Recently we watched the Pearson's children. At dinner, Tyler Pearson started, "My mommy says . . . " and then he paused.
I turned to Jenny and said, "Oh, this is going to be good. Anything after a kid says 'my mommy says' is entertaining."
Today in church several people approached me with, "The cat's out of the bag, Brother McGregor, we know what you do on Sundays now."
Apparently, someone in Primary asked the children what their families did to keep the Sabbath Day holy. Madison's response? "Go to restaurants."
In reality, I don't think we've gone to a restaurant on a Sunday a single time since we've been married. When traveling, we just prepare food ahead of time. But it reminded me of those things I say, those things I do, and those songs I sing (C'mon, it's just convenient that so many words rhyme with bodily waste matter--the kids think it's funny . . . Mom, not so much), that will sometime soon end up in front of a class, a congregation, or a teacher via my children's mouth. I hope I don't have to brace myself when my child starts, "My daddy says . . . . "
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