Lord, help me

Just a quick one today as I am running around like a maniac getting ready for the kids' baptism this weekend and only found out Saturday the girls have to wear white dresses since the baptismal bibs won't fit over their giant noggins. Try finding a white dress, after Easter, that isn't a communion dress that costs a thousand dollars or is so cheap (and usually covered with plastic beading) that it smells of flame retardant. Madness, I tell you! So in the religious spirit I will give you a glimpse of some of our best church-inspired moments thus far. And, yes, they are all from my middle one (of "fur vagina" fame) since she not only marches to her own beat, but I think is listening to an entirely different band.

Picture her:

Marching around the house holding the child-sized broom from our housekeeping set upright, in front of her face, by its handle: "Look! I look like one of the helpers in church!" Translation? Altar boys.

Wearing pajama bottoms on her head with the legs dangling down her back: "I look like that lady at church" Translation? The nuns.

Sunday morning, in packed church, with furrowed brow, squinty eyes, pointing, as she loudly asks, "Who is that man? Why is he on that 'T' and why is he NAKED?" Translation: Mommy, I want you to die of humiliation.

I really can't wait to see what happens on Saturday. She can't beat my sister though, who almost peed in the sacristy when she was three. Unless, of course, she decides to take a dump.