Parents could sing without having to keep tiny hands off the pages of the hymnal for fear of that sickening sound echoing high into the rafters....Rip!
Oh, how wonderful that would be!
And, even better, it could be open on Thursday evenings during choir practice. More adults would join the choir and wouldn't have to pay for a babysitter! Grace and Jo would trade off watching the lovely children and...another brilliant idea...we could teach them about their Catholic faith through song and dance and coloring!
Such dutiful Catholics...
So, it was all wrecked. Everything. Ruined.
No more bowling alley. No more balance beam. No more sliding down the stairs with the couch cushion.
Why, oh, why does my mother have to always get involved?
"Because, Dear Heart, if God gives you a gift you must use it in service to Him. You share your time and your talent so others might do the same."
So advises, with a raised eyebrow and a calm, steady, English teacher tone, Mylin. My mother always gives a rebuttal with a formal tone and a raised brow.
It was at this point I became aware that she would expect the same from me.
I am scared...