Last day. Just one final hurdle: church.
I got up, got everyone bathed and dressed. I even did Paige's hair (okay, I combed it and then but a headband in it--close enough). We were all set and ready to go.
"Kids, get in the van!" I hollered. (I couldn't believe how smoothly this was all going. We were going to be early!) I had just overlooked one thing. Curtis, of course, had no idea where his shoes were. Blargh.
After a few minutes of digging, we found them. We weren't early, but we were on time--still an impressive feat.
Things went well in sacrament meeting until Tate discovered the container of baby formula tucked away in the bottom of our church bag.
"I want milk, dad."
"Tate, we're not going to have that kind of milk, buddy. After the sacrament we can go to the drinking fountain."
"I want milk."
"Shh, buddy. We have to wait."
"I WANT MILK!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Tate then grabbed the container, pulled it opened with his teeth and POOF! A cloud of baby powder went up in the air and landed strategically on my crotch. Wonderful.
But we made it through. After church, Tate took a nap and Paige and Curtis helped me clean up the house for mom's impending arrival.
We were reunited with Traci a little after 5:00. The kids were excited to see her, but they couldn't possibly have been as excited as I was. I am a lucky, lucky man.