I fell asleep during the sermon in church this morning. Leah pinched me. I’d started snoring. Church was not an overly religious experience for the Stoddards today. I didn’t like the opening hymn, so I sang “watermelon” over and over again instead of the actual lyrics. Then I sang the next one in old person vibrato voice. That earned me another pinch, and an oh-so-Episcopalian half-turn-of-the-head from Noah’s (or Aidan’s?) Godmother, whom I deliberately sat behind so I could bother her. I pulled out my pocket knife during the Our Father to sharpen the pencil Sam was drawing with. Again, pinched.
I caught a broadcast of an old Monty Python sketch on Leah’s Sirius radio-machine-thingy the other night. I’d never heard it before, and Monty Python sits on the left hand side of God in my book (Brian sits on the right). I actually sat in our driveway with the lights off for a couple minutes so I could hear the entire sketch.
I haven’t given much thought to Monty Python lately. I think it’s about time I watched all the classics again. The only one I won’t need to bring back into the rotation is the “Ministry of Silly Walks”. Sam refreshed my memory of that particular one this morning.
Walking down to the children’s chapel, he decided to jump on one foot down a flight of stairs. Which he successfully navigated without a face plant, I might add. The best part came later, though.
Sam likes to hold both Leah’s and my hands when we walk up to communion. Nothing changed this morning, except that as we approached the steps up to the altar, up came his right foot. Permanently. An extra weight was applied to my hand.
Hop . . .Hop . . .
Before he could get to the last hop on top step, Leah saw what was happening and lifted him by the hand she was holding over to the altar. Sam received his blessing, thereby erasing any sins from the past two minutes. He grabbed my hand. He grabbed Leah’s hand. We walked back to the steps. Sam stopped at the top step. An extra weight was applied to my hand.
This time, Sam was in full crouch position, preparing to launch himself from the top step in a post-communion leap of faith.
Again, it was Leah’s end that exerted sanity and control, bringing our child back down from orbit. The remainder of our walk back to the pew was just as entertaining, with Sam doing a modified twist/electric slide down the aisle and into his seat.
I suppose I should have done something to stop him, but who was I to cast a stone?
ZZZZZzzzzzzzz. . .
