Shushed. For Shame!

I've been thinking about whether I should write about an incident that occurred on Sunday.

It's kind of stupid, which means that of course I will.

Ever since Anita, who writes the amazing foodie blog Aunt Nubby's Kitchen, shared her story about stuffing her cell phone into her bra and having it ring during a church service, I have realized that my bra is actually a pretty good phone stash spot. Especially since my favorite pants these days don't have pockets.

So I just want to point out early on that this incident is all your fault, Anita. Well, and as usual, Terese figures heavily into the guilt side of this episode as well.

So my iPhone was safely tucked away in my bra, and I had silenced it before we headed to church. I forgot that even in silent mode, my phone vibrates. We had just taken our seats in church. I had just rolled my eyes at John because the kids behind us were yak yak yaking. And then.......my right boob vibrated. I was momentarily taken aback until I remembered that my phone was the cause and that someone had sent me a text message.

I had to think about whether or not I should retrieve the phone in view of the fact that I had just been sarcastic about kids not paying attention in church, but my curiosity got the better of me and I yoinked it from the front of my sweater. Surreptitiously, I thought, but John noticed, of course. And rolled his eyes right back at me indicating that he thought using my phone was probably worse than the kids yakking in the pew behind us.

So the source of my boob vibration was none other than Missy Terese, who was directly above me in the choir loft.

Yes. Gasp. Terese was texting during church.......for shame.

I hid my phone in the hymnal while I read her text and noticed that her phone auto-corrected her name in the text from "Terese" to "ReTweet". Ha! Snort! At this point, I got an elbow nudge from John. (BICJ started to blow a raspberry at him, but I stopped her just in time.) Guess the phone wasn't as hidden as I thought. After the service was over, I hoofed it up to the choir loft. As the church emptied, John and I and Greg plopped down on the back row of the choir chairs.

"Hey, RETWEET!"

Terese laughed. "Stupid autocorrect!"

I waggled my index finger in front of her nose. Haven't we had this discussion before about not texting during church?!

(We have. She's done it before. For shame.)

"Well, didn't you have your phone off? During CHURCH?!"

No, I had it on silent. Which meant that when you texted me, my boob vibrated. Like this.  BRBRBRRRRRRRR! The shimmy at the end added a realistic touch, I thought.

 "Hey! Watch this!" Terese announced to the choir members filtering in for the next service, and whipped out her phone to send me another text.

I immediately covered my chest with that week's bulletin. Gasp! No Way! I'm such a modest person!, I exclaimed. We all snickered and cackled and immediately were shushed by someone, after which we decided to move our party down to the coffee and donuts in the basement.

That's right. I was reprimanded in the choir loft. Sniff. Honestly. Imagine someone wanting a peaceful and respectful setting to pray. Tsk.

So yes, my right boob was vibrating repeatedly during church, I was shushed, (For shame!) and the cause was my very best friend. AND she wanted me to repeat the incident in public! In a choir loft!

Anita....Terese....my, my, my. What AM I going to do with you two....?