In case my husband Facebooks this, I wanted to get the real story in writing...because I like to think was justified!
Back Story: Around bedtime tonight, Sleestack whines and whines for me to put her to bed. I explain many times that she has to actually get ready for bed before I can put her in it. Her father is trying to help her with this but she keeps crying and yelling for Mom to put her to bed. Ack.
She is finally ready and asks me to change her pajama shirt because there is some undetectable something in the elbow that is causing her great pain.
Fine.
She is finally in the bed, and I'm sent to get her water.
I sing her choice of song.
It's time for her to pray and she's suddenly forgotten how and I am out of patience. Normal people would probably just say the prayer for the child. Do I? No. I'm sick of being ordered around by a two-year-old.
Me: You're not going to pray?
Sleestack: I don't know how.
Me: Seriously? Fine. Then we won't pray. (I walk to the light and turn it off. No response from Sleestack. She's successfully called my bluff.) Sleestack, just say the beginning.
Sleestack: I don't know how. You have to help me.
Me: Just say the beginning, then I will help you. (Keep in mind that this child can not only pray just fine, but that she can recite the Wonderpets theme song by heart which is a great deal longer than any of her prayers.)
Sleestack: I can't!
Me: Fine. Heavenly.
Sleestack: No response.
Me: HEAVENLY.
Sleestack: Heavy. (A sudden speech impediment, obviously.)
Me: Heavenly.
Sleestack: Heavy.
Me: Heav. EN. Ly.
Sleestack: Heavenly.
Me: Father.
Sleestack: Father.
Me: I thank thee. (This is the part where Jared sneaks to the doorway to listen).
Sleestack: I thank thee.
Me: That my mother.
Sleestack: That my mother.
Me: Hasn't killed me. Yet.
Sleestack: Hasn't killed me yet.
Yada, yada, yada.
When we got done, there was Husband standing in the dark with a look on his face that said, "Facebook gold!" He's probably posting this latest reason I will be taking up eternal residence in the Underworld at this very second. Ah well. I bet in the grand scheme of things, Heavenly Father has heard a lot more interesting prayers from my mouth than from most of the general population.
I'm hoping entertainment value will count for something.
Back Story: Around bedtime tonight, Sleestack whines and whines for me to put her to bed. I explain many times that she has to actually get ready for bed before I can put her in it. Her father is trying to help her with this but she keeps crying and yelling for Mom to put her to bed. Ack.
She is finally ready and asks me to change her pajama shirt because there is some undetectable something in the elbow that is causing her great pain.
Fine.
She is finally in the bed, and I'm sent to get her water.
I sing her choice of song.
It's time for her to pray and she's suddenly forgotten how and I am out of patience. Normal people would probably just say the prayer for the child. Do I? No. I'm sick of being ordered around by a two-year-old.
Me: You're not going to pray?
Sleestack: I don't know how.
Me: Seriously? Fine. Then we won't pray. (I walk to the light and turn it off. No response from Sleestack. She's successfully called my bluff.) Sleestack, just say the beginning.
Sleestack: I don't know how. You have to help me.
Me: Just say the beginning, then I will help you. (Keep in mind that this child can not only pray just fine, but that she can recite the Wonderpets theme song by heart which is a great deal longer than any of her prayers.)
Sleestack: I can't!
Me: Fine. Heavenly.
Sleestack: No response.
Me: HEAVENLY.
Sleestack: Heavy. (A sudden speech impediment, obviously.)
Me: Heavenly.
Sleestack: Heavy.
Me: Heav. EN. Ly.
Sleestack: Heavenly.
Me: Father.
Sleestack: Father.
Me: I thank thee. (This is the part where Jared sneaks to the doorway to listen).
Sleestack: I thank thee.
Me: That my mother.
Sleestack: That my mother.
Me: Hasn't killed me. Yet.
Sleestack: Hasn't killed me yet.
Yada, yada, yada.
When we got done, there was Husband standing in the dark with a look on his face that said, "Facebook gold!" He's probably posting this latest reason I will be taking up eternal residence in the Underworld at this very second. Ah well. I bet in the grand scheme of things, Heavenly Father has heard a lot more interesting prayers from my mouth than from most of the general population.
I'm hoping entertainment value will count for something.
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