Oops

I have just committed my first leave-behind-one-of-my-kids offense.

We had just walked into our house after church yesterday when Dallin asked me, "Where's Matthew?" I closed my eyes as I suddenly realized that I had left Matthew at church.

Every Sunday, as soon as church ends, my family scatters: Jamie Beth and Dallin go with their aunt for an hour to play and have snacks. Matthew races home to pick up his bag of "regular clothes" that he prepared and left in the carport, and then races again to Papa and Nana's house. Matt stays behind to do his financial clerking. So, most Sundays, it's just me and little Nate quietly driving the two blocks home, or the three blocks to Papa and Nana's.

But yesterday was different because it was so cold. Tired Dallin just wanted to stay with me, and Matthew wanted a warm ride to his destinations. I remembered after I arrived home that he had said something like, "I'll be right out, Mom. Wait for me!" Unfortunately, those words barely made it to my brain; I just continued to bundle up the little ones, rushed them to the frigid car, and drove home. Didn't even think about stray 9-year-olds. Lucky for Matthew, he has thoughtful relatives who gather and deliver forgotten children.