{Post Sunday Lament}

Dear Church Family,

I'm sorry that my son smuggled three round crackers from the coffee cart into the sanctuary and that he silently nibbled at them during the prelude until they made perfect, "fourths" shaped pieces. We're studying fractions, you know.

I'm sorry that he propped up his feet on the top of the chair in front of him and that I had to give him fiery glances to strongly yet silently urge that he do otherwise. He was likely admiring his new shoes.

I'm sorry that it took him an entire minute to sip his communion cup and that he brazenly wiggled his eyebrows while doing so. He only gets grape juice once a month.

I'm sorry that he hurdled across five aisles after the service and that he again stealthily visited the coffee cart, this time in pursuit of thin red straws. He must have anticipated that our own supply was lacking.

I draw these transgressions to your attention, hopeful that you will deal ever so kindly with your wayward lambs.

Sincerely,

A Fellow (Reformed) Straw Smuggler and Grape Juice Enthusiast