My Name is Simon and I Like Chocolate

As of late I've been feeling like a lousy mother again. I try my best but I just feel like I'm screwing it all up. With that in mind we go to church on Sunday...

As Jon and I are walking our class to sharing time we pass Simon's class coming from sharing time. Simon is mad. Furrowed brows, stomping feet, and my personal favorite---the declaration of unhappiness, "I'm so angry!" Apparently something super cool happened in sharing time and he wasn't one of the chosen few called on to participate. (Which when you are only 4 I can see how that can be devastating.)

I decide to stay with Simon in his class for a few minutes until the crushing blow has been forgotten. Fortunately Simon has like wonder woman for his teacher and she can talk him into doing just about anything. Within minutes she has him with her playing an obedience game. Unfortunately she let Simon be the leader and as I left class he has the kids doing crazy ninja jump turn kicks...

After church our home teachers stop by. Trying include Simon in the lesson (and bless their hearts for trying) one of them asks Simon what he gets to do when he turns eight. Simon looks at us, smiles and says "I get to poo." I send him the look of death and he jumps up in between the two men on the other couch.

Undaunted the home teacher proceeds---showing him a picture of the twelve apostles. "Who are they?" he asks. Without hesitation Simon announces they are "bad guys".

Next comes a photo of the prophet. "And who is he Simon?"
"President of the bad guys."

That's right. President of the bad guys.

Well, what do you expect? It's not like Jon works for the church or anything.

After being shamed we bid farewell to the home teachers and head up to my family's house for dinner. The drive to my parents was peppered with tiny conversations about Simon thinking that the sun was melting him and how his heart is turning bad because he's so tired.

Upon arriving at my family's Simon sits up to the table where he announces that he doesn't want to pray and that the food looks "sick". That's when my grandpa says, "You're a mess! Who are you anyways?" And Simon says, "My name is Simon and I like chocolate."

Chocolate Shmocolate. My name is liz and I still love my little twirp.
Here's to hoping that we do better next Sunday.