ssshhh.

George couldn't whisper if his life depended on it.  He really doesn't mean to be devious when he speaks loudly in inapproriate situations, he just can't help it.  He's an Acklin!  Those folks are so LOUD!  (Love you all!)  So church sometimes makes me nervous.  I have the evil stink eye look nailed down, but sometimes I just can't catch him in time. 

Two things last weekend.  First, the loud outburst that went something like, "MOM, THE BASKET ALREADY WENT BY AND YOU DIDN'T PUT THE MONEY IN!"  (For the record - of course I did!)  I whispered to him to knock the volume down about ten decibels and that yes, I did put money in.  His response was something like, "BUT MOM, I DIDN'T SEE YOU PUT IT IN!"  Dear Lord.  Help me.  I am weak.

Then towards the end of Mass he stares at me for a minute, and says yells, "MOM, WHY ARE YOU WEARING THAT ROBE TO CHURCH?"  That robe?  My comfy Ann Taylor cardigan?  Crap, does it look like a robe!?  So I whisper, "George this is a sweater, not a robe.  Please be quiet."  Crap, does this really look like a robe?!  He painfully and with great strain whispered back, "But mom, it looks like you're wearing a robe."  Thanks, George.  I guess the bright side is knowing that I can now meander my way through life with the honest (and loud) opinions of my sons.  Yeah, it sort of does look like a robe, doesn't it?