Mortified — in Public — in CHURCH!

MORTIFIED in Church!  Hilarious Humiliation in Front of the Whole Congregation! #funny #kids #parenting #Church #profanity #school #humor

So then…the little 2nd-graders march respectfully up the aisle and step up to surround the altar. They turn to face the congregation and we all smile at the girls in their sweet little white dresses and the boys in their handsome miniature suits.

It’s a gaggle of 20 kids in their Sunday best, hair slicked back, bows and veils, new bracelets, tiny ties, and shiny shoes. Today is the culmination of a year of religious study so they can now receive their First Holy Communion.

David and I beam at our son Tucker as he stands quietly, but fidgety, amongst his fellow Communicants. I’m dying to take a photo of Tucker, age 6 — but it’s frowned upon to do so in Church, during the Mass itself – and I don’t want to call any attention to myself, so I resist.

We have a great view because we snagged seats in a pew close to the altar on the right hand side. David and I are dressed up, proud as can be, and looking forward to celebrating with friends at brunch after Mass. Chloe’s three years old, so she’s “reading” a hymn book upside down.

Father Tom’s finishing up his sermon about the importance of First Holy Communion, which the children are only able to receive after they have completed the Sacrament of Reconciliation — the confessing of their sins.

He tells the parishioners, “It’s always interesting to hear the confessions of “sins” of 2nd-graders! They’re so young; they don’t get up to much mischief at this age!”

Everyone smiles.

Father Tom gently teases the congregation by saying, “However, I will say that some of the children confessed to using some very bad swear words — and I wonder where they heard that kind of language?”

Everyone grins.

Then Tucker, who is standing on the altar in front of the whole congregation, turns to face our side of the Church and POINTS HIS FINGER directly, and accusingly, at David and me.

Everyone bursts out laughing.

And stares directly at us.  (Us, the vile heathens who spew profanity in front of our impressionable young son.)

David and I are mortified. We scrunch down as low as possible in the pew.

Tucker is surprised at the reaction. His expression is basically: Father Tom asked a question – and I answered it – what’s the big deal?

I am going to kill him.

And yes, I will confess it to Father Tom.

And he’ll absolve me because it’s a purely justified homicide. Three Hail Mary’s and one Our Father, and I’m good to go.

— Darcy Perdu

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Original Illustration for So Then Stories by Stefano Marchio

(Have your kids embarrassed YOU in public? Any mishaps in church or synagogue? Do YOUR kids know some salty swear words?)

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21 replies on “Mortified — in Public — in CHURCH!

  1. Pearline said:

    That’s hilarious! My youngest (5) is a sponge, he will repeat something you’ve said in the room even if he’s on the other side seemingly involved in his game or cars, but later he says…”Mom said _____”! So now I’m very careful with what I say when he is in the room!

    Funny then, how I have to repeat myself about 5 times before he hears me tell him .. “Bathtime!”

  2. Kristi said:

    So when I was about 9 and my brother was about 4, I heard this “hilarious” joke about a kid learning English. His teacher asked him to learn a word each day. The first day he saw an airplane and his mom explained that it was “taking off.” The second day he saw a “zebra,” and that was his word for the day. The last day he pointed to his brother and learned the word for “baby.” When his teacher asked what he’d learned, he said, “Take off ze bra, baby!”

    I must have told it enough that my brother heard it, because in the middle of church the next Sunday he yelled the punchline from the pew. “TAKE OFF ZE BRA, BABY!”

    We switched churches shortly after.

    • That’s a great joke!! I love that it makes the joke-teller have a French accent with his brash request!

  3. ha ha!! Great story, Darcy, we all learn how to deflect blame so early in age…I love it. It’s just a basic instinct.

  4. Betty said:

    I was once a very frazzled young mother of a super bouncy active 3 year old and a 6 week old. I was trying to do a little Black Friday shopping at a store with both kids and my mother in tow. The stores were beyond filled to capacity, and my mom had my youngest in the carseat in a shopping cart sleeping away, and I was trying to hold my daughter’s hand as she bounced and skipped up and down the aisles filled with hundreds of people. I thought I finally had it all figured out when I had her trapped at the end of an aisle while I looked at clothing on both sides-and an emergency exit door at the end. I had gently whispered in her ear “don’t you dare touch that door or I will kill you” and she was playing with the clothes and the racks and I thought I might catch a break.

    Not so much!! I looked up just in time to see her, both paws on the bright red door handles pressing down!

    Alarms went off, employees started screaming and rushing towards us.

    I scooped her up quickly trying to be nonchalant like “oh no,my kid didn’t do THAT, it must’ve gone off by itself” and tried to put some serious distance between us and the door — Quickly!

    Just then my daughter starts screaming at the top of her lungs “PLEASE DON’T KILL ME!!”

    • That’s a hilarious story! I would have been mortified! I might even have dropped my daughter in another mom’s shopping cart and pretended I had no idea who that little kid was! Ha!

  5. My sister-in-law tells us that when the wind blew over our 10×10 pop-up canopy, and it blew across the yard like a ginormous white spider that landed on it’s back, my then 2-year-old yelled, “GOD!!!……….SHIT!!!!”.

    She may have been lying, for your see, she is now an ex-sister-in-law who has divorced EVERYBODY, and I mean the WHOLE DANG FAMILY — but hey, I’m a bitter, cranky musician who swears like a sailor….a sad, pasty sailor who works in a home studio.

    • Your comment cracked me up! You may be bitter, cranky, profane, and pasty — but hey — you’re FUNNY — and that’s best trait of all!

  6. Dee Revere said:

    My nephew, Tommy, was about 3 years old when he, my sister, my mother, and I went to a Pizza Hut for lunch. Excited, Tommy ran ahead of us, pushed open the front door, and skipped in. I reached the door just in time to see Tommy trip on the rug a few feet inside the door. He went down hard, but rebounded quickly. As soon as he regained his feet, he turned around and screamed, “Quit pushing me, Dee Ann!”

    I remember chuckling at first because I was still several feet behind him. But then I had to vocalize a defense quickly when I realized everyone in the restaurant was giving me the evil eye!

    I still admire Tommy’s quick thinking: What me trip? No way, I must have been pushed! (My cat has the same world view.) Admit nothing, deny everything, make counter-accusations. Works every time.

    • That is hysterical! If Tommy is such a quick thinker at age 3, I can only imagine what his teenage skills will be! And I love your cat’s world view — I’m adopting it! (The world view, not the cat.)

  7. baaaahahahaha omg!! That’s hilarious! I can’t believe he totally gave u guys up!!! Children are so funny, they are so innocent they can’t even understand why this stuff is embarrassing.
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  8. Heatherly said:

    I remember when I was about 8 or 9… My mom, my 3 or 4 year old sister and I went grocery shopping. It started as a typical trip of meandering up and down the aisles and was one of the few times that my mother had actually been able to wrestle my little sister into the cart (she was a whiz-bang bundle of energy and nearly impossible to keep track of). At the end of one of the aisles my mom parked the cart near an end-cap display of champagne and turned her back on my sister for a just a brief moment (I was otherwise occupied…by what, I don’t remember, but I was right near the cart). I was nearly startled out of my wits (as was my poor mother) by what sounded like rapid glassy little explosions, followed by a virtual tsunami of champagne. My sister had managed to pull one of the lower bottles out of the display, thus making one entire side collapse in catastrophic glory. I was drenched up to my knees in champagne and sobbing, my mother was absolutely horrified and my sister was enthusiastically clapping her hands at the impromptu show. My mother grabbed me by the hand, yanked my sister out of the cart and we ran for the nearest exit – never to return to that store again.

    • That’s awesome! Your poor mother! She should have just opened her mouth and enjoyed some of that flowing champagne!

  9. And so – this is what happens when you take a four year old child to a church of a denomination not your own. It’s a long story, but I hope it’s worth the wait.

    I used to work for a bank, and one of our customers was a member of a Pentecostal church which was erecting a new building. We’d chat on Friday nights, and I remember him telling me that his daughter had gone to school to be a hair-dresser, but the church elders forbade her to work in a beauty shop, because the Bible says women shouldn’t cut their hair.

    As a kindness, the customer invited me – and my daughter – to the dedication. Now, my dad was an Episcopal priest, so I’ve been to church a few times in my life, and I do understand that God speaks to each of us differently. If this group had come to our parish, they’d still be waiting for it to start, while we were marching out.

    We arrived late, of course. I wore a black velvet sheath with a white lace dickey. I was the only woman there with a sleeveless dress, I was the only one wearing makeup, I was the only one without a hat, and naturally the only one with short hair. AND, I was the only one there with Tracy, who was, as I said, four years old.

    First time in her life the child voluntarily genuflected, and I tripped over her. So here is this drunken hussy and her Papist offspring sprawled in the aisle. I managed to maneuver both of us into a pew, and Tracy, in that voice children seem to reserve for sacred places, asked if this was a “real church? They don’t have any kneelers.”

    A short explanation about THAT, and we settled down. These folks honestly enjoy their religion, and there was a steel guitar, drums, a banjo, and who knows what all. The congregation was putting their hands in the air, and Tracy decided to get into the spirit of things. Honestly, you’d have thought the child had grown up in the Red Light district.

    “Can you tone it down a bit? After all, this IS God’s house.”

    “Yeah, but all they’re playing is Hee-Haw music.”

    I decided that was a good a time as any to leave the service.
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  10. Cindy said:

    And so, a beautiful summer day. Baby in the playpen and me in a chair with a book, under the tree in the front yard. Seven year old daughter playing in the yard somewhere. Mailman walks up to the fence just as the front door bursts open and my 4 year old son comes running out and down the front walk, laughing maniacally, in his cowboy boots and cowboy hat — and not another stitch of clothing. Not horribly embarrassing, but still. LOL

    • Thanks for the laugh! Reminds me of when David was in hotel room on business trip about to take a shower. He tried on the new cowboy boots he had just bought, but then couldn’t get them off! Had to call the bellman to help him pull the boots off – while he was naked! David, that is, not the bellman. Although who KNOWS? Maybe the bellman joined in on the naked cowboy boots fun!

  11. Emily said:

    Today, I took my 8 and 11 yo on a trip to a lake for a church swimming trip.

    It’s my mom’s church and she’s ridiculously socially conscious. For example, she once reamed me out (I was 34 at the time) for saying “fart” in front of a preacher, who eventually responded “damn right” in the conversation.

    The pastor was pouring sodas at lunch for the few kids who had come and he asked my daughter what drink she would like. She told him that her favorite drink was a margarita but she’d settle for Dr. Pepper.

    At the startled look on his face, she told him not to worry because she didn’t drink the ones with alcohol often. Mama (me) kept those in the freezer and wouldn’t give her more than a taste when her friends came over, but those frozen ones really were the best.

    My mother still isn’t speaking to me.

    • So funny! I’m sure your mom is worried the pastor refers to you as the “alcoholic gas-passer!”