Sunday Obligation

If you have to spend part of Mass at the checkout counter of the local pharmacy... does it still count?

Let me 'splain....

We arrived at Mass this morning, after driving through a mild torrent of rain and, having employed a small army of umbrellas, we managed to get everyone inside with only a few stray drops tagging along. Ignoring Husband's protestations, I took BigBoy and told Husband to enjoy a nice, quiet Father's Day Mass. I settled into the back of the church with my precious child and prepared myself for a slightly wiggly, but mostly uneventful Mass. I was even a little pleased when I saw that Fr. J. would be the main celebrant for the day. Fr. J. was my philosophy professor in college and I have long since outgrown the overwhelming urge to fall asleep at the sound of his voice. (Having a wiggly 3 year old in your arms helps! : ) We were surely in for a rockin' good homily!

The beginning of Mass was punctuated by the usual fussing and squirming. The first reading was punctuated by a pungent smell. BigBoy had filled his diaper. (Yes, the potty train is still stuck in the train yard. Thanks for asking.)

Of course I had left the diaper bag in the car. I didn't want it to get wet! (Wait...it gets better.) So we grabbed an umbrella and headed to the van. BigBoy promptly climbed into position on the floor of the van and I grabbed the diaper bag.

No diapers.

Now, we won't say who used the last one without refilling the bag because... well, it's Father's Day. But the fact that the bag was empty couldn't be changed. The fact that the rain had picked up considerably since we had first entered the church also couldn't be changed. And since BigBoy had assumed the position on the floor of the van and I had to use the umbrella to shield him while also futilely searching through the empty diaper bag, the fact that the tilted umbrella had dumped a gallon on water on my backside sadly... could also not be changed.

At this point, I should have just headed back into Mass with my damp derriere and spent the rest of the hour drip drying, but this was one of those diapers.

It. could. not. wait.

So I trudged back into church to collect my purse from the foyer. No, I didn't take it with me... I didn't want it to get wet!!

I realized that I needed to go get some diapers but that meant taking BigBoy with me which would require him to sit in the car seat.

Did I mention it was one of those diapers?

I used the wet wipes in the diaper bag (which were actually pretty dry compared to my backside) to clean up what I could, then put the dirty diaper lined with the remaining wipes back on the kiddo who responded with a very supportive "Thank you dearest Mother for all your sufferings and sacrifices." which sounded like "Eeeewwwwwww!" to the untrained ear.

We headed back into the deluge for the fourth time now with purse and umbrella (although it was pretty pointless by this time) and into the van with prayers that Husband wouldn't try to come find me for the old "toddler switcheroo" at Communion. Down to the first place I could find that sold diapers, out into the rain again, both of us squishing down the aisles and then back to the counter where the perky blond comedian-with-a-day-job says "Ya'll stay dry out there!" as I turned on my soggy heel and headed out the door.

I quickly changed BigBoy using the back door of the van as a kind of shelter from the gawking stares, questions regarding my sanity and concerns for my child's safety that were coming from the heathens motoring by because by this time, my skirt was stuck to my backside like Cling Wrap (thank goodness I remembered to wear a slip!) We waited for the rest of the gang back in the parking lot with a plastic baggie on the driver's seat (I didn't want it to get wet!!!) and my shoes on the arms of the captain's chairs drying in the breeze of the AC.

"What happened to you?" Husband asked sympathetically.

Deep breath.

Let me 'splain....