Action

Every Sunday, we sit on the second row in the chapel. It's kind of a tricky spot, but we started sitting up there years ago, and haven't ventured further back so far. Mainly, it's easier for my kids to be good if they can't see everyone else being bad.

However, there are drawbacks. When somebody has to go out (which is rarely allowed -- seriously, the kids all know they're pretty much going to have to pee their pants before I let them leave in the middle of the meeting), there is no such thing as sneaking out quietly when you block the view of the speaker by standing up. Well, I block the view when I stand up. Or, when I get a touch overzealous in my disciplining, everyone can see that too. There's nothing more embarrassing than a kid convulsing on the bench while yelling, "OWW!!! YOU'RE HURTING ME MOM STOP GRABBING MY LEG IT'S KILLING ME OH MY HECK!!!" That may have happened a couple of times. Today.

Spen was sitting on my lap during the meeting this afternoon and demonstrated a previously-unknown drawback. He wanted to give me a kiss, so he puckered up and I leaned over . . . and he kissed . . . and kissed . . . and kissed . . . and the whole thing got awkwardly long. He thought it was hilarious and I kind of did too. Until I started wondering what the rest of the congregation was thinking.

"Oh, look how sweet. Spen wants to kiss his mom."

"So cute."

"Still cute."

"Wow."

"Kind of veering into Not So Cute, More Like Creepy territory."

"Holy whip."

"Somebody is going to pass out."

"It might be me."