Ah, humility.

I was on fire this weekend. I had energy to spare and a long to-do list. On Saturday alone, I washed umpteen loads of laundry, sewed ten patches on a boy scout uniform, organized my Home Control Center (aka the fridge), carted in the recycling, did the shopping, spectated a basketball game, supervised bike riding, gawked at new neighbors, dealt with The Tantrum of the Century, and a few other things that I've forgotten. I was large and in charge and feeling alright.

Sunday morning, I woke up refreshed and sprang out of bed ready for another busy day. I dressed and fed both children, one in the freshly bepatched uniform, before Nick even got out of bed. I was teaching children's liturgy, so I dropped Jake off in the cafeteria with the rest of the scouts and greeted half a dozen parents. Then I ran over to the rectory basement, greeting more people along the way, and set up for the liturgy. Then it was into church for Mass. I went up to the front to process out with the kids, and then back up to the front when we processed back in. Once Mass was over, I headed back to the cafeteria to meet Nick and the kids.

I was feeling entirely pleased with myself when my friend Jenny whispered in my ear, "I've been trying to catch your eye all morning long. You've got your pant leg tucked into your sock." I looked down and sure enough, one pant leg was trapped in my sock halfway up my calf. Oh well, at least I wasn't wearing a skirt!