My wife still wasn't ready to leave for church Sunday morning 11 minutes before the 10:00 start time, and as we were leaving the front gate of "The Compound" she was putting on her shoes and pronounced her feet were "too fat" Her shoes wouldn't fit! She had to go back and change her shoes! "Too fat!" I thought. She has lost almost 20 pounds in the last year. So as I am fuming and thinking of words I shouldn't be thinking of right before Mass, we finally manage to leave with our little niece and nephew in tow.
Well, father is walking up the steps to the altar in his usual t-shirt and getting ready to put on his robe. The same song begins the service. Time to go through the motions again. The only dog that remains on the step is the one that had it's nose nuzzled. I guess the other two canines are checking out the wandering pregnant pooch I saw earlier. Life goes on.