Lord Have Mercy

So there we sat in the last pew like four peas in a pod -- my mom Kuku, myself, Mr. Ex and J-Fed. Talk about strange bedfellows. I noticed the two men checking the sleeves of their dress shirts often. I guess they were searching for embers
or playing some bizarre version of I Spy. After growing board of this exercise, I watched J-Fed eyes scan the sanctuary. His eyes fell upon a family in the fourth of fifth row. J-Fed leaned in to Mr. Ex and I and whispered, "look, they even have the Amish here."

I did my best not to burst out laughing. Those "Amish" people were actually church members dressed up as pilgrims for part of the service, which was also in honor of Thanksgiving, a fact J-Fed was well aware of.

"You dunce. They're supposed to be pilgrims. Are you crazy?" I whispered.

Mr. Ex laughed under his breath, most likely cause he was probably thinking the same thing... as J-Fed.
At first, J-Fed didn't believe me. He was still convinced they were Amish and somewhere in the parking lot, they had parked their horse and buggy. Did I mention we live in South Florida? Anyhow, by the time the "Amish" got up to reenact part of the early Thanksgiving feast, J-Fed might have been having doubts. One will never know.

What I do know is that there is no place in church for J-Fed OR Mr. Ex. To be blunt, they have a real hard time behaving. IN fact, I believe it's their incredible discomfort in sitting in such a holy place that prevents them from enjoying the experience. Instead they crack jokes, fiddle, shift, tap and do everything in their power to see if they can make time fly -- which they can't.

Rest assured, someone took notice of J-Fed and Mr. Ex's behavior during the inter-faith service and that someone is the man upstairs. When it comes to the end of days, I won't be standing anywhere near these two. But at least they'll have each other...