The Notebook

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Ahh, another enjoyable Sunday Service. Baby Jane fell asleep in my arms almost immediately and I was able to bask in the message from the pulpit, uninterrupted. All nice and cozy with my adorable honey in his smart suit, while our other four children quietly scribbled in the spiral bound notebooks I brought special for them to keep them occupied whilst we soaked in the good word.

Then during the closing hymn, Kate (my eight year old) handed me this note. Apparently, quite a few atrocities flew under my radar during the hour I was being spiritually uplifted, and like any good daughter, it was her job to make me privy to them.

By the time my husband and I read and reread her note, we were both doubled over in such heaps of laughter, tears were streaming down our cheeks and we were unable to choke out the last verse of “Lord, Dismiss Us with Thy Blessing.” (Somehow, things are ten times funnier when it’s inappropriate to laugh out loud.)

So here’s her note, verbatim. I’ve added parentheses where some explantation is needed and where her second grade spelling may need some translation, but otherwise, her humor and sass are unadulterated as follows:

(Cover to folded note)

To: Mom
From: Kate
About: Luke and a little of Dean (her bothersome little brothers)

(Inside Message)

Dear Mom,
Luke reewend (ruined) my one of thees! (By “thees” she means one of the spiral bound notebooks I so cleverly bought for each of them.) He skribled all over mine now I can’t use it! And when I said, “You o (owe) me yours,” he said, “But I have my name on it.” I said, “Well, guess what, mine had my name on it too!” So Dad gave me two pages. Really, two pages! I wanted the hole (whole) book! Then on the sacrament you’d think we’d be okay, but we weren’t! Not one bit! When I axidently took two peeses (pieces) of bread and the deeken had aready left Luke said, “You took two!?” Then Dad gave me that little look. I said it was an axident and he just stared in that little way of his that said, “You’re Lieing!” (Lying!) What a creep! Luke asked me a question. It was “How old is president Monson now?” (President Monson is the president and prophet of our church.) I said, “I don’t know?” He said “84” and said I was not smart. He just rubed (rubbed) it in my face! During the praryer (prayer) Luke was sticking his tong (tongue) out at me! Dean was being a pill. He was yelling at Olivea! (Our little friend sitting in the pew behind us.) Today’s sacrament meeding (meeting) was bad. Next tim (time) mite (might) be better!
P.S. tell Luke to give his book to me!

Her note takes up an entire college ruled page, single spaced. Maybe my spiral notebooks weren’t employed in the exact way I envisioned when I bought them (reverently drawing scenes from Noah’s ark) but they sure did keep them occupied! Her measly torn out two pages kept her quietly airing her grievances for at least 20 minutes, the operative word being “quietly.”

Upon seeing her parents convulsing with laughter, Kate decided the note was pretty funny too. In fact, she demanded her “mightier than the sword” work with the quill be read aloud during dinner tonight and we all had a good laugh about it again.

My favorite part of the now “infamous” letter is the end: “Next tim mite be better.”

Such optimism. And that’s why we keep lugging five small children to church every Sunday and continue making futile attempts at reverence–because next time might be better.

I’m sure of it.

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