Reporting Julie Fisk
When I was a kid, church was a stoic occasion. You sat quietly, pretended to listen and basically waited until it was snack time (Communion). You DID NOT mess around! If you DID mess around, which usually consisted of dozing off or coughing one too many times, my Dad’s reaction was swift and severe. He would clamp one talon-like hand on your shoulder and deliver, in a hot blast of church breath, 3 dreaded words:
“I’m warning you.”
That’s all it took.
I don’t know exactly what he was going to do and thankfully I never found out because it sounded AWFUL.
Imagine my Dad’s surprise the first time he went to church with MY family. His eyes lingered on the arsenal of goodies I packed for my kids. The dry cereal for snacking, American Girl dolls, coloring books & crayons, which were pointless because they really just want to decorate the hymnals. I bring these on TOP of the Quiet Bags the church provides for kids.
The name “Quiet Bags” is a cruel joke in itself since all of the bags contain Legos. If you’re not aware, a single Lego dropped on the floor of a quiet church sounds roughly like a brick being thrown through a window.
We’re not the only ones who do this, by the way. Most of the Mom’s bring extra “Quiet Bags,” and if you peek under any pew it will resemble a Cheerio’s factory.
None of these things managed to keep my children from whining, so I decided to adopt my Dad’s method. A tight grip on the shoulder and an angry whisper, “I’m warning you.”
She responded with, “Mommy, you smell like you’ve been eating diapers.”
Well played child, well played.
But we ARE coming back and next Sunday, if it helps, I just MIGHT eat diapers first.