Weekend again!

And as normal the plan is to spend it talking to brides and grooms to be.

Tomorrow we are working a wedding fair at a big kick-ass venue in Preston.

Munki and her chickenpox have been progressing nicely. She doesn’t look quite so bad now that the  big, angry spots have mostly all blistered and turned into tiny pimples.

But grumpy? Bloody hell, she’s right off the scale!

On Thursday, Lashes and me set off on a few errands, just as we arrived at the supermarket Munki went to sleep. Me and Lashes sat and looked at each other for a minute, neither one of us relishing the thought of waking her up and trawling round a supermarket with her.

Then we noticed the time.

We could just make it to church for the afternoon service, it’s a good speaker today. What do you think? We can put Munki in her pram and she’ll probably sleep right through.

Let’s do it.

So we did, of course the baby didn’t sleep, she woke up as soon as she was lifted into her pram but she was incredibly well behaved in church and quite enjoyed being treated like a celebrity. They haven’t seen her since she was christened so everyone was thrilled to see her and made a big fuss, running round looking for colouring books and pencils, getting drinks and biscuits and generally spoiling her rotten.

It came time for the first hymn and the collection.

Carrying the baby at this point I’d already primed her that she put the the money in the collecting box. It duly came round. Lashes put her money in. I put my money in. Munki hesitated, obviously considered grabbing a handful of money out of the box and then dropped in her 50p coin. The she immediately thought better of it and shouted. “My money!”  But it was too late, it had already been whisked away, much to her disgust.

Next she decided to blow her nose on a tissue. Lashes and me laughed and sang, the church committee behind us laughed and sang and the baby blew and blew and blew her nose.  Then she shouted, “Blow Nanny’s nose”,  and thrust her  snotty tissue straight  into my face, pinching my nose hard in the process while instructing me to “Blow hard, Nanny.”

Eeewwwwwww!!  That’s just dis-gust-ing!!!

Just about everyone else in the church, including the chairman and speaker were smiling all over their faces, Lashes was almost doubled over with laughter. I however rapidly juggled my hymn book, baby and tissue and attempted to clean up baby snot from my face while baby felt my forehead, looking at me worriedly to see if I had a temperature. Disgusting as it all was, I couldn’t help but laugh.

Munki of course, realising that she was supposed to be staying as quiet as a little mouse, decided that it would be a good time to sing, practice her animal impressions and generally invent a few funny sounds as well as give a running commentary on the pictures she was drawing.

She was being a bit disruptive and a baby quickly loses it’s charm when it’s being disruptive. So I took her into the vestry to build jigsaws until I heard the final hymn and we went back in for the close of the service.

Once again, Munki charmed everyone. Sitting after the service with a cup of tea she declared that “This tea is delicious.”  Not something that your average two year old comes out with very often. The pensioners were beaming all over their faces. “oh how sweet. Isn’t she lovely?”

Hhhmmpphhh “You should have seen her an hour and a half ago.”

Enjoying the attention she then  thought that a toast would be in order so she sat bolt upright, raised her cup high saying ‘Cheers’  and toasted everything she could think of.

It was when she said, “Cheers, toilet.” that everyone collapsed with laughter again.

We’d been worried about taking a grumpy, lively two year old into the church with an elderly congregation. It was the best thing we could have done, everyone in the place was lifted by her, she was a breath of fresh air and everyone commented how nice it was to see young people in church. We might even take her again if the occasion arises, children are, after all, the future.

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