Last night as we sat down to dinner, strangely enough, I remembered grace. Usually Hubby is the one who reminds us of this important act of gratitude to God. I am, rather, the last one to sit down, preoccupied with getting dinner on the table and into small and cool enough pieces for the kids, arranged just to their liking on the right color plate, because, let’s face it, once I do finally sit, I don’t want to deal with meal time meltdowns!
Hubby just happened to be out again, catering to some snobby snob clients who don’t get home from The City until after 7:00pm and need the world to revolve around them, of course. Such is the life of a Contractor’s Wife. In his absence, and in light of my momentary and fleeting memory for all things religious, I began with the Sign of the Cross.
Princess: (watching me carefully and mirroring my actions chimes in) “…. the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spi…rit. Aaaaamen”
themommykelly: “Good girl! Great job, Sweetheart!”
Princess: (without waiting for me to start the prayer): “Bless us OOOOO, Lord and these gifts… which we are ’bout to seeve from Christ our Lord. Amen”
Drama Queen: “AAAmen!!!” (thinking the whole time) “Let’s eat already!”
I guess they have been paying attention!
Cute! Tim likes it best when we sing grace, tho’ we usually have to sing quite fast to keep up with him.
No dirges round here.