Dude, Where’s Your Pants?

We were on time. And getting to church on time is not a given for our family. But lately Esther and the boys have been doing better at getting themselves dressed. Gabe was the first one last Sunday. I was proud of him. He came out wearing his red fleece pants (not my choice for church but he picked them) and had matched his Lightening McQueen shirt to them too. After everyone else was dressed we actually made it on time. We were pretty excited about it too…until we released them to the childcare and once we saw them walk away we realized Gabe actually looked more the slob than a pinnacle of autonomy. I had not fixed his month-over-due-haircut-bedhead hair or wiped the now dried pancake syrup off his face. A little embarrassed, we looked at each other, shrugged and said, “We’re on time.”

Hours later after lunch, I take Gabe to the bathroom and realize he’s not wearing any underwear. “Dude, where’s your pants? Did you put any on this morning?” Nope. I quickly found out he never put any on. He “changed his underwear” but didn’t put any others on. Since he and Micah are still potty training, I knew I had been caught and had just become that Mom. I rarely care what people think. In fact, what others may think of me is not even on my radar until they say something. But I couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed that I didn’t quality check his whole-hearted effort. He is still only three.

Note to self: Have a wet paper towel in hand while double checking each kid as they go through the door.