Sunday Church

Yesterday at church during the "meet and greet" (insert eye-roll), I introduced myself to the elderly lady directly behind me. After telling her my name, she asked me if she could give me a comb.

"Why?" I asked.

To which she responded, "To comb your little doggy."

TO COMB MY LITTLE DOGGY?!?

Unaware of my current state of speechlessness, my very good friend chose that moment to walk across the sanctuary to greet me in a much more appropriate way (ie, "Hi! I saw your beautiful, curly hair from across the room and couldn't wait to say hello!")

While Cari was helping to coax me out of my state of shock, the elderly woman was continuing the monologue with my husband, informing him of the comb, the little doggy, and my obvious need.

There were many inappropriate responses that were running through my head during my pastor's sermon on "See that no one pays back evil for evil, but always try to do good to each other and to everyone else." (1 Thes. 5:15)

I will not write any of my responses here, but I will say that I continued to poof out my hair throughout the service.

Grrr....