I was at church yesterday, as usual, however with the not so usual experience. In fact my experience at church yesterday was particularly horrendous if you want the truth. In looking back at yesterday, I can only laugh at the humiliation I suffered from the past day.

It all started out the same; Choir singing, people happy, elderly people flirting with my kids, kids fighting over the bulletins, etc. Then suddenly, like a 400 pound brick crashing from the Empire State Building, things changed.

It began with my oldest child having to use the bathroom. This too is typical for any day. She does spend a lot of the time in the bathroom. Anyway, she quietly excused herslef, and left. That was fine. in the time that she was gone, my one-yr-old son decided to play with the old man sitting behind me. He loves my son, and tries to find a way to sit next to him every Sunday. My son loves the attention, so he plays gleefully with him. Anyway, after a while pf playing my son decides to get cranky. I am fighting with him to keep him still.

Not as typical on my behalf, I was wearing a button down shirt. During my sons temper tantrum, he decided to grab my shirt and throw himself back against the pew in front of us. That is when I suspect that my shirt busted open. However I cannot be sure. Which truthfully is the scary part. Regardless of when it happened, I unknowingly sat there with my shirt completely opened for at least a few minutes. In the meanwhile, Ileyah returned from the bathroom, only to ask if she could excuse herself again. I had said no that she should be able to hold it since she had just gone.

As I am fighting to keep my son still some more, I feel a breeze. That is when my face turned bright purple. I felt like the prostitute that the pastor was talking about. I quickly pulled my shirt together and buttoned that. As I was buttoning the last button, Ileyah jumped up and screamed as loud as she could, "I can't hold it no more!!!" She runs out of the church. At this point I am looking around to make sure she didn't catch any attention towards my now partially closed shirt.

In about five minutes, and much humiliation later, the head usher calls me to exit the church. i got up and left my two youngest children with my brother-in-law Marcus. I ran downstairs to see Ileyah crying and needing assistance. While I was down there, I guess Brandina thought I left the church, so she began to scream. So Marcus, leaving Dontae (my son) in the church with the ushers, ran Brandina to come find me. She was screaming and hollering, so it took a minute, but I convinced her to come back into the church with me.

As I am walking back into the sanctuary, I hear my son screaming, now he thought that we all left him there. I then had to comfort him. Anyway, by that time he was so worked up that I had to go back downstairs and wait the rest of the service down there.

Part of me just wanted to leave, the other half wanted the love and support of some of the other moms there. It was honestly humiliating.

This is why it is my belief that every church in the entire world needs to have a nursery.

At the end of the night we ended up at the pastors house for dinner. I went through my experience with him, and he laughed so hard he began to cry. I guess he finds my humiliation to be quite funny.