Sunday Morning and Satan

Lucifer himself shows up at our house on Sunday mornings. Cause he is a hungry lion seeking whom he may devour. And I make him lick his chops. And apparently, we look mighty tasty. I blame it on the fifth piece of coffee cake. And the fourth apple dumplin. But that is all Satan's fault too. He is such a tempter. He sucks.

Anyhoo, this Sunday mornin we had ALL three twerps dressed and ready. All beds made, breakfast ingested and all that was awaiting our sainthood deployment was shoes.

As I climbed the stairs to put shoes and socks on twenty toes, I heard a noise that made me nervous....SILENCE. And when I rounded the corner to the NICE AND NEAT BEDROOM WHICH I HAD JUST CLEANED AND TIDIED, I saw this....

And I heard giggles....

Comin from here....

And I am so sorry, but how could I be mad at them? You know Satan made them do it.

Who could it be? Could it beee..... Ssssaaaatan?

Anyhoo, on our way home from confession chats, and holy water soakin and Hail Mary shoutin...we started to look for someplace to eat....and I KID YOU NOT...this sign kinda tempted me.

But Indiana Jones would have no part of it so we went to a great Mexican joint...cause with Mexican you can neva go wrong. It is like glitter....appropriate for all occasions.

Anyhoo, as a chowed down I kept notice IJ starin at me....

What? What? Is there something on my face? I cannot break the rhythm of eating long enough to wipe my chin.

Please don't judge me. I now am like the fatten calf. Just a little plumper for Satan next Sunday. But he better watch out...cause I got skillz...Nun chuck skillz, computer hackin skillz, tax preparation skillz.....