12. Harvest Hell

Magpie dancing in the rain outside Church, looking suspiciously ginger (she's not)

The Tank enjoys slipping on damp tiles

Outcasts: The Tank and the Border Terrier puppy

The Harvest Festival display (spot the bite mark)

We decided to brave Church on Sunday.  BIG mistake.  I'm not sure if I am a good Christian, or if I just want to get the girls into the local church school, but when several weeks pass and I realise we haven't put in an appearance, guilt sets in.  In hindsight, I've no idea why.

It was Harvest Festival, and apparently children were to be on best behaviour.  Usually it's a bit of a free-for-all, with over-fives careering down isles with toy cars, toddlers crumbling and babies puking.  Anyway, the girls weren't in the mood for best behaviour, and still have no sense of occasion.  It seems a long time ago that the girls were babes in arms,and beautifully behaved ones at that, milk guzzling with cherubic hands waving.

I now realise that toddlers sitting still is really an oxymoron.  Especially in Church.  I had dressed the girls in their Sunday best, The Tank looking Grace Kelly-esque with uber blonde hair and cream cowl-necked dress and Magpie looking sugar-pie sweet with a cowlick fringe, beige and white spotty cord dress with co-ordinated pink tights and cardi.  My children's elegance was sartorial, but most definitely not behavioural.

During the first hymn, The Tank decided to bite the service sheet, moan, and raise her arms and squirm out of my embrace in split-second speed.  Food was offered, but bribary was deemed out of the question.  I tried to entertain her at the back of the church, but there's only so many marble urns a toddler can slap and only so many benches they can climb before boredness sets in.

Big Daddy (always smug when holding the better-behaved Magpie) soon joined me.  I grinned.  But I was the idiot who suggested we go to Church in the first place.  I  took my eye off the blonde ball for a moment and the Tank tried to do a sprint down the main aisle during prayers.  Meanwhile Big Daddy scooped up a fractious Magpie and took her outside....and scurried over to a tree to shelter from the rain.

Self-exiled but loathe to give up completely, we hung out in the hallway/entrance with only a wimpering boarder terrier for company.  The puppy offered the girls timely distraction.  Then The Tank reached up to a Harvest Festival display and took a bite out of an apple.  Big Daddy tip-toed back in to retrive the buggy and that was the end of our church service.

I daresay putting in an appearance in church with terrorising toddlers in tow isn't as important as getting involved in the parish.  That's (harvest festival) food for thought.