A Self-Deprecating Story

This morning I wore socks that didn't match to church. And as I was putting them on I said to myself, "Well, they're close enough. They are both black and if anyone has enough time and energy to stare at my feet long enough to discover that they don't match, then they deserve the reward of discovering that they don't. I got interrupted from my train of thought, slipped on my shoes and was off to help someone find something or button something or break up a fight or some other wonderful chore I have on Sunday mornings.

I made it through Sunday School and all but 10 minutes of the second service without giving another thought to my socks. After all, I had resolved the issue in my head. Until it was time for our prayer circle and I heard my usually stoic son, Leon, chuckling and looked at him and he had a big smile on his face. We were supposed to be praying, so I whispered "What's up?" at which point in time he pointed down to my feet. I looked down and realized for the first time that not only were my socks not matching, but my shoes did not match either.

He got the biggest kick out of it. And I had to laugh myself as well.

Then, just as I thought we were going to make it to the end of the service without more drama, Dominyk turned sideways during the benediction and saw that Tony had left a few minutes early to secure the prized front seat of the van. In a panic he runs not to the back of the church, but sprints across the front of the church, slipping through a door in the front that leads to the area behind the podium. I just laughed and shook my head. What more could I do?