If you expect church on Sunday morning to be good, clean and wholesome... think again!
Yesterday, Ricky and I were late to church. All of the pews in the sanctuary were full. So, I thought let's go sit in the balcony (as Ricky always wanted to do anyway). Granted there is no elevator. I was wearing a skirt, thus Ricky had to scoop and carry me upstairs.
Once we safely hit the top of the landing, Ricky set me down to get his bearings and figure out where to plop me. A man in the second row saw us and moved to give us his seat. Thankful that it was only one step up, Ricky swept me up again.
As he set my feet on the floor, I whisper in his ear, "Ricky! My skirt is falling!" Thinking I'm overreacting, he dismissed my comment for the moment. Until he saw my skirt. Around my ankles. I'd like to say the congregation was praying and heads were bowed. But alas, that would have been too convenient. I was our side of the balcony's spectacle. I tried to sit down, my legs wouldn't bend, women ran over to help dress my unclothed half, and I could not stop laughing. It was so hysterical! I hadn't even seen something that funny happen in church.
Yes, I eventually got covered.
Yes, I should have been mortified.
Yes, choir members from on-stage mentioned seeing us in the balcony.
Little did those poor, innocent families anticipate a strip-tease at church that morning!
