Monday, November 24, 2008
This is a picture of Ware Church, which is in neighboring Gloucester County. A very historic church, it was also the scene of some childish behavior from an adult. An adult who shall remain nameless for the time being.
Ware Episcopal Church is one of the few colonial buildings still standing in Gloucester. Dating back to 1690, it served as an encampment for Federal and Confederate soldiers. For over 300 years, services have been--and still are--conducted there.
Recently, Chesapeake Bay Daughter sang at a concert here. Did I mention that Chesapeake Bay Daughter doesn’t really sing? Did I mention this was on a Thursday night, 15 miles from home, at 7:00, which is about 30 minutes before Chesapeake Bay Woman’s eyelids start to droop for the evening?
In any case, Daughter’s class and some of the lower classes gave a little concert, and Chesapeake Bay Son and I were, shall we say, less than excited to be there. The kindergartners sang Itsy Bitsy Spider and a few other standards. Then Chesapeake Bay Daughter’s class sang a song which I’m sure would be familiar to people who are more cultured than we are, but which was entirely lost on me. The song consisted of incessant “la las” and “ma mas” and “mo mos” and “ho hos. It was supposed to be a serious song, but all I could hear was gibberish.
Here, sitting in this historic church, where many solemn ceremonies have been held for over 300 years, where soldiers once encamped—-yes, here, in this serious, austere environment listening to a concert, Chesapeake Bay Woman started to laugh. She quickly caught herself and tried to straighten up, since all the teachers and the school’s headmaster were standing directly behind her.
But Chesapeake Bay Woman’s snicker spurred Chesapeake Bay Son to snort. Which made Chesapeake Bay Woman laugh even more. Trying to get her brain to focus on anything, such as the theory of relativity or the laws of economics, did not distract Chesapeake Bay Woman from wanting to laugh. Her face became red and tears started flowing down her cheeks. And poor Chesapeake Bay Son! The next thing you know I spontaneously pinched him, not to be mean, but to be playful.
This only made us laugh more.
Thankfully the end was in sight and before we could say, “Chesapeake Bay Woman is really not a very good role model for proper behavior in a historic church environment,” it was over and done.
I’m pleased to report that Chesapeake Bay Son did not get in trouble due to his mother’s antics. But that’s only because they didn’t see what I did in the parking lot when some imbecile blocked me in. I had no idea my car was capable of driving over barricades, and to the poor souls whose graves I may have driven on—I mean near, yes, that’s it I drove NEAR some graves—please accept my sincerest apologies.