Sunday

James and I have not been able to sit together in church for a full service in a year. I'll just say Lila has some matters of preference regarding the order of worship. Her "preferences" usually end in one of us making a mad dash to get out of the sanctuary before someone decides we should be asked not to return.

But, today, my friends, things were different. Well, sort of...

Guess who went to the church nursery for the first time!!


The service started as usual. Happy baby until the opening song began, and then the screaming started. This time it was because her sister was looking at her.

I quickly passed her to James (because he had a lapse in judgment and ended up sitting on the end of the pew). He received the hand-off and ran out of the sanctuary like a trained professional athlete in a sprint relay.

This time instead of spending the morning in the "Training Room" with all of the other screaming children, we decided to take the leap and put our baby in the care of professionals.

We dropped her off in the nursery together and proudly walked back to our seats. As soon as we sat down, I jumped right back up and headed straight for the nursery.

So, I still didn't hear a sermon, but at least I didn't have the embarrassment of running through church with a yelling kid...

Truth-be-told, I was humiliated for an entirely different reason. The kind of humiliation that could only be felt if you were busted sprawled out on the foyer floor with your face pressed against the nursery window watching your baby and crying uncontrollably.

I think we might skip the nursery next week.

Just another day embarrassing the family & Being Billingsley...