So the church we go to is rather large. And by "rather large," I mean we have three campuses that run a total of seven combined services over any given weekend. "Rather large" also means we topped 3500 people, total, across those seven combined services for Easter weekend.
That's over two-thirds of the year-round population of the town I live in. (We're a university town. We double in size during the school year.)
So. Large.
We attend the main campus in Cburg, and somewhere along the line in the last couple of years in the brouhaha that is my life, I discovered that there was an over-40 singles group. They met, I discovered, after the Saturday night service. I have found in these ladies a group of hardfast friends...even though I'm technically still married. Therefore I go to church on Saturday nights so that I can go to group, and again on Sunday morning, I take the kids.
I'm telling you all this so I can tell this story.
Now, the Fries all got phones the fall after The Event. They were going to school full-time; I was going to work full-time nearly an hour from home...phones for everyone! They came with a hitch: Everybody installs Life360 on their phones and commits to using the app. I know where you are, you know where I are. I also explained this does not absolve them from telling me when they're going places just because "you can see me on Life360." I should not have to check; I should already know. (We've had this conversation, along with various others surrounding what Life360 needs to work properly, a few times.)
I've discovered, to my amusement, that I get tracked an awful lot.
I have the least social life, but the times I've gotten "Why did you leave work today?" when I get home are more numerous than I care to admit. I went to the dentist, child.
Today, while out grocery shopping with the twins (this is what constitutes an outing in my life), Middle asked me, "Are you going to church tonight?"
Well, duh. It's Saturday. This is my social night.
"Are you going to Olive Garden?"
I tried not to look astonished. How does she know? J only texted this morning that we were meeting there after church tonight! "As a matter of fact, I am going to Olive Garden tonight."
Middle gave me what can only be described as a wicked look. "Bring me breadsticks!"
This conversation then became a hilarious topic of discussion at the table after church, and conspiring how we were going to get our poor waiter, Al, to bring us some more breadsticks after we'd finished what we could of our meals, since three of us wanted to bring breadsticks home and there was only one left. Y said she would ask, since the rest of us were shy. She pointed to three of us, who were definitely not shy. Y is, I will admit, the least not-shy of all of us.
Our group broke up a little before 9, and I ended up with two breadsticks in my bag, and headed for home. Knowing I needed to pack at least one more box tonight before bed, I wasn't in any hurry to get out of the car and into the house. Since I knew we would only be at church for the 9:45 hour tomorrow, I wrestled my church bag out of the car with me. (Usually I just leave it in the car on Saturday nights for the next day.) But Youngest has a parade she's marching in tomorrow, so we have to cut out early. I looked at my Olive Garden bag. "Two breadsticks and three girls..."
I headed for the door...but didn't even have to dig out my keys. Middle yanked it open. "I've been tracking you!"
Well, usually they don't admit it out loud like that.
"Gimme."
I held out the bag to her. She was the one, after all, who asked for breadsticks.
"Thank you, Mother. Goodnight."
I love you too, kid.
