The bishop stopped by last evening to check on us because we didn’t go to church yesterday. We explained that we weren’t there because we were at the nursing home taking family pictures.

Sunday morning was the only time everyone could be at same place at the same time. I didn’t have a problem missing Sunday services to make this picture stuff happen because I have been harassed for months by my elderly parents about getting it done and I just can’t take it anymore.

They are worried about dropping dead at any moment (nothing like living in a nursing home, surrounded by people who drop dead at any moment to help spur on things like family pictures before it is Too Late.)

After wrangling three young adult children, three elderly adults and an infant for an hour trying to get the perfect family photo, (You know the one: everyone looking in the same direction at the same time, eyes open, smiling, no goofy expressions and no obscene gestures in sight) I finally gave up and this is what we settled for:

After it was all over (because I am stupid and thought getting pictures of just our granddaughter would be super fun and our granddaughter did not agree), we all collapsed on the couch for naps.

Rob asked Elise why she didn’t take grandbaby Eleanor to the rest of the church services while we ran errands for our three elderly parents (Rob’s mom and my parents live in the same nursing home, 4 doors away from each other. And yes, that creates a special kind of drama. Feel free to feel sorry for us.) Elise looked us straight in the eye and replied, “Because I thought it seemed silly to say to a miserable, crying baby, “Come on Eleanor, let’s go yell in a different place.” ”

We laughed ourselves sick over that. That’s our new definition of going to church with preschoolers – Its just a different place to yell.