I'm not in a bad mood.

We have a children's book called "My Many Colored Days." On the cover it says it is by Dr. Seuss, though it is not. How this is not worthy of a lawsuit and this is, I do not know. It's a nice book which describes how different days can be blue, orange, pink or grey (or gray), depending on our moods and feelings. A very important message for impressionable young minds.

I don't have many colored days. I'm a monochrome, even-keeled guy. But if I did have many colored days, today would probably be gr(e/a)y-ish.

Tonight Michelle and I had our weekly conversation about how frustrating it is to go to church. It isn't really possible to participate in worship as a parent of a toddler at Solomon's Porch. Any parent there will tell you this. The Porch aspires to have children of all ages participate together in whatever way is appropriate for them. This is a wonderful idea, and one that probably did not come from a parent of small children.

This week Michelle's mother came to church with us for the sole purpose of chasing after Toby. Toby's age-appropriate form of worship is to run around, smile at everybody, and breathe into as many communion glasses as possible. He's also learned how to operate the water cooler. Having Granny at church was wonderful. Michelle was able to participate fully in the gathering and not worry about her boy.

However, her reaction to having found this solution turns out to be more frustration. In a nutshell, her outcry is that she shouldn't have to drag her mother to church or leave Toby with a babysitter in order to worship. Why can't there be a church where both she and Toby can have a fulfilling experience?

Of course there are several. And here is where the polyurethane meets the asphalt, to butcher a figure of speech. Michelle knows that I won't let us leave Solomon's Porch, which is exactly why she feels so free to express her frustration. She doesn't really want to leave either, but a goodly number of former Porchers have. I suppose the 'former' would be redundant.

So that's where we end up, again. I'll let you know if we get any further next Monday.

I guess the only acceptable answer would be a room where toddlers could play during the entire gathering time, not just the sermon, and which was not audibly at one with the gathering space. Maybe if more warm bodies volunteered (hint hint) to help in the children's program, we could make that happen. I don't know.

So after we talked about that we went to the YMCA and worked out, which is a good thing. I lifted weights though, which I don't really enjoy. I only do it when the gym is too crowded to shoot hoops, which is often. I understand some people enjoy it, but I can't fathom it. Kind of like intelligent, right-thinking people voting Republican, I know it happens; it's just a little beyond my comprehension.

So I'm left a little blah. But I'm not in a bad mood. I don't have those.