Over the weekend, I had a chance to attend a hymnfest that was happening at a local church. What's a hymnfest you ask? Well, let's see. Imagine, if you will, Kiss, a Tyrannosaurus rex, 1,000 apple pies, and a year's worth of fireworks all got together for one hour of fun. Now picture the opposite of that.
I kid. In reality, it was rather interesting. In all, it was about two hours of history, choir singing, and Lutheran humor followed by an hour-long coffee and cookie session in a church basement. Not bad. Not bad at all.
The highlight of the afternoon came when we were about 15-20 minutes into the program. At that point, we were far enough along into the program that one could gauge how much of the show was remaining by simply looking at the bulletin. I was bolstering my determination to make it through the program when I happened to look at my dear 82-year old grandma sitting next to me; she had begun to slouch in her chair as her breathing leveled out into a nice, sleepy rhythm. My brother and I had spent the morning with my grandma attending church, dining, and playing Rummikub, and even I, in my youthful, energy-filled state, was beginning to droop. I slightly nudged my grandma to make sure that she kept from snoring when she jumped a little and squinted at me.
"Hey, you woke me up!" she joked as she poked me back.
I could not stop laughing. Being in a chapel filled with people dutifully listening to choir music did not help the situation. Those settings only seem to make things 10x more comical. I dry-heaved and snorted for about 5 minutes before my mother shot me a "SHAPE UP, SON" look. Man, it's been 10 years since I've gotten one of those.
All in all, it was a pleasant afternoon. I just had to share that moment with my grandma.