Brock chooses church as his platform for insanity, but it seems like every single week he does or says something that makes me want to laugh or kill him.
This past Sunday was no exception. We arrived, of course, a few minutes late.
Semi-unrelated side note: Before I had kids I was painfully early to everything (thankyouverymuch, dad). Literally. School started at 8:00 and I was there, most mornings, by at least 7:30. Church starts at 11:00 and my parents live (no kidding) 2 minutes from church. However, on Sunday mornings, we left the house at 10:30 so we could get “the good seats”. Did I mention that we always sat in the back pew? It would literally make me so sick with anxiety to be late for things. So before I popped out my sweet little angels, I swore that having kids wouldn’t change that.
My oh my, how naive I was! I swear, if we are less than 10 minutes late for something, it is a miracle!
Where was I going with this? Oh yes! We were (as usual) a few minutes late for church and we snuck in and sat on the very last pew which provides a nice, smooth exit for beating my child Brock’s potty breaks without disrupting the entire service.
Second semi-unrelated side note: Brock is obsessed with all things health-care. He is forever telling me to say “ahhhhh” because he wants to look at my “froat”.
He was stealing my stethoscope on such a regular basis, we ended up buying him one of his own. And not a plastic, Fischer Price one, he has a real stethoscope. (Relax! Greg bought it at a garage sale for $1). He loves that thing! He wears it and listens to our heart & lungs. He is so thoughtful–he even blows on it to “warm” it up before it touches it to our skin!
Just this past winter when I had the flu, he asked me what was wrong. I told him I was sick and he said, “Iss oky. I a doctor, mommy. I make eww feew bettew.”
Greg is pumped that Brock “wants” to be a doctor. Me, not so much. You see, I work with doctors all day long and I’m not convinced that I want my son to be subjected to that world. Maybe one day, I’ll go deeper into that topic, but for now just trust me when I say it can & does get ugly on a very regular basis.
Back to church. (I swear, this story is almost over) We are sitting there attempting to listen to the preacher give his sermon about how we need to get involved. How we, as members of the church, need to take charge of our faith and witness to people and to tell them what awaits them in heaven. Somewhere in there, the preacher said “doctrine”
At which point, Brock gasps and said, “Oooo! Him’s a doctow?!”
::Sigh:: It’s just so much easier to nod and smile at him than try to explain the difference between doctrine and doctorin’. Maybe after his 3rd birthday we will begin to tackle those topics.