Welcome to the KingZoo and Funny Farm, where we learn to live, laugh, and love together. Here you'll find snippets of life in our zoo, parenting tips we've learned along the way, reflections on shining God's light in this world, passions in the realm of orphan care, and our journey as parents of a visually impaired child with sensory processing disorder. Have fun!
Sunday, October 30, 2016
A tale of 2 shoo-fly pies
I carefully wrapped my still-warm pie in tin foil, placed it in a bag and set it between the front seats of the van.
Upon arrival at the church, someone unbuckled Victor from his carseat, and he promptly jumped down.
Right on top of my beautiful shoo-fly pie. I could have cried. Actually, I think I did cry. Too many Sundays without my help-mate and I was done. All because of a shoe in the shoo-fly pie.
I left the pie in the van and a war raged in my mind - do I go into class without a contribution for the breakfast (which could cause my ancestors to roll over in their graves) or do I go home and have a little pity party?
After dropping the kids off at their classes I returned to the van for one last check. Nope, there was no way this pie was salvageable enough to go to class. My shoo-fly pie had become a shoe-fly pie and no one was going to want to eat that thing.
Except my kids.
I don't think it even lasted through lunch.
So, this week, when I found out that my Sunday School class was again having breakfast, my pride knew it had to be redeemed; I didn't care that I would have to get up early on my birthday to bake without a 3 year old helper.
This one did not go on the floor; the person riding shotgun was warned that they'd have to hold my precious shoo-fly pie. And they did. It made it all the way to class just fine.
And that is my Tale of Two Shoo-fly Pies.