Somewhere in the middle of last night I was walking arm in arm with Paul when he remarked that it was good he didn’t have meetings until late the next afternoon.
I replied I’ll be up at eight to attend a Church of England primary school Easter service!
The morning started with music blasting and Jeffrey telling a story about how he tried to convince everyone that Elliot Smith’s Either/Or is a Christmas album (I agree, or at least, I listened to it a lot during the recent festive season), then we were out the door and on our way, improbably, to church.
Before the children even started to sing I’d managed to spill scalding tea all over my hands and the floor of Great St. Mary’s. Jeffrey offered me his banana to cool my singed fingers and when I refused proceeded to fondle and play with it, hiding it in my gloves and snapping photographs.
Byron texted If I misbehave will you take me out of here?
Jeffrey answered out loud When I finish this coffee I’m going to have a conniption fit! Then the noise all the babies are making won’t matter!
I kept shushing them but all three of us were completely restless while most of the other parents sat and beamed at the adorable English children acting out scenes of crucifixion and resurrection.
Though Richard was sitting in the pew in front of me and I did see him smack his forehead during the sermon.
The minister (pastor? Priest? Byron grew up with a minister father and he doesn’t even know what the proper honorific is) started an elaborate story including the query How much water is there in a man’s body?
Jeffrey hissed What about whiskey?
It is good that I’ve lost my voice from too much laughter, as I would have been giggling uncontrollably throughout the entire service.
My brilliant son surprised me by singing a solo – he didn’t tell me he would be performing at all!
It was a shocking thrill to hear his pristine voice ringing through the huge old church.