Note: Monday Morning Quarterback is a weekly post reviewing Sunday, the busiest, most stressful, most gratifying day in the week of a pastor/parent/spouse/citizen.
Song of The Day:
4:00: “Mommy! I wet my bed!” Wife and I changing sheets in Daughter’s room as the newest member of our household, a seven week-old kitten, looks on with alarm.
4:14. Sheets changed but now I’m awake. Consider getting up.
6:00. Alarm. Step out of bed and remember again yesterday’s adventure in fitness: a Crossfit class Wife compelled me to try. The ache I feel with each step indicates that it was either the best or the worst thing I’ve ever done to my body.
6:23. Coffee made. Sitting down to prepare youth Sunday school. Find an email from the Children’s Director detailing the excruciating pain she’s in and explaining that she will be absent from the morning’s activities. Start to prepare other things.
6:42. Daughter up with the kitten. Wife calling for coffee. Give her my cup, confident she won’t be able to tell it’s only 2/3 full.
7:17. For no good reason at all, creating Dropbox and Google Drive folders for sharing things with youth ministry volunteers. Youth groups ended last week.
8:07. On the church walkway, discover a slick of dog diarrhea. Spot a nearby traffic cone to place in front of it. Reflect on the oddness of a readily available traffic cone.
8:36. Headed out to pick up the coffee for our Sunday School class. If it’s not there as people arrive at 9:00, I’ve found, people don’t drink it. They literally refuse to get up for coffee after the class has started.
9:14. Staring down a chocolate cake donut. Win.
9:37. Sicking a 9th grader on the Oxford Dictionary of World Religions: “Dude, find ‘Justification’ in there.”
10:06. Student pulls me up before the church with no warning to complete his announcement about the youth fundraiser. I did just throw a dictionary at him, though, so I guess we’re even.
10:18. Asserting to the children, by way of explaining “Blessed are those who mourn,” that it’s okay if some of the things Jesus taught don’t make sense to us. Blank stares. Yeah, I think they get it.
10:42. Helping lead the summer kids program now, coloring an image of God picture on sandpaper.
11:17. Committee meeting in the same room as the youth Sunday school class. Chocolate cake donut still there. Stare it into submission. Win again.
11:23. Adult Education Committee endorses idea to spend six weeks next fall with our denomination’s recently published study of Christian Marriage. Score one for the company man.
12:04. The donut wins.
12:38. Return home to find picnic blanket spread on living room floor. Daughter yells, “Surprise! Happy Father’s Day!” Blubber something about a donut.
1:38. Wife invites me to take a Father’s Day nap, adding that she doesn’t believe I’ll allow myself to actually do it. Head upstairs to prove her wrong.
1:40. Check score of the Royals/Rays game first. Then send an email. And a couple texts.
1:42. Turn 9th inning of game on with my phone. Sleep through the last out.
2:00. Wake up. Try hard for more nap time to prove Wife wrong.
2:30. Still awake. Get up and go downstairs. Wife asleep on the couch. Daughter prancing around the kitten.
3:43. Take Daughter with me to store to get drinks for tomorrow’s big Junior High Work Week activity, with a planned stop at the coffee shop.
4:17. Coffee cake.
4:30. Heading for the opening night of VBS.
4:32. Using the drive to return a reference call for a former student. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure she walks on water.”
5:09. Properly start my VBS job: holding one of the Director’s newborns. Best. Gig. Ever.
5:59. Doing some vowel sound exercises with the newborn. Female VBS volunteers look on in amazement. Note: tomorrow night bring Dickens.
6:08. Newborn is crying. Hand him off to formerly admiring female volunteer and head for the kitchen for pudding.
8:12. Return home. Wife has packed everybody’s lunch for tomorrow. Gangsta.
8:15. Sit down to compose a quick email to the Office Manager to find in the morning. Suddenly remember I never called my dad. Text Mom, “You guys still up?
8:16. Check Facebook while I wait for Mom’s reply. Find this and curse:
8:20. Friend pings me to say he’s looking forward to reading in Monday Morning Quarterback about how my Mom called me out on Facebook for not calling my dad on Father’s Day.
8:41. Mom replies, “Call in about 20 minutes.” Start composing Monday Morning Quarterback. Struggling to spell, “Diarrhea.”
9:00. Call Dad. Feel a little less terrible. He’s eager to tell me about the bass that swallowed the trout that had gulped down his fly. It’s a whole thing, trust me.
9:23. Put Daughter and kitten in bed.
9:51. Monday Morning Quarterback . . . done.
YoRocko! 
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