Really, Shouldn't a Mother of Six Know Better?

Okay, so this photo might be a bit graphic for some of you...discretion is advised.

With that said...here's a story of a mother who should've known better. Sunday's are tough days here at the Brundage household. We have nine oclock church, so Saturdays are spent preparing ourselves for that....getting out church clothes, laying out shoes and socks (because they really will go missing unless you get them out on Saturday evening), bathing, washing and drying hair, grocery shopping, etc., etc. The primary song has never been more appropriate than it is at this stage in my little family's life. This Saturday, we spent the day at the temple....which was wonderful...and terrible. The wonderful part was the three hours Joe and I got to spend in the temple while Young Women from our ward watched our children...great...amazing. The terrible part was getting both to and from the temple. I won't go into details as I'm sure you can all imagine the mayhem involved in transporting six children 500 miles in the space of twelve hours. You've been there...you know what I'm talking about.

So, we got home around nine p.m., prepped for church and fell into bed.

In the morning, things went smoothly, the children were cooperative and actually put down their wii-motes nicely when it was time to hit the road. (BTW...new Super Mario Brothers game is AWESOME!!!). At the last minute, Charlie asked for some hot chocolate. This is the part where my training as a mother seems to have failed me...maybe I've become too cocky...maybe I think my skills are better than they actually are, but for some reason, I agreed to his request. We love hot chocolate at our house. We keep it out in canisters on the counter, and have a little machine that heats up the water really quickly. We even keep Styrofoam cups with lids on hand so spills are not as likely. Even though it's literally 80 degrees at my house today, my kids will all want a cup when they arrive home from school in a few minutes. So I mixed up Charlie's hot chocolate and told him to get in the car and buckle his seat belt, at which time I would hand it to him. He did as he was asked, and the transfer was successful. Everyone else loaded in and we started to drive to church. Then, we realized that Joe and Maggie were sharing a seat in the middle row of the car. Maggie had already been promised the coveted "middle" seat and was not happy with Joe encroaching on her territory. We told him to get in the back as we were driving and then we heard the "uh-oh".
"What?" Joe and both exclaimed.
Joe said, "Don't worry...I just bumped Charlie and he spilled his hot chocolate a little bit."
"How much is a little bit?" I inquired.
"Not much...if he pulls his sweater down, no one will even notice." Joe replied.

Time was short so we decided to power on and get to church. Joe had to play the piano in Sacrament meeting so we didn't want to turn around and be late. We were reassured by our son that it was "just a little bit...no big deal."

(I am realizing how long this story is becoming, and I promise you, the payoff is not that great...just a warning.)

At any rate, we got to church, started piling out of the car,and I had almost forgotten about the hot chocolate incident. (What with all the arguing about what song we would listen to on the way going on). But as Charlie climbed out of the car, I gasped at what I saw:



Now, in what world is this just a "little bit" of hot chocolate? And in what world could this "little bit" of hot chocolate spread on Charlie's pants in such a perfect imitation of a diarrhea accident? I mean, did Joe think the sweater vest would stretch to cover his knees?!? Joe and I made a quick decision, placed Charlie directly in front of us and walked him into church...sheilding his pants from view. After Sacrament meeting, I considered taping a sign on his back that said, "Don't worry, it's just hot chocolate", but took pity on him and drove him home for a fresh change of clothes. So, crisis somewhat averted and lessons learned, and Charlie was sure a good sport through it all.

Unrelately, later in the day, John took himself to the bathroom and actually did have diarrhea. He didn't call for help and pulled his pants up without even an attempt to clean himself, and returned to playing with his trucks. When I came downstairs a few minutes later, I was greeted with a replica of Charlie's pants from earlier in the day. Unfortunately, this was the real deal. Fortunately, I didn't take a picture.

So now it's on to Thanksgiving and Christmas light hanging and Christmas tree decorating. Happy Thanksgiving to all...I hope your day is as blessed as I'm sure mine will be!