Maybe that sounded better in your head

This week two different families on our street invited us over in the evening to dine with them them.

For real.

I consider that one of the acts that will get you mad props with Jesus. Inviting a "single" mom and her three loud, ravenous children into your home puts you on the short list for a seat at Jesus' right hand. It's up there with moving to Tanzania and starting an orphanage, dying for your faith and doing the drama for a retreat.

There are few who attempt it.

That's why it was such a special thing to me for my neighbors to open their homes up to us.

The first dinner went pretty well (I'm talking about behavior).

The second?

Not really.

It was partly my fault. (Who am I kidding. I'm the mom. Everything is my fault.) I had not considered the fact that we had missed naps and had a pretty stimulating day already.

We eat, then the boys head upstairs to play in their friend's room.

I stay down and visit with the grown ups till about 7:15 or 7:30, then decide it's probably time to go home, thinking: "If we leave now, we can avoid meltdowns."

Wrong.

My friend and I head upstairs to have the kids pick up toys.

We arrive in the boys room and it is, as we expected, covered in toys.

"Alright boys, time to clean up."

It appeared no one heard the command.

I bend down to my two and put my hand gently on their backs. "Jack, Ty, I need you two to help clean up the toys."

Ty acted like he might pick up a couple things. He headed under the loft bed, out of sight. I was going to give him the benefit of the doubt and see if he was going to clean up that area.

Jack, without looking up says, "I don't wanna clean up."

hmm... he must have thought I was posing a question. I bend down, put my mouth next to his ear to clear things up a little bit: "You can either clean up toys or you will get a spanking when we get home. You choose now. Clean up or spanking."

I sat back up and began to put the toys in baskets.

Jack sat up a little straighter, paused for thought then turned to look me directly in the eyes.

He then responded with:

"Mom, I want you to choose to quit talking or I'm gunna spank you."

hmm.

Now what would you do here? I had to decide quickly. After all I'd just been given a choice.

Instinctively, I wanted to slap him in his sassy mouth, but that ultimately would not produce the desired result (result being a respectful, Christ-following adult).

So I just looked him back in the eye and said, "Do you think that's a good idea?"

He continues his gaze, shakes his head and answers: "Nope."

"You're right." I reply.

I go about my business cleaning the room. Jack never decides to help. I thought it best not to challenge Ty and run the risk of having another child tell me exactly how he felt.

We fumble out the door after finally getting socks, shoes, and coats on three very tired, fussy children.

We cross the icy road, carefully step over the mounds of slick snow and walk into the house.

I shut the door...

...use your imagination.