I was thinking I might post about how well our last dance class went, until this happened.
I had been thinking about my yearly diatribe against the dreaded and horrifying holiday that happens today. (my favorite day of the year is Nov 1st, because it’s the farthest you can get away from having to celebrate this holiday again.)
Until this happened. (yes, I know that is not really a sentence, but I’m leaving it, so there, HA)
Sunday, October 30, 2011
2:20pm (I know, that seriously SUCKS as a time for church. That’s how you know who is serious about Mormonism: They show up at 2pm for church.)
So, there we were, sitting on the bench at church when a suspicious noise was heard from farther down the bench to my right. I leaned over to obtain more information and was enlightened by Rachel who was looking concerned and pointing to Nick, who is 5. Nick looked at me with a very worried look on his face and I determined (through years of experience and technical know-how) that this kid is probably going to throw up. I direct Rachel to ‘GET HIM OUT OF HERE’. She began to stand when Nick made a second noise…don’t you HATE that noise…and put his head in Rachel’s lap. Rachel’s look changed immediately from concern to abject terror. Nick was about to throw up IN HER LAP.
I leaned over and grabbed Nick. I forbid him to throw up in the chapel and again told Rachel to remove the child. My plan was to send them to the restroom, where I would meet them in a minute and decide what to do. It seemed less disruptive that the entire bench of Cecil Family jumping up and fleeing.
That’s when Nick put his head over MY LAP and THREW UP.
Repeatedly.
I can honestly tell you that my first thought was:
Thank the Lord he did not throw up on the carpet.
My second thought was:
There is something running down my leg.
I pretended not to know what that something was.
Blair jumped to his feet and ran out of the chapel with Dan. Rachel grabbed Nick and ran out. (So much for the unobtrusive departure plan) I took off my jacket and considered ways to get out of the room with a skirt full of barf. If this had been my first experience with being half naked at church, I suppose I would have been more embarrassed. As it was, what I was thinking was that I needed to limit bodily exposure as much as possible because most of the people who saw me half naked last time (sigh) have since moved and the people who live here now consider me to be a modest, conservative, dignified person. (Stop laughing! They DO SO!)
I rolled the skirt up past my knees, stopping before I hit ‘street walker’ and tried to hold my jacket in front of me. I removed my shoes (I don’t want to talk about ‘why’) and headed out.
When I reached the ladies room, Nick was waiting cheerfully for me. He actually said:
Sorry Maren. Sorry I threw up on your dress. I love you. I’m sorry, Maren.
Yes, my son calls me Maren.
Yes, I know it’s weird.
Let’s focus people.
I removed my skirt and shook it out. I examined my possibly ruined shoes. I felt a tiny bit sorry for myself. Then I heard Blair’s voice outside the door, so Nick and I ran out. Blair drove us home.
Once home we undressed, showered and changed. Nick was dressed in sweats and plopped in front of a movie with Melinda who was recuperating from Marching Band Tour. I redressed, cleaned my shoes (which turned out very well, I’m happy to report) and headed back to church.
Never say die.
That’s my motto.
