I have a small paper due tomorrow and it took all the will power in me to start typing on it. I really hate doing ANYTHING school related on a Sunday afternoon. But alas, yesterday was spent celebrating the birth of our son Paul, so naturally, I put the paper off.
So there I was (like every good story starts) sitting on the couch typing away when I heard a horrid scream coming from Anna. The poor child had put her hand in a bowl of scalding hot soup. How? well, Roger and I are exhausted and didn't feel like doing the whole dinner round up so I made a big pot of vegetable soup and we are feeding the kids as they ask. He had just filled a bowl of hot soup up for Anna and somehow she managed to fall over, putting her hand in the bowl. SCREAM.
Welp. There goes the paper writing. I have a poor little girl with a burnt hand.
Roger is currently running to the store to get little kid pain meds. (we had run out apparently. wonderful timing. I know, we ROCK!) Anna has finally calmed down from screaming bloody murder and I am laughing at the fact that while she was screaming I, feeling helpless, totally asked "would you like for me to pray?" I blame the chaplain internship. She simply looked at me puzzled and started screaming EVEN LOUDER.
Oh Sunday afternoon. The afternoon in every week that I feel as if I have been hit in the face with a 2x4.
This journey of life that we are on is so strange, but I am beyond thankful that I have someone like Mr Roger Jasper to journey along with me.
Alrighty then, I guess I best get back to typing out that paper..... and doing the laundry..... and tending to the kids. Oh Christ have mercy.