I've been telling Krazyglue that I'm tired. Beyond tired, really. First it was a week of testing for two of my kids that necessitated daily trips downtown. Then we went to the Midwest Fleadh in Detroit, where sessions last all night and into the morning. I was so looking forward to getting rest when Stand-up's diabetes showed its ugly side with high blood sugars and "No Delivery" pump alarms in the middle of the night, not once, but twice in one week! So is it any wonder...
That I found myself at the Vigil Mass last Saturday wearing these: mismatched shoes. I only noticed shortly after getting into the pew. After having walked in late, during the first reading. Into a church shaped in a semi-circle. Ahem. I immediately stuck one foot partially under the kneeler in hopes no one would notice my gaffe. I actually considered -- for a fleeting moment -- not going to Communion, so as to avoid my mis-clad feet being seen.
The worst part was when I pointed out my shoes to my dd, Little Miss whispered, "You did that yesterday [at morning Mass], too. That's why I was giving you that look." The eyebrows raised, grimacing, "What. Is. Up. With. You???" look. I don't know which was worse, that I was in a church with 1500 people with mis-matched shoes on, or that I'd been at Mass the day before, with only 100 or so, but that I'd socialized after Mass, including stopping off in the sacristy. And that I'd never ever noticed my faux pas!
It was humbling to say the least. I think I know how I did it, that is, how I put the wrong shoes on in the first place. But I'm not going to explain. I'm just going accept my place in the Humble Moms Club.
Did I tell you I was tired?
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
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