A few hours went by and the family returned. Hubby promptly put all of the kids to work getting the house picked up from the morning routine. This was of course met by several groans as he was reminded that this was the "Lords Day" and they were supposed to rest. They were assured that God wasn't going to mind the 20 minutes it would take to pick up. I appreciated hubby's thoughtfulness as I knew he was trying to make sure I rested and didn't worry about what needed to be done.
Later, my oldest Son came out to the living room where I was passed out on the couch. He made a statement that I found myself thinking about the rest of the day. Mom, he said, it is really not good if you are sick. When only half of you go to Church (meaning hubby and me) things don't go well. Dad only knows how to do his half of the stuff.
I thanked him for his concern, told him I was sure to feel better tomorrow, and not to worry the team would be back together soon. He basically gave me a blank look and walked away in disgust.
For the rest of the day hubby ran the house fantastically. I layed on the coach and watched movies and relaxed (which was wonderful because I really really did not feel well). All of the kids needs were taken care of by him and they were only allowed to complain to him. I bit my tongue several times reminding myself he was perfectly capable of taking care of things even if he was not doing it as I usually do (how many of you have this problem?).
Towards the end of the day I asked what he would like to do about dinner? I usually either cook a nice meal or we go out on Sunday. Well, I obviously was not cooking and he didn't want to go out without me so he decided on grilled cheese. That was fine with me however the troops were not to keen on this idea. They complained and cajoled and begged their Dad to go and get fast food. Hubby hates fast food! What he hates more than the food is going through the take out window with all of the kids "special orders" . The kids decided that they must take drastic action. They ran upstairs for a sibling meeting and quickly began laughing and preparing some sort of plan. I walked into the room to find them making picket signs that read "Taco Bell" or "Fast Food Please". They walked around hubby with these signs but he just ignored them (I really wanted to take a picture but didn't want to seem as if I had taken the insurgents side). They next ran upstairs and got some long candles which they lit and walked around the dark house in a vigil for what they were calling "real food". Even poor Dad was no match for the candles and sad faces so off he marched to get some "real food" but stopped short of special orders (he puts on a good show but is really a softy at heart).
A little while ago my 8 year said he was glad I was feeling better and that our team would be back to normal tomorrow. I feel so blessed that our kids seem to realize that their Dad and I work as a team and that all of us (no matter how much we fight sometimes) are an army of 7 that form one very special family.