But being the "first family" has it's awkward moments. As a teenager, most of those moments came when Dad would use a story from our lives as a sermon illustration. He'd start out, "I remember when one of my daughters was young..." and I would suddenly feel every eye in the sanctuary boring holes in the back of my head. My less-than-subtle friends would swivel around in their seats in front of me and inform me in a loud whisper, "Hey! He's talking about YOU!!!!" Thanks. I'd have missed that otherwise.
So yesterday morning, we joined with our family of faith in worship and had a grand old time. Dad knocked it out of the park (as usual) in his sermon. And as we were filing out of the pews, random guy next to me says, "Man, I bet your dad came up with some really great bedtime stories for you guys when you were little."
"Oh.... well... uh.... not really," I reply. "I mean, I do remember him reading to us from Goldilocks & the 3 Bears with really silly voices. But uh.... that's about it."
Random man's face as I stammer through my awkward response: Does not compute.
I think I might have burst his bubble a little bit. Sorry random man.
Also, hooray for Mother's Day. I love my mom. A LOT.
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