We’re Still In Our Pajamas

And we may stay in them all day.  Because Sunday?  It wore us out.  Let me clarify.  It wore Mama out.

We’re late sleepers here at the Tater house.  I’ll eventually go back to work, so I know my days of sleeping in are numbered, so I’m milking it for all it’s worth.  Tater Tot normally sleeps until around 8 or 8:30, or on a good day it’s 9:00, and I roll out of bed when I hear him stirring.  Yesterday, we were up at 7:30, a definite shock to both of our systems.  Mine was in a state of near collapse since I woke up at around 2 and never quite went back to sleep.

By 9:00 Sunday morning Tater Tot and I were on our way to go to church, again, with Poopsie.  I was not going to miss this Sunday for anything.  Dr. Reginald Mallett was speaking.  Dr. Mallett is from England and has been visiting our church every four years for the last 34 years.  He has a huge ministry in America and the UK in addition to being a medical doctor, you know, in his spare time.  He’s just an incredible man, and he and his wife have an uncanny ability to remember everyone they’ve ever met.  By name.  We had them for Sunday dinner once when I was a child, and my mother served stuffed peppers.  He liked them so much that I called him “Dr. Pepper.”  Yesterday morning I happened to see him as Tater Tot and I walked in the sanctuary.  I stopped and said, “Dr. Mallett, I’m so-and-so,” and he said, “Oh, yes.  Please, now, call me Dr. Pepper.”   Seriously, HOW do people do that?  Sometimes I can’t remember Tater Daddy’s real name.

Anyway, Tater Tot made it through about 23 seconds of church before he started proving to everyone that he is two-years-old.  I would really like for him to learn to sit through church, but I don’t think that learning to do it at his age is going to benefit ANY of us.  After gathering up all 83 of his arms and legs, I crawled over half the pew and staggered to the other building and deposited him into the nursery.  He was as happy as a clam.

After church we at lunch at a restaurant with a buffet where the contents are completely out a child’s reach. Except for the desserts.  Therefore, Tater Tot helped himself to red velvet cake, chocolate cake, and lemon pound cake.  Poopsie thought that was adorable.  We managed to get some fried chicken and green beans in him in between bites of cake.  And then he spied banana pudding, which Poopsie declared to be his serving of fruit for the day.  Ain’t nothin’ like a two-year-old gearing up for a sugar high, folks.

Believe it or not, the little fellow took a nap shortly after lunch, but it was cut short by a call from Tater Daddy, saying he had decided to drive out to his folks’ farm for the afternoon.  In other words, bring Tater Tot out to the country.  We got ourselves together and drove out to my in-laws’ house, where Tater Tot immediately spotted Pawpaw’s tractor.  All of us– Pawpaw, Gammy, his Daddy and I — took turns sitting in the tractor with him until he told us to get down and then called for the next “rider.”  

After that, it was time to check the cows.  The fellas rode in the cab and Gammy and I rode in the back. You know how when you’re a child, there’s plenty of room on the truck bed’s “seat?” (The part of the truck that goes over the rear wheels.)  Yeah…not so much when you’re an adult.  Nonetheless, we managed to stay seated, and Tater Tot saw the moos, helped Pawpaw drive, and had a wonderful time.

Back at the house, we ran.  In all directions.  Tater Tot got pushed in the swing.  He looked at the mule, Trooper, who might just be the ugliest animal I’ve seen in a long time.  

Because I am a glutton for punishment, I dressed our little man for church again and hauled him back to town.  We met Poopsie and went to the potluck supper at 6:00.  Let me just state, for the record, that the Methodists did not disappoint.  Fried chicken, casseroles of every kind, homemade pies….Oh. Have. Mercy. It’s enough to make me want to move back home and never leave again.  Judging by how much Tater Tot ate, I think it would suit him just fine.  He couldn’t get enough of the potato casserole and homemade strawberry cake.  He is a boy after his Mama’s heart.

Much to my horror, a nursery was not provided for the evening service.  Thus, on we trudged to the sanctuary for some music before the worship service.  I only had to take him out once, but we nearly had to have our own little “Come to Jesus” over not stealing toys from the church.  At least we know that we have a budding kleptomaniac on our hands and can deal with it early….

After that, he actually enjoyed the music.  He clapped and said, “Yay!”  But by the time it was over, I knew I’d stretched him to his limits and that the chances of him making it another 30 minutes were slim.  I hated to miss Dr. Mallett’s sermon, but I also hated to ruin it for everyone else.  So we slipped out.  We hugged Poopsie goodbye and made our way home.

About 10 minutes into our hour-long drive back to Memphis, Tater Tot started screaming for me to roll down the windows and open the sunroof.  Um, no.  Not on the interstate at 70 mph or so.  He tested me for about 8 miles and then gave up.  About 15 miles from home, the little stinker fell asleep.  

Folks, I was wo’ out by the time I carried him inside our house.  I put Tater Tot in his PJs and we were off to bed in no time.  We’ve been up for a good while now.  But we’re still in our jammies, recovering from a busy day.


3 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Calista
    Oct 13, 2008 @ 20:16:05

    I just love it when they fall asleep as you pull into your subdivision. They’re sure to be a pleasure for at least an hour after that……enjoy your rest.


  2. Lora Lynn
    Oct 13, 2008 @ 21:42:25

    If you really do want to teach him to sit through service, feel free to email me. I’ve got tips. But nobody says he has to sit through the service, so no pressure. 🙂 Sounds like a big day!


  3. All Rileyed Up
    Oct 13, 2008 @ 22:21:04

    I’m tired just from reading that. My son always wants to open the windows and sunroof on the freeway too. What’s up with that?


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