Sin Calzones

I can't take credit for today's title. Our good friend Rita whispered it to me as she sat behind me at mass on Easter Sunday. She whispered it in between quiet bursts of laughter that were extremely inappropriate at mass on Easter Sunday. But who am I to talk about someone else's inappropriate laughter. I brought my 2 year old daugther to mass on Easter Sunday sin calzonwes - translation - without underwear.

It was a crazy morning. Josie was up late the night before and nothing was to the queen's liking. She didn't want breakfast. She didn't like the first dress I had on her. She didn't like the underwear I picked out for her. She was running around the house naked, crying and confident that anything I wanted her to do was the worst idea in the world.

At 7:45am something clicked and she decided it would be a good idea to go to church. She got dressed relatively easily. We walked out to the car. Norm and Owen were waiting for us. We drove to church singing, laughing and hitting every green light. I should have known that was too easy.

As I pulled Josie from the car, I noticed her derriere felt a little lighter than usual. And suddenly I remembered the dora underwear I had left neatly folded on the kitchen counter. "She's not wearing underwear!" I yelled to Norm as he was getting Owen out of the car.

"Want a diaper?" He asked.

"No diaper." Josie said.

"Alright," I sasid. Her dress is long enough I thought.

When we walked into church I saw my sister and her family in a row next to my brother and his wife who had managed to get all of their children dressed and in their seats before me and my two children. And I was pretty sure they were all wearing underwear (or diapers).

Well, we're here I thought as I let Josie walk down the aisle to her cousins. Norm and I sat with Owen in a row perpendicular to the rest of our family.

As soon as I sat down, I had to share my latest shining moment as a mother with Rita. "Josie doesn't have any underwear on!" I whispered to Rita before I even said Happy Easter.

"A diaper?" She asked.

"Nothing," I said.

She laughed quietly and said, "Well her dress is long."

Thats what I thought. Thats what Rita thought. This was going to be just another Easter Sunday Mass. We thought wrong.

I tried to turn my attention to the priest. But every time I saw Josie move in the aisle or try to climb up on the chair, I winced. I soon noticed that Norm, Rita, Tony and I were all watching. In fearful anticipation. And then it happened.

Josie was attempting to sit deeper in the chair, she lost her balance and her legs opened wide. The dress hiked up above her waist. And there my daugther was, white dress and wide legs in her chair, sin calzones.

We all laughed and laughed and laughed. The perfectly poised family in the next row looked at us with judging eyes. How dare we laugh in church, they thought as the clasped their hands together and prayed for our inappropriate souls. If they only new my daugther was going commando. They would probably douse me with holy water.

When the tears in my eyes dried up enough so I could see where I was walking, I grabbed the diaper bag, grabbed my daugther and walked right into the bathroom.

I slipped a diaper on her as she stood in the bathroom before she even realized what was happening. I didn't care if I had potty train her all over again, she was wearing something to cover her privates while we prayed on Easter Sunday.

God had a plan, as He usually does, when he placed the open seats next to Rita and Tony and across from my daugther - sin calzones. It wasn't just enough that I managed to make it to mass on Easter Sunday. I needed to take a little more time to prepare for the mass. To make sure I opened my heart to God's words. And to make sure I didn't forget to put underwear on my daugther.

And that no matter what I did or didnt do, there would always be a witness. A witness who would never forget the sight of my daugther at Easter Mass sin calzones. Fortunately, Rita and Tony are witnesses who enjoy a good laugh and love me regardless of my ability to appropriately dress my daugther.