Tender mercies (?)

I was alarmed out of bed this morning by a phone call at 5:34.  Never fear.  It was not a telemarketer.  It was not a family emergency.  Unfortunately it was the call telling me I had slept in: our YW Presidency had planned a temple trip for 6:00 A.M. and I hadn't set the alarm clock properly. I stumbled out of bed and tried to get ready in a jiffy, but quickly realized I needed to send the ladies on or they would miss the session.  I told them I would do initiatories and meet them in the lobby.

But when God closes a door, somewhere he opens a window (At least that's what Mother Abess says.  And yes, I frequently glean wisdom from musicals produced in the 60's).

I called D to let him know that he didn't need to rush home-- I had missed my ride and my session (he was on call the night before and was off at 6:00).   When D got into the house, he said, "I am really sorry that you are so bummed, but your bad morning is my tender mercy."

"What?" I asked incredulously.

"I said a lot of prayers last night that I would be able to figure out Eliza's hair for her gym workout this morning.  I was really scared I wouldn't be able to do a pony tail to her liking.  Now that you won't be gone, you can do it before you leave."

With that, we woke Eliza up at 6:40 just so mom could do her hair.

Tender mercy?  You decide.

I'm trying to be like Jesus. . . .kindof

Ahhhh, first day of summer.  Lazy morning.  Lot's of time.  The inevitable video-game fight has already happened, and it is only 10 A.M.  I locked Davis and Roger outside and told them to work out their differences.  They could come back in when things were figured out.

A few minutes later, they knocked.  I opened the door and asked, "Did you figure it out?"

"Yes," Davis replied. "Roger said he would watch me play."

"Really?  Roger are you okay with that?"

"Yeah," he said.

"I guess you guys can come back in then."  As they shuffled down the stairs, I stopped Roger.  "Rog, thanks for being a peacemaker and letting Davis play first.  I can tell you are really becoming like Jesus."

He stopped and stared at me for a moment and then announced, "No, I'm not like Jesus.  I don't have a beard."

Then he walked downstairs thinking his mom was an idiot.

Same Jersey: LOVE THIS VIDEO!!