Rescue

 This Sunday, I was getting ready to lead the music at the front of the chapel just as the prelude music was ending, when I once again took notice of the empty bench that Haven was saving for our family.  I had come early with Dallin and Haven.  Jeff and the younger kids were just minutes behind us, but they had not yet arrived.

Then it hit me.  I had taken Jeff’s keys, since I was driving his car, but had not left my own keys behind.  It was possible there was a spare he could use, but I wasn’t sure, and that empty bench seemed to call out otherwise.

I felt terrible as I envisioned my family stranded at home-- all dressed up with no place to go.  I considered darting from the chapel and racing home to get them, but no, it was time for the opening hymn.  After the song, I once again considered making a quick getaway, but before I could act, it was time for the next hymn.  I led that song too, then raced outside to check my phone-- a message.  From Harrison.

 “Oh, hi, Mom?  Do you think you could bring us some keys so we could get to church?  Ok, thanks, bye.”  Funny kid. 

I called, no answer.

I drove home.  The house was empty.

I did notice Lydia’s sandals were on the stairs, and the umbrella stroller was gone, but not the double stroller.  They were walking.  Even Lydia.

I drove the route I thought they would take, but didn’t find them.  I drove back along a slightly different route.  Still, no luck. 

Finally, after a short prayer, they appeared up the road in front of me, about a mile and a half from home-- a beautiful family in their Sunday best-- Lydia in tennis shoes and socks.

I helped them get loaded in the car while I apologized to them for taking their keys.  They cheerfully commented that they got to eat blackberries, and Lydia said, “You rescued us!” 

They were a pretty cheerful group for having spent the last thirty minutes on a long, hot walk.  Incidentally, today Jeff took my two booster seats in his car to work. 

“Ha ha, we’ll see how she likes this!”

Very Pink

 

My brother once said to me, "If it's not on sale, it's not for sale."  I am that kind of girl.  I am not drawn to measly 30% clearance signs.  I feel so insulted that the store takes a couple bucks off the price, calls it a clearance sale, and expects you to trip over yourself getting there before everything's gone.  But the other day I was drawn to the real clearance rack at Target-- the 50% clearance rack.  It seemed to be like a blinking green traffic light-- blinking to get my attention, and green, calling "buy, buy!"  (Not the blinking yellow arrows that have popped up everywhere, and no one is sure exactly what they mean-- are they just the same as a solid green light-- left turns yielding to through traffic, but just more annoying like people dancing with Liberty Tax and Little Ceasars Pizza signs?  But I digress.)

I rifled through these on-sale, thus for-sale clothes, and came across  this dress-- cute, check.  Flowers, check.  Lydia's size, check. " Lydia, do you like this dress?"

"No.  It's not very. . . pink."

Fair point.  Now adding very pink to my checklist.