This was my husband's drill weekend for Army Reserves. Mommy doesn't like drill weekend. Daddy is gone and the kids always decide to see if they can make the veins in Mommy's neck turn blue and poke out as she "whispers" to them in church.
We got to church late (see: drill weekend), and because there are so many of us, there was no place to sit inside the chapel. So we're crowded on the couch in the foyer and I am alternately chasing after little ones and giving the stink eye to the big ones for not helping. I was NOT in a loving, kind, patient, motherly type of mood. I was in a "will you sit down and stop touching each other and NO you cannot eat that and for the love of Pete I will clock each and every one of you if you don't start behaving" mood.
Then, because God is just that cruel, the gentleman that teaches an early morning scripture study class I attend walks by. He has never met my family before, so he stops and wants to visit and say hello. Trying to be friendly and engage my kids, he says: "So, how is she for a mom??"
They. All. Just. Sat. There.
Like deers in the headlights. Fake little smiles plastered on their faces. You know, the look like when you take a huge bite of something repugnant and then the cook wants your honest opinion on whether or not you liked it??
Finally my 9 year old piped up: "She's....goooood???"
Oh, yeah. You heard me right. HE PHRASED IT AS A QUESTION.
Bad, bad mommy day.