Per usual, we are running from place to place trying to fit every one's activities and social life into a very short 24 hours with only 2 drivers. I was meeting Chris at the Bishop's dinner; Sarah Katherine was off to ballet and then a football game; Christopher was being picked up for cotillion, and the babies were staying home and watching a movie. As I was leaving, it occurred to me I had not planned a dinner for the children. Oops! I'm frantically trying to decide what's appropriate to wear, not too stuffy, not too revealing--you know an issue that will continue as I continue in this vocation. (Gangan told me I was not to be a dowdy priest!) "Ah ha!" I think to myself. "I'll let the children order pizza. They'll think it's fun and I don't look like the mother who forgot I had to feed my children--win win! Yeah me!" But I realize I don't have time and I'm not certain they've ever ordered their own so I ask, "Christopher, do you know how to order a pizza to be delivered?" (I know he's 13; he should be able to,but we don't do it often and with 4 children I can be a little controlling--makes things go smoother)Christopher looks at me aghast eyes rolling and clearly irritated, "Yes ma'am you just say, 'yo, bring me a pizza to my crib quick like.'" (Remember I'm in a frantic hurry, so not easily amused.) I look at him with my best be serious I'm your mother and this is not time for a joke look. He sheepishly says, "I know Mama, now that I'm in cotillion I have to say, 'Yo, excuse me mister, would you be so kind as to bring me a pizza to my lovely crib?'"
Thank goodness for online ordering!
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