Ever been a church-goer? Remember when you were a kid and every Sunday your family would get dressed up in their...well...Sunday best?
We did it in my family. Dresses for all the girls, pantyhose at the appropriate age, shiny shoes. Collared shirts and sometimes a tie for the boys. And the shiny shoes.
As I sat in church this morning I looked around at my fellow parishioners.
I was glad to see so many young people there...
~~Now don't eat me, people, the following is in no way a judgement...I could care less what people wear. This is simply an observation of the difference of generations, the changes that happen in the way people think.
When I was a teenager, I wouldn't have been caught dead within 100yards of the church in stretchy pants and a tiny camisole-style top.
I would never have worn flip-flops to church, even with a dress.
My brother would have never worn cargo shorts and a polo shirt and sandals.
PERISH THE THOUGHT! My own grandmother still gives me the fish-eye when I let my daughter wear capri pants to church, or when I wear pants.
Personally, I'm just happy to have the people there, no matter what they've got on.
As long as it is some form of clothing.
Thoughts for the day...
Mothers of teens now know why some animals eat their young.
Children seldom misquote you. In fact, they usually repeat word for word what you shouldn't have said.
The main purpose of holding children's parties is to remind yourself that there are children more awful than your own.
We childproofed our homes, but they are still getting in.
Joke of the day...
A man and his wife were working in their garden one day and the man looks
over at his wife and says: "Your butt is getting really big, I mean really
big. I bet your butt is bigger than the barbecue."
With that he proceeded to get a measuring tape and measure the grill
and then went over to where his wife was working and measured his wife's
bottom.
"Yes, I was right, your butt is two inches wider than the barbecue!!!"
The woman chose to ignore her husband. Later that night in bed, the husband
is feeling frisky. He makes some advances towards his wife who completely
brushes him off.
"What's wrong?" he asks.
She answers: "Do you really think I'm going to fire up this big-ass grill for one little weenie?"
Guess what?
I still have a couple of guest posts floating around my inbox, waiting patiently, twiddling their thumbs, talking in low tones.
So be sure to tune in this week for fun, frolic, and...another 'f' word. *wink*
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