Broad is the Way

There really isn't another way to put this other than to say that I fear I am leading my little boy to hell. 

Example #1

Saturday morning, when he and I drove into the church parking lot to go to the Christmas breakfast, Jack started screaming "Buh Bye; Buh Bye; BUH BYE" when he realized that we were at church. Usually when he uses said phrase in such a way it means something to the effect of "get me out of here." 

Sunday morning (lest we think what happened Saturday was an isolated incident), as we arrived at church, the same scene was repeated. As soon as Jack realized we were pulling into the church parking lot, he started screaming "Buh Bye" at the top of his lungs. 

I haven't done anything to encourage this sort of behavior, but I can't truthfully say that I feel much differently than the kid does when I pull into the church parking lot myself. I suppose that it is also true that I don't always put up a fight when Jack needs to be taken out of church, especially when I am the one who has to take him out (which I embrace as my personal responsibility). I guess that the apple doesn't fall from the tree. 

Example #2

This weekend has been quite a bruiser for us because our furniture and belongings arrived from New York. Consequently, we have had the pleasure of packing up and moving out our borrowed/temporary furnishings, and moving-in, unpacking, and organizing our own furnishings. 

As an aside, I can't believe what a brutal move it has been. How is it--I am still wondering--that we can have gained 500 square feet of living space and be having such a bear of a time getting our stuff to fit comfortably? I guess it just goes to show what a great place we had in New York, and what genius went into its organization (I wish I could take credit, but I can't). 

Anyway, our place was such a mess, and our energy levels ebbed at such a low yesterday evening, that we decided to go out for dinner instead of unpacking boxes of dishes/utensils and then cleaning off the table for a place to eat, even though it happened to be the day of rest. We ended up going out for Chinese food. 

Sabbath observance issues aside, the real rub came when Jack looked at a statuette of the Buddah, pointed at it, and said "Jesus." I thought it was hysterical, but I don't think that my lovely wife did. I think the good Lord will forgive me, but I'm not sure she will.