Tater Tot’s Church Confession

Tater Tot and I went to my mother’s house late Saturday afternoon with our little bag packed so that we could spend the night and have all day Sunday to visit and play.  

We got up Sunday morning and went to church at First Methodist.  It was wonderful to be home for church, and Poopsie was tickled to death to have her only grandchild with her.  I’ll just go ahead and say it.  The little fella was looking CUTE in his little smocked shortalls and saddle shoes!  And he’s very much a people-person, so the fact that folks were coming over right and left to hug and kiss on him did not bother him one bit.  He managed to do his fair share of hugging and kissing right back.  (He’s only two, but he knows how to work a crowd.)

Eventually, the service started and he seemed to be perfectly happy.  He grinned.  He snuggled up to Poopsie during the prayers, and he tried to sing along with the hymns. He made eyes at the people behind us.  He colored on the bulletin for a few minutes.  And when he started talking I was able to say, “Shhh….let’s whisper,” and he whispered!  For a two-year-old, he was pretty well-behaved, and I was about to give myself a little pat on the back when it happened.

Just as the preacher was getting ready to launch into his sermon, the church got very quiet for a few seconds.  The silence was broken, not by the preacher, but by Tater Tot, who said, “Mama?  I tooted.”

Now, I want to be very clear here.  He did not yell when he made his announcement, so I’m not sure the entire congregation heard it.  He simply told me what had happened in his normal little boy voice.  But in our church, with its soaring ceiling and large space, his voice carried just a smidge.  The people right around us certainly heard it, and that’s when you could hear the sound of muffled laughter and pews shaking.  The folks in the choir loft must have enjoyed watching our little section try to compose ourselves because they appeared to be tickled, too.  (Surely, they couldn’t have heard Tater Tot’s confession, could they?)

I don’t know when we’ll go back to church with Poopsie, but when we do, I’m sure we’ll find her right where we left her.

Hiding underneath the pew.

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5 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Lora Lynn
    Sep 29, 2008 @ 09:53:30

    Hilarious. We take ours into church with us, too. It’s never dull.

    Reply

  2. Melanie
    Sep 29, 2008 @ 15:21:59

    What a riot. And, no doubt, everyone loved him that much more. I would have.

    Reply

  3. Melanie
    Sep 29, 2008 @ 16:39:17

    Oh, by the way, I tagged you over at my blog to share seven random things about yourself. Stop on by to see what I’m talkin’ about.

    Reply

  4. Calista
    Sep 29, 2008 @ 22:53:28

    Oh Tator Tot, you must be related to my children in SOME way!!

    Reply

  5. Trackback: Communion Isn’t ALL He Took « Tater Tales

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