Diaper Daze

      There are three things most sacred in southern society - faith, family and football... sometimes not necessarily in that order!  If you happen to have grown up in the South, you understand the importance of religion in southern culture.  The South isn't called the "Bible Belt" for nothing.  Most southerners "cut their teeth" on church pews!  Between Sunday services, church socials, mid-week Bible studies and revival meetings, most southern children spent half their childhood on old wooden church pews.  I know I did.  Our church services weren't limited to an hour or two like most modern schedules - not at all!  We "tarried until"  many a night.  For what, I wasn't always certain, but I soon learned to  fall asleep on cedar planks or pine boards  just as easily as my big old comfy poster bed at home.  Think of sleeping on a two by four - you'll get the idea.  There isn't much I haven't seen in church.  People rarely let inconveniences stop them from participating in church activities, so you never knew what might be "brought" into the church house or what you might see, hear or experience.  Sometimes, people came to church just so folks wouldn't talk about them.  News of heathen ways spread faster than an epidemic, so church attendance was a sure fire way not to be the talk of the town.  Of course that "talk" was always prefaced with "we need to pray for them - bless their hearts."  I never could understand how gossip coupled with prayer seemed to make it okay somehow.  Well nonetheless, church folks weren't just acquaintances in the community, they were family and you know how that goes. "I can talk about my family, but you'd better not even think about talking about them" as they say. 

        I came from a long line of church going family.  My grandfather was a minister, two of my uncles were ministers, a cousin... and I won't even mention my ex's!  That topic is something that a southern lady keeps to herself - well and between her close girlfriends.  As for the family ministers.  My oh my, the stories they've shared over the years.  Once, my uncle was scheduled to speak at a visiting church.  He wasn't feeling well at all, but couldn't cancel the preaching engagement.  You see, we could never use the excuse that we were sick.  After all, the Bible talked about healing and even how folks were raised from the dead, so, no sir, there weren't any excuses!  Just before the service that night, my uncle's sickness got the best of him in the worst possible way.  He felt the urge to find a bathroom and fast!  Unfortunately, his stomach was faster than his legs and he ended up in quite a "mess" literally.  He stripped down, removed his soiled underpants, disposed of them and freshened himself up the best he could.  A men's restroom in an old country church was a far cry from a gentleman's lounge at the country club.  There were no little bottles of sweet smelling soap or lotion, no warm cloths or towels.  Uncle dressed himself, regained his composure, tried to settle his nervous stomach the best he could, and found his way to the sanctuary, where he sat on the front pew waiting for his time at the podium.  Soon, the service began and the choir began to sing.  Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a lady at the other end of the front pew where he sat.  She was holding a small baby.  She began a strange ritual of "sniffing."  Only a mother knows about such a ritual.  She would sniff, pull back the baby's diaper for a quick peek and then rub the baby on the stomach.  This went on for several minutes in intervals. What this poor young mother did not realize was that the "diaper daze" she was experiencing with her baby wasn't her baby at all.  It was my smelly old uncle!  Soon enough, he was summoned to the pulpit for the evening sermon.  I imagine it was his shortest sermon ever, but to add insult to injury, he was one not to stay behind the pulpit.  He was a "walker."  He would walk along the front of the sanctuary as he preached.  Each time he passed by the lady on the front pew, she would start her "sniffing" ritual all over again.  Poor baby.  Hopefully, the little darling wasn't given caster oil when they got home!

       Now I am not sure if I would've been nearly as devoted as my uncle that night.  I am quite certain that there is much to be said about ridding oneself of smelly situations and rising to the occasion no matter what, but as for me, I've spent more than enough time on church pews to know that it's better to deal with smelly situations before they become a mess.  Airing "dirty laundry" in public is a "no no" in the southern book of etiquette!  Folks won't have a reason to "sniff" if we don't give them one! 

Editor's note:  On a serious note, I am most grateful for my heritage of faith and the devotion to God, family and community that my family has displayed and instilled in me over the years.  It is the very reason I do what I do!  Thank each of you for your shining example.