It is another RAINY Sunday. The Boy is in the basement because he really wants to go fishing. I pointed out two things to him: 1. It is dark. 2. It is raining. Neither of these seem to make a dent. I also threw in the extra fact that Mama doesn't fish. I do a lot of things but fishing isn't one of them. I've fished a couple of times and found it to be wet and smelly, and besides, I'd rather hike than fish.
The household is currently down by 50%. The Husband is rocking night church and the Boy and I are home waiting for the Girl to return. She got let out of jail by a friend, and has spent the day away from us. We'd hoped she'd get home in time for night church, but apparently they are having too much fun. So now, we await her return. The Husband might get home before she does which means we could've gone to church anyway! Oh, well.
The Husband is pretty much beat on Sunday nights. He usually leads church in the morning -- sometimes for four services, and then takes a brief zombie nap, before heading out to night church. Lately, the kids and I have been going to night church and sleeping in the mornings. The Girl is experiencing pre-teen exhaustion, and rousing her in the morning is no small feat. I like night church anyway. The pastor preaches really practical sermons that aren't very long -- which is good for my short-attention span.
The Boy keeps wandering around from room to room, sighing. He's bored, he tells me, but rejects all my suggestions. He is depressed because we are currently out of milk, and I won't go to the store until his Sister returns home. He's being asked to wait, and it's "killing him." I can relate. I'm not good at waiting either. I always want problems to be fixed immediately, and unknowns to be answered before bedtime. Tragically, life doesn't always work out that way. Sometimes we have to endure slow, Sunday nights waiting to see what's next.