Six year old boys fidget, and in particular, at recitals and at Church. Not only does he not want to be there, he can't stand it that you can't talk, pick your nose, or put your feet on the chair in front of you. In the very quiet moments of a service or recital, I have often wondered what would happen if someone farted very loudly just then. At last night's service, William gave us the opportunity to find out. During the solemn sacrament of the baptism of four infants. Lauren, Anna and William began to laugh in that hysterical way you do when know you shouldn't laugh, but in looking at others laughing, you start losing control and tears begin to form. Lauren quickly got control. I was facing away, and dared not look back, or Anna and I would feed on each other's laughter and really lose it. I heard the boys behind me snickering. Lord a' mercy, boys sure are a treat to raise.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
He Didn't Learn That From Me
Six year old boys fidget, and in particular, at recitals and at Church. Not only does he not want to be there, he can't stand it that you can't talk, pick your nose, or put your feet on the chair in front of you. In the very quiet moments of a service or recital, I have often wondered what would happen if someone farted very loudly just then. At last night's service, William gave us the opportunity to find out. During the solemn sacrament of the baptism of four infants. Lauren, Anna and William began to laugh in that hysterical way you do when know you shouldn't laugh, but in looking at others laughing, you start losing control and tears begin to form. Lauren quickly got control. I was facing away, and dared not look back, or Anna and I would feed on each other's laughter and really lose it. I heard the boys behind me snickering. Lord a' mercy, boys sure are a treat to raise.
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9 comments:
I have decided that you are going to be my "go-to" girl! Check out my blog...I have given birth...to a BOY! Yikes! I am used to girls!
I'll never forget being in church one time and was watching this little boy make these horrible faces with his mouth wide open. I thought he was having seizure, couldn't take my eyes off of him. Finally he tugged on his Mom's skirt and said, "Momma, I got a yawn so big it won't fit in my mouth..." I had to leave because the laughter boiling in my throat would have brought the whole sermon to a halt. Isn't that the greatest joy ever though, that abondoned laughter?! Love it!
All three of my boys has thought burping and farting was funny from a very young age. When my oldest started laughting when someone burped when he was 18 months old, I knew I was in for it.
he can't stand it that you can't talk, pick your nose, or put your feet on the chair
Amen! I feel the same.
I feel your pain.
I am currently trying to teach my 2 year-old son proper table etiquette.
As you can see, things are going quite well.
Robin, You are right. I love to laugh to the point you are crying and this high pitched Mickey Mouse laugh comes from somewhere deep inside you and you cry "Stop!!!!" but all the while you are enjoying the release. As for the boy, Congrats, and message left on your blog.
Kristina, times three. And you didn't warn me!
Travis, um, but he's six.
Pack - Give him a few years and he'll be shoving the food in too fast to play around with his plate. Beautiful boy. He looks like his daddy.
The correct response when a young child farts is church is, "Nice echo!" The kid is going to lose control to laughter anyway, you might as well destroy him completely and have a little fun in the process.
Ah, the big question is: in addition to being sonic, did it contain enough methane to clear the aisle?
Thank goodness the tears were from laughter and not holding your breath!
one of the downsides of growing up Catholic with all of its "ups and downs" during Mass was that it left open opportunities for fun if you happened to be unlucky enough to sit in front of a group of pranksters. I attended a welcome Mass before starting my freshman year at Big Moe. Behind me were some seniors whose job it was to make the young incoming frosh feel like part of the community. Well, we were all seated in those awful metal folding chairs, the kind that rust instantly on deployment and squeak like the front door of Norman Bates' mansion. During the Eucharistic prayer, sometime between the Alpha and the Omega, the boys behind me, "Men of Moeller" as they were called, tied my beltloop to the metal chair with a shoestring. As I stood the next time, the chair came with me, folded, and crashed on the tile floor with me on top of it. Honestly, I can't believe I didn't try to sneak into first day of class at Mt Notre Dame that year :-)
PITA - ah, no, his bark is worse than his bite, uh smell. If, however, he'd removed his shoes, I'm sure the whole place would've cleared out.
Mark, how sad people can be so cruel. They had the opportunity to mentor and they chose to be like that. You should have come over to MND - I've often wondered about the reason that they separated people that had been raised together based solely on gender and so I never again saw people I considered family.
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