We had a pretty...relaxing Sunday. Sundays around here consist of waking up much too early for a weekend. Then we get ready for church--which no matter how much of an early start we get--somehow we always manage to be late. Three hours of church are followed by three hours of preparing for a nap, taking a nap, or waking up from a nap--unless you are Lily, in which case you need 45 minutes to fully wake up from a nap. If you talk to her or try to love her before she is good and ready, she will eat your face off. Steve and Lily usually go to the inlaws for a few hours and I get the house aaaaaaaall to myself. They come home. (Although, today, they didn't go to Steve's parents, which I was still very happy with cuz we had fun doing nothing.)
Dinner comes next. Followed by more "relaxing" (let's just call it what it is--TV). Then, almost without fail, Steve and I will go back and forth over who's going to make brownies, (have you ever had the Ghiradelli brownie mix?...soooooo worth the 8 million calories).
"Go make brownies."
"You do it, I just made them last Sunday."
"No you didn't. You made them in August! I made them last week! You make 'em."
"Nooo. You took a nap. I didn't get to take one. You make the brownies."
"I don't want to. I just made dinner."
"Fine, we just won't have them..."
(Then there's usually a long pause...who will fold? Who will give in? Who cannot bare the thought of a brownie-less Sunday?...)
"Steeeeeeve...go make em! Just go do it real fast and I'll leave you alone."
"I don't want to. You make them."
"Just get up and go make the brownies. It only takes a minute."
"Then you do it!"
"If you want me to ever do your laundry again, you will go make the brownies."
So we end the night with half the brownies satisfyingly where they belong...turn on the News--and before we know it, it's bedtime.
Some might call it boring. We just call it Sunday.