Mornings always run smoothly at this household.
Especially Sunday mornings.
Zeke would never run out of his room screaming from abdominal pain at 6am.
Nope, that's not in the plan.
He would not whine and complain about his tummy for the next 2 hours while I try to prepare my heart to help lead worship at a new church and get ready for the day. All while encouraging him to "go sit on the potty and try to poopie because you'll feel MUCH better."
Nope, not me!
But, knowing that Zeke is NOT a drama KING I would certainly take his fussiness seriously as pain, and not constipation.
I mean, really, who ever mixes those two up?!
I'm so glad these kinds of mornings never happen in my house because my lack of medicine would probably make me very irritable, cranky and irrational. And I'm just NOT like that.
Nope, not me! Especially on Sunday mornings.
Since we decided that nothing was progressing in any shape or form with our dear little Zeke, we decided we could all still make our appearance at church. So, we hop in the Yukin and make our exit.
Everything was totally normal after we left. Yup. Zeke would never get so worked up in the back seat that he would throw up all over himself and the car, just 20 minutes down the road.
Oh no. I would never put "throwing up on the way to church" on MY to-do list.
But I'm sure if this were to ever happen to my sweet son, after arriving at church, he would gracefully sit calmly in the front row while Josh and I get set up to play.
After all, he had just gotten sick.
He would never just turn a switch on inside and start bouncing off the walls, getting into things that he shouldn't get into, hopping off the stage and running around the sanctuary with the VBS decorations strung around his neck.
Nope, not my son! Not my morning! Not me!