The walk of shame.

If you have children old enough to *really* defy you, I don't need to explain what this means.
After much preparation and dissention among the ranks, we managed to get the whole family to Church today.
They were playing well in the nursery during the first part of the service and came in for the children's sermon. Apparently Morrison was tapping his shoes on the floor and trying to climb about. Luckily I am short and couldn't see his antics. As they headed back to the nursery I realized that Sinclair was in need of a potty break, so I headed out to take her to the restroom. Things were OK in the nursery, Morrison was boisterous (as usual!) but when it came time to return to the sanctuary for Communion- they turned on the rancor. I was carrying Cecilia, holding Sinclair's hand and Morrison was holding the hand of the arm that was holding Cecilia. And then he decided he'd like to hang from my forearm. Sheer panic- I nearly dropped Cecilia and the panicked usher told Morrison, "No!" through clenched teeth. I made it it to Chip and then Morrison wriggled up to my Mom where he continued his antics and we decided to cut our losses and head out.
I don't think my face has ever blushed so deeply as it did when we escorted our rowdy brood out the door. Sigh.
Luckily this weekend has been very good otherwise. They were well-behaved and happy at the Greek Festival and visiting with their Grandparents. I suppose 2 out of 3 isn't bad, right?