Old Time Religion
Our first Easter Sunday in Kentucky, only a month or two after we'd moved, we sat behind an woman who looked exactly like an extra from The Waltons - a caricature of a little old lady with the calico dress, the grey pincurls, sensible shoes, a big ugly purse, and a grumpy mean face. In the middle of mass, when her grandson apparently forgot his place and looked in her purse for something to put in the collection basket, she whacked him on the head but good. For a while I was worried that she was a prototype for all of the people we were going to meet in Kentucky. Fortunately, I was wrong, and most Kentucky people had all of their teeth and no real tendency to wail on the young, in or out of church.
Generally speaking, I don't think of church as a place where you should be causing children to cry (they are happy to do it anyway without any interference from you). That is why I felt especially bad when I brought Lauren to tears today at church. We were walking up to communion, Lauren and Aislinn in front holding hands, and Marty holding my hand but trying to pull me to the front of the line. Apparently one of the times I leaned over to try to reel him back in, I got a button from my jacket trapped in Lauren's hair (we were late, it wasn't combed, sue me). The line was moving at a pretty fast clip and there was a brief moment when I thought I was not going to be able to get the button out and I was going to have to shuffle out of church stooped over and attached to the back of Lauren's head (and trying to shepherd the other two). Miraculously, I managed to free myself (see, church does work) and rub Lauren's head for a second before I got to the head of the line.
Later, as we were leaving, I almost got caught again (I think I will pin the blame for the second incident on Marty as well), so I had her put her hood up until we got out of church.
As we were leaving, I wondered if there were any old ladies there who were pleased that I had brought back the old traditions of weeping and mandatory head covers in church. Maybe some of the nasty looks I get there will be replaced by approving nods next week.
Generally speaking, I don't think of church as a place where you should be causing children to cry (they are happy to do it anyway without any interference from you). That is why I felt especially bad when I brought Lauren to tears today at church. We were walking up to communion, Lauren and Aislinn in front holding hands, and Marty holding my hand but trying to pull me to the front of the line. Apparently one of the times I leaned over to try to reel him back in, I got a button from my jacket trapped in Lauren's hair (we were late, it wasn't combed, sue me). The line was moving at a pretty fast clip and there was a brief moment when I thought I was not going to be able to get the button out and I was going to have to shuffle out of church stooped over and attached to the back of Lauren's head (and trying to shepherd the other two). Miraculously, I managed to free myself (see, church does work) and rub Lauren's head for a second before I got to the head of the line.
Later, as we were leaving, I almost got caught again (I think I will pin the blame for the second incident on Marty as well), so I had her put her hood up until we got out of church.
As we were leaving, I wondered if there were any old ladies there who were pleased that I had brought back the old traditions of weeping and mandatory head covers in church. Maybe some of the nasty looks I get there will be replaced by approving nods next week.
posted by Shannon at 9:17 PM
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