That's why I'm easy...

Whoever wrote that lyric "Easy Like Sunday Morning" obviously didn't go to church on those mornings.  Especially not on time change Sunday.  Getting ready for Sunday mornings as a family is traditionally a helter skelter sort of occasion in which usually a lot of threats about getting your ass in gear so we can go worship Jesus get thrown around.  It's not so much that way now that Olivia is 12. In fact, she's usually the one ready to go and tapping her foot for me to get it in gear now.

I am a minister's daughter. Go ahead and quit thinking all that stuff about minister's daughters right now. That's not the point. My point is that I've been doing this getting ready on Sunday morning my whole life except for the 7 years when I lived in Nashville (during which period I always just said I was still looking for a church when that query arose).  I don't bring this up as some sort of faith contest or anything.  I can assure you that whether I like you or not has very little to do with who, where or whether you worship.

I'm mentioning Sunday mornings because almost every Sunday morning there's this huge battle in the closet with what I'm going to wear. We look nice on Sundays at our church, but to be honest, I don't think other members of the congregation really spend their time assessing what clothes folks show up in each week. It's just an internal pressure that I feel - nothing anyone else imposes, but I have other friends who grew up in church who also have this battle on Sunday mornings so I think it's a real thing.  Also, I think there's value in getting out of my yoga pants once a week.  So most Sunday's begin in a frantic search through skirts and boots and tights and dresses and end with me saying, "Screw it. Jesus forgives and so can the Baptists."  Then I just throw on my favorite boots and something that doesn't show any lumps and Kenny grabs the tic-tacs and off we go.

We like to hold hands and walk the block and a half so usually the fresh air gives me a minute to put things in perspective.  This week the gorgeous weather made picking something out difficult - none of us are ready for summer clothes, but a grey dress just seems like an insult to the 70 degree temps.  I went with a blue Anthropologie dress with a v-neck that's sort of a prairie style and a pair of boots. It has some ruffle. I landed in this dress after I had tried on 4 or 5 others and realized I had approximately one minute and 45 seconds to hit the door.  This is a dress that I really don't prefer, but every time I wear it someone says they like it so I figure there must be something that I'm just not seeing in it.  I think maybe it makes me look like I have boobs.  I only realized halfway to church that I'd left on the gold circly disco sort of necklace that I'd tried on with a dress two outfits back and hoped maybe nobody would care that my jewelry didn't really work.

So anyway, there we are in our usual spot next to my mama and I'm trying to remember if I even put lip gloss on while the children's minister talks to the little ones about prayers.  Kenny hands me a tic tac which I pop in my mouth. Or at least I meant to pop it in my mouth.  Only I missed my mouth and the tic tac lands very precariously in the circly necklace just above my cleavage.  Holy moly if there's ever a moment for stillness this is it.  Thinking no one has witnessed this and with the delicacy of a surgeon, I dislodge the candy from its golden perch and move it to my mouth just as Kenny leans over and whispers, "Whew. That was close."  Have you ever tried not to laugh in church?  That's pretty much like asking me not to cry at a Hallmark commercial.  That's like asking me not to say "Awwww" at a puppy video.  Prayer time is of course the worst possible moment to laugh if you are in a church service.  But there I am shoulders shaking, hand over mouth and gut heaving with effort not to guffaw.  Kenny is begging, whisper pleading with me to stop which of course, only makes me snicker more. It's like he doesn't know me at all! The worst thing to do at this moment is tell me what I shouldn't do. He is now starting to giggle a little and says, "Please don't snort" because he knows this is entirely within the realm of possibility and which actually makes it way more likely that I will.  Thank goodness we went to the choir's anthem so I had a few minutes to make sure and keep my own joyful noise to myself.

Looks like the wrong necklace saved my reputation of being a well behaved church goer this morning. I would have had to wait until the offertory to figure out how to get that tic-tac out of my dress if it hadn't.  Next week maybe we'll take gum.