Last Sunday we sat by a family with four kids. Four kids is a lot of kids. I don't know how the mom did it. There was an eight-year-old girl, six year old boy, four-year-old girl and a one-year-old boy. Each kid was more adorable than the other. They were dressed so cute. The girls had long combed hair. The kids were so well behaved and polite. I looked at them and thought, 'I want four kids. She can hold it together. Why couldn't I?' When in reality, I never comb my boys' hair and it's onlt after we leave the house when I notice they have major bed-head. Then I just think, "oh well, I can always pretend I'm not with THEM," What if I had girls? Their hair would always be a rats nest. I found myself mesmerized by this family. The sweet little four-year-old shoving Cheerios into her baby brother's mouth. The little eight-year-old leaning on her daddy. The (combed hair) six-year-old silently playing "hide the penny" with his little sister. If my kids played "hide the penny" in church, Ethan would likely end up yelling at the top of his lungs, "NOAH!! You cheat!!" and Noah yelling back, "I DID NOT! I'M NEVER PLAYING WITH YOU AGAIN!!" By the end of the service, the one-year-old climbed in between Ethan and I. The thought crossed my mind that I should just take him. Because if you want something, you should take it, especially when you are in church and in front of your children trying to teach them morals. After all, she had four kids. I only have two, if I took the baby, we'd be even. Hey- fair is fair... I kept thinking about how perfect they appeared, and how the mom made it all look so easy. Then I thought of my Christmas card photo. Well, not exactly my Christmas card photo, but the photo I would have used if I had my act together enough to send out Christmas cards. The three dogs are sleeping peacefully under the tree and two adorable boys (WITH combed hair) laying by them... That certainly was an unusual glimpse in time. The boys never have combed hair. The dogs never sleep peacefully anymore, they are much too busy chasing each other around, barking, jumping on the furniture, and pooping on the carpet. I bet at that lady's house, no one poops on the carpet. Who knows? Maybe Easter Sunday was that lady's unusual glimpse in time. Only hers lasts over and hour and mine only lasts 30 seconds.