Ahhhhh....Daylight Savings Time. The one Sunday a year where I am not running out the door dragging a resistant toddler behind me with one arm, tugging my panty hose on with the other, and clinching my tube of mascara between my teeth to be messily slathered on as we tear down the highway on the way to church.
We didn't quite know what to do with ourselves when each and every member of the family was dressed and ready to go 25 minutes before we needed to begin the van loading process. We just kind of stared at each other dumbfoundedly.
If only we could have a magical extra hour every Sunday...
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