It was dicey.
Sunday morning, for Alice, was the kind of morning in which one basically hollers one’s pretty little head off, breaking for meals and catnaps.
But, I figured, “Eh. We’ll try it. See how it goes.”
So we got in the car, drove to St. Luke’s, found a seat on the aisle and plotted an exit route. An hour later? Alice had slept through her first Palm Sunday mass.
Walking back to the car, a lady said, “You have such a good baby.”
Then David called from work to warn me that a friend was on his way to our house, which I knew to be in an apalling state of untidiness. I got back there and willed Alice to stay asleep long enough for me to accomplish a super-fast surface clean.
Which she did.
God bless her.