Monday, May 18, 2009
We're a church going family. It's hard to get up in the morning, hard to get the girls looking decent, but we attend every Sunday. Most Sundays, during the last two hours of church, Jake takes care of Lillie while I'm busy in Primary.
Yesterday when church was over, I gathered my books, children, scraps of paper and headed out to the foyer and waited. Jake was not at our meeting place. A long 20 minutes passed full of the older girls running around an empty chapel, Ruby jumping on the couch in the foyer before I could catch her and tons of other shenanigans. I began to really stretch my imagination of where Jake could be. See, he's not the kind to chat it up after the meetings. He gets out of there as fast as he possibly can.
So I walked down the hall. I listened for his voice. The building was practically empty by now. A few voices came around the corner, I looked, nope, not him. I started opening a few doors only to find empty classrooms. I stopped short at the end of the hall at the Mother's Lounge. I hesitated, wondered if there was any chance... I opened the door slowly.
The sight will forever be etched into the inside of my skull. Jake, on one of the recliners, hunched over, snoring, with Lillie asleep against his chest. I stopped and stared with my mouth wide open for ten seconds, just enough time for Jake to sense my presence and blink his eyes open wildly.
20 minutes, people.