I live in an apartment with five other girls, so Sunday mornings can be a bit of an adventure. Straighteners, blow dryers, curling irons, regular irons, bobby pins, and make up littered all over our bathroom counter among the many exchanges of clothing. If only boys understood what chaos ensues before we make it to church. I only include boys in that statement because most likely girls do know what the process is like. The funny thing is that it’s not necessarily for anyone in particular, we just like getting dressed up. So often during the week we all run out the door before 8 with an apple to-go and no makeup on. It’s rather refreshing to take the time to look our best. An insignificant reason I like Sundays, but a reason nonetheless.