I was raised Baptist so when I met hubs and started attending the Episcopal church there was a transitional period for me. I was used to upbeat music, discussion prior to the sermon, and a charismatic speaker at the podium. The first time I went to church with hubs and his family was Christmas Eve; way to ease me into things. I was sitting in the pew between hubs and his grandfather. Papa Ray was a big man; a big belly, a big laugh, and an even bigger heart. When the church lights dimmed and the acolytes entered, Ray leaned over to me and whispered "This is when they bring in the snakes". He could not control his laughter as he watched my eyes get big as I squeezed hubs leg. I quickly learned the joke was on me. Eleven years later we still sit in the same pew that Ray sat in every Sunday prior to his passing. Although it did not take me eleven years, I am at home in the Episcopal church. I like the routine of it all, sit stand, sit stand, communion, the whole thing. For those of you not familiar with the Episcopal religion, we are very similar to Catholicism, yet we do not have individual confession. You know what I am talking about; you go to a little booth and act like the person on the other side does not know you. You tell them all your wrong doings and then they give you an assignment to be forgiven. Since our church does not do this sort of thing, I find myself needing to confess and an outlet for that confession. Rather than sit in a box and tell someone I have to see the next Sunday, I have chosen to tell you. You see how much better this will be? I do not really know you. I do not have to see you tomorrow or even next week. If I did would I recognize you? So here goes. I must confess that I listen to the easy listening radio station. Don’t worry; I do not do it all the time. It is not even a speed button on my radio dial. I suppose I do not make it a button because that would mean I am committed. I mean, what if someone got in my car and started pushing buttons and found out I am a closet "gentle giant" listener?! I seem to listen to this station when I am in the car by myself; does that mean I am ashamed? Oh no, two sins in one!
I don't remember where I read it or what details were included, but I read something to the effect of the fact that we spend a ridiculous amount of time waiting. We wait at the grocery store, at school, to get gas, and like me the other day; to pick up prescriptions. To cut my waiting down as much as possible, I called in my refill. I explained to the automated attendant that I would (press 1) pick up my goods at 5pm that day. I arrive at my neighborhood drug store around 4:30. Sure I am early, but how hard is it to count out 30 pills and slap on a sticker? I admit to the girl at the counter I am early and it may not be ready. She agrees but says she will get right on it. I sit. I wait. More people arrive looking for the cure to their ills. That gets me thinking; what are their ills? I rethink coming inside to get chocolate with my refill and think I should have gone through the drive through. I find my self caught in what I like to call The Waiting Game.
Now that all the sites and blogs I manage are up to date, I can give myself some time. My brain has been reduced to mush after the boys had a sleep over with their cousin last night, so to get back in the swing of things, I will subject you to a meme! I found a 
Our little party animal, Little Man, planned my birthday party last week. Not one to leave anyone out, he also planned hubs' birthday party this week. He informed hubs that he was going to have a batman party with party blowers for hubs birthday. Little Man asked Brad what color of party blower he would like for his party. Brad's witty response was "Blond or Brunette". Always looking out for his mommy, even if he does not know it responds, "how about red?".
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