The Hootin Hollar Hillbillies Visit Church

This past Sunday morning we gussied ourselves up and left to visit a new church.
A group of eight going anywhere can attract quite a bit of attention, especially when they can be a bunch of hillbillies, so through the years I have learned a few tricks to try and remain as inconspicuous as possible.

So begins our visit...
We are right on time. There are only six of us today, but the sanctuary is full.
My inclination is to sneak us up to the balcony,
but a usher dutifully guides us to the SECOND ROW!
There is no one on the front row.
This is a huge church which broadcasts its services on the TV and web.
I'm thinking... OK ...We came to worship and somehow, leave it to my crew, we're gonna be on TV...It's OK... It works; we can deal with this...

The service begins and it is beautiful.
The prayer ends and my husband signals me that something is wrong...
I look over to see my baby boy, E , with his head in his hands,
white as a sheet,
covering his mouth...
Supermom rises lithely, "excuse me, excuse me, excuse me"...
I grab the potential "sick one" and proceed back down the aisle of this ginormous church with a slightly embarrassed,
" No you don't know me, but I'm trying to keep your carpets clean" smile pasted on my face.
E is gagging intermittently. What follows seems like an action flick, where we are racing solemnly to the back of the church in slow motion ...
Is it possible to race solemnly?
Apparently so...

Finally, we arrive at the big doors to the exit.
We burst through them to the outside as if coming up for air.
I usher E to the nearest flower bed.
"Yay, no gastric contents inside the church or on TV... This is good..."
My poor guy is white as a sheet bent over the shrubbery.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spy what appears to be the president's own secret service entourage...emerging from all doors on the premises.

YES, I'm serious...
NO, this is not for blogger effect.
The ushers are wired up with inconspicuous little earpieces and tiny devices up their sleeves for talking to..well...the other ushers who have inconspicuous little earpieces and tiny devices up their sleeves.
E and I are bent over the shrubbery and I look up.
One apologizes..."I saw what was happening, I'm sorry I couldn't get to you sooner..."
E recovers enough to want to try and make a dash for the bathroom which is,
you guessed it,
back inside!

It is at this time that the secret service escorts us quietly and reverently back inside,
back down the aisle, to another door.
All the while I have that thin lipped,
" This will be funny in, oh, about a hundred years" smile on my face...
And, behind door number 2... we have the bathroom!
Once inside the bathroom, Secret Service Dude Number One uses his wrist radio to tell someone he needs ice in the bathroom, asap...
Poor, E, he's too sick to notice the precision with which his rescue is taking place.
He would love this.
The ice appears...whereupon Secret Service Dude informs E he can have a Sprite there just as quick if that would help. E, refuses politely and fairly groans," Mom I need to go home."
Secret Service Dude informs me he will escort E out,
while I get my keys...

Oh yeah...My keys...
The ones that are INSIDE MY POCKETBOOK ON THE SECOND ROW OF THIS GINORMOUS CHURCH ON LIVE TV...OK... I can do this...
I paste the, "I'm sorry I'm interrupting your lovely church service again," smile on my face...
Walk down the now well worn aisle, manage to squeeze into the second row, sit ,
bump remaining kids further down the pew.
I signal for my pocketbook. The pocketbook begins the silent journey down the pew,
hand over hand, until finally it is in my hand. I prepare to walk the aisle again...
Oops, almost forgot, I paste the
"I'm sorry I'm leaving before the end of your beautiful service, really" smile on my face...
and walk down the aisle one last time!

Outside E is sitting on the sidewalk accompanied by Secret Service Dude.
I tell him to stay put; I'm going to get the van...SSD informs me that they can drive him to the van in a golf cart, "That's ok," I murmur. Too late,
SSD has already messaged the powers that be;
up pulls the golf cart...

Profuse thanks were showered upon the SSD for being our hero of the day. We ride to the van and I safely tuck E inside...

Once down the road a bit, I gently inform E that if he didn't care for the church,
seriously,
he could just tell me next time...
No smile,
poor E, he really feels bad....

Note to self:
1) I think I'm glad we were not in the balcony! Ugh!
2) I think we'll definitely visit here again;
these people definitely know how to handle their hillbillies!